They went over to him as if he had been a child who had been lost and was found on some perilous height and needing to be coaxed gently away from it.

“Oh, so you’re here, Court,” said Tennelly, slapping his shoulder with gentle roughness, “Great little old room, isn’t it?  The fellows’ idea to keep flowers here.  Kind of a continual memorial.”

“Great fellow, that Steve!” said Pat, hoarsely.  He could not yet speak lightly of the hero-martyr whom he had helped to send to his fiery grave.

But Courtland stood calmly, almost as if he had not heard them.  “Pat, Nelly,” he said, turning from one to the other gravely, “I want to tell you fellows that I have met Steve’s Christ and after this I stand for Him!”

They looked at him curiously, pityingly.  They spoke with soothing words and humored him.  They led him away to his room and left him to rest.  Then they walked with solemn faces and dejected air into Bill Ward’s room and threw themselves down upon his couch.

“Where’s Court?” Bill looked up from the theme he was writing.

“We found him in Steve’s room,” said Tennelly, gloomily, and shook his head.

“It’s a deuced shame!” burst forth Pat. (He had cut out swearing for a time.) “He’s batty in the bean!”

Tennelly answered the shocked question in the eyes of Bill with a nod.  “Yes, the brightest fellow in the class, but he sure is batty in the bean!  You ought to have heard him talk.  Say!  I don’t believe it was all the fire.  Court’s been studying too hard.  He’s been an awful shark for a fellow that went in for athletics and everything else.  He’s studied too hard and it’s gone to his head!”

Tennelly sat gloomily staring across the room.  It was the old cry of the man who cannot understand.

“He needs a little change,” said Bill, putting his feet up on the table comfortably and lighting a cigarette.  “Pity the frat. dance is over.  He needs to get him a girl.  Be a great stunt if he’d fall for some jolly girl.  Say!  I’ll tell you what.  I’ll get Gila after him.”

“Who’s Gila?” asked Tennelly, gloomily.  “He won’t notice her any more than a fly on the wall.  You know how he is about girls.”

“Gila’s my cousin.  Gila Dare.  She’s a good sport, and she’s a winner every time.  We’ll put Gila on the job.  I’ve got a date with her to-morrow night and I’ll put her wise.  She’ll just enjoy that kind of thing.  He’s met her, too, over at the Navy game.  Leave it to Gila.”

“What style is she?” asked Tennelly, still skeptical.

“Oh, tiny and stylish and striking, with big eyes.  A perfect little peach of an actress.”

“Court’s too keen for acting.  He’ll see through her in half a second.  She can’t put one over on Court.”

“She won’t try,” said the ardent cousin.  “She’ll just be as innocent.  They’ll be chums in half an hour, or it’ll be the first failure for Gila.”

“Well, if any girl can put one over on Court, I’ll eat my hat; but it’s worth trying, for if Court keeps on like this we’ll all be buying prayer-books and singing psalms before another semester.”