head as he entered the building read: Stage Entrance. Tate Auditorium. In the great assembly hall of the auditorium proper the vhole student body of Tate was gathering to be annoyed by the dean's opening address. It was the usual initial event signalizing the beginning of the college year and regarded as a nuisance by everybody, including the dean.
Harold, though he did not realize it, was now in the dusty region behind the curtain that separated the auditorium stage from the audience outside. The building was frequently used for theatricals. When the pièce de résistance was merely oratory, the curtain was kept lowered and only the front part of the stage used. The last show given in the Tate auditorium had been an Ibsen tragedy by the "Tate Players" and the place had not been touched back stage since. Harold found himself in what resembled a sparsely furnished room. There was a tall pedestal and two chairs. A snowy landscape painting hung lopsided on the wall. Dust covered everything. He looked around him and found to his dismay that he was alone.
Suddenly Harold heard a thin whine. It came from the conglomeration of ropes and pulleys running along the top of the curtain. Frightened for an instant, he listened. To his relief he decided that it must be a kitten.
