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CHAPTER XI
AFTER the Sanford-Raleigh game, the col¬ lege seemed to be slowly dying. The boys held over countless post-mortems the game, explaining to each other just how it had been lost or how it could have been won. They watched the newspapers eagerly as the sport writers an¬ nounced their choice for the so-called All American team. If Slade was on the team, the writer was conceded to “know his dope”; if Slade was n’t, the writer was a “dumbbell.” But all this pseudo¬ excitement was merely picking at the covers; there was no real heart in it. Gradually the football talk died down; freshmen ceased to write themes about Sanford’s great fighting spirit; sex and reli¬ gion once more became predominant at the “bull sessions.”

Studies, too, began to find a place in the sun. Hour examinations were coming, and most of the boys knew that they were miserably prepared. Lights were burning in fraternity houses and dormi¬ tories until late at night, and mighty little of their glow was shed on poker parties and crap games. The college had begun to study. Rh