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 *past. I sort of wish they'd put that electric light out on the corner. If Mr. Grayson happened to go by and saw us unloading stuff"

"He's not likely to, I guess. He lives at the other end of town. Hello, Jim. Oh, we're just communing with Nature. It sure was some meeting. Good night!"

The last of the audience left the building and presently quiet fell, broken finally by the sound of the janitor's steps on the stairs.

"That you, Owen?" called Morris. "The load's coming in about fifteen minutes. We'd better unpack the things inside, hadn't we? Can you leave a light here at the doorway?"

"Yes," was the reply. "I'll leave this one goin' and the one around the corner." The janitor, a sturdy young Irishman, came to the door and peered out. "Who's that with you, Mr. Brent?" he asked.

"Gordon Merrick. My sister and Miss Sawin are coming in a few minutes. I guess it will take all of us to move the desk in, eh?"

"A couple of us can manage it, sir. I've got my broom and dustpan here to clear up afterwards. There's some one coming now, ain't there?"