his head was back at the eyepiece again, while his right hand, which had never stopped writing, continued to take notes.
We intruded, with equal ease and equally unchallenged, into a lecture-room, where forty or fifty students were gathered round a demonstrator at a blackboard; into two more laboratories, one empty and the other containing two absorbed men and a dead rabbit, and finally into yet a fourth laboratory, where a dozen or so students were laughing and talking and seemed to be waiting for somebody.
One of these, having nothing particular to do, came forward and asked if we wanted anybody in particular. Munting replied that he was looking for Mr. Leader.
“Leader?” said the student. “Let me see. He’s a second-year man, isn’t he? Where’s Leader, anybody know?”
A young man in spectacles said he fancied Leader was in Room 27.
“Oh, yes, to be sure. Try 27—along the corridor on the right, up the steps and the second door on the left. If he’s not there, I expect they’ll be able to tell you. Not at all, pleasure.”
We found our way to Room 27, and there, among a group of students, found