the entrance to the Tate and looked at them suspiciously. Jack had been lurking there to nab the anti-Volsteadians. Recognizing Captain Trask, he stepped up to him.
"It's perfectly all right, Jack," Chester explained. "We're all sober as judges."
"I know you are," Jack grinned. "I just wanted to know if you happened to have any extra tickets to the Union State game."
"Sure," Chester replied with relief. "I'll send you two to-morrow."
"Thanks, Cap," said the policeman and returned to his post.
"My car is just around the corner," Joe Bartlett now offered in a greatly subdued voice. He felt himself largely responsible for Leonard's plight and was eager to pacify Chester.
They found Joe's car and piled into it. Harold sat beside Bartlett, who was at the wheel, and Chester and Leonard, conversing in low voices, took the rumble seat behind.
In ten minutes they were in the elaborate suite of rooms in Maury's Private Dorm occupied by Leonard, Bartlett and Don Haddon.
"I'm all right now, Chester," Leonard assured his brother shyly. "I realize what a fool I almost was. I'll see you in the morning." He held out his hand to his brother. "And—thanks. You're peach. Chester.
