students and the faculty stood in their places; then the president, followed by the faculty, passed out of the great doors. When the back of the last fac¬ ulty gown had disappeared, the under-classmen broke for the door, pushing each other aside, swear¬ ing when a toe was stepped on, yelling to each other, some of them joyously chanting the doxology. Hugh was caught in the rush and carried along with the mob, feeling ashamed and dis¬ tressed; this was no way to leave a church.
Once outside, however, he had no time to think of the chapel service; he had five minutes in which to get to his first class, and the building was across the campus, a good two minutes’ walk. He patted his cap to be sure that it was firmly on the back of his head, clutched his note-book, and ran as hard as he could go, the strolling upper-classmen, whom he passed at top speed, grinning after him in toler¬ ant amusement.
Hugh was the first one in the class-room and wondered in a moment of panic if he was in the right place. He sat down dubiously and looked at his watch. Four minutes left. He would wait two, and then if nobody came he would—he gasped; he couldn’t imagine what he would do. How could he find the right class-room? Maybe his class did n’t come at this hour at all. Suppose he and Carl had made a mistake. If they had, his whole schedule was probably wrong.
“Oh, golly,”
