And then at seven o'clock they left the library, walked to the Hotel Stafford, and a portal of Paradise slid back.
The banquet was held in one of the private dining rooms of the palatial Stafford. Several of the banqueters were gathered about the cloakroom as they checked their wraps. They were, for the most part, boisterous and robust types, ranging from new graduates only four or five years older than Harold to distinguished-looking, Van Dyke-bearded gaffers. They were smoking, chattering, slapping each other on the back in an exceedingly informal manner.
As Professor Gaines divested himself of his coat, a resounding whack landed upon his back and his head bobbed around to meet the smiling red face and booming voice and extended paw of a husky man of about the principal's own age.
"Well, well, if it isn't 'Plugger' Gaines himself!" boomed the voice. "Taking a night off from the school-teaching game, eh? Good work! We missed you at reunion last June, 'Plugger.' What was the matter? Married or something? No? Well, the affair certainly needed the high moral tone you might have given it. Yes, sir, some of these boys deserved a little talking to at that 'titanic tenth,' as the committee so aptly called it.
