. Ericson, if you will step down they will pass you into
Vanderbilt Courtyard--by the gate back of us--and you will be able to
escape."

Carl trusted himself to the bunch of boys forming behind him, and
found himself rushed into the comparative quiet of a Tudor courtyard.
A charming youngster, hatless and sleek of hair, cried, "Right this
way, Mr. Ericson--up this staircase in the tower--and we'll give 'em
the slip."

From the roar of voices to the dusky quietude of the hallway was a
joyous escape. Suddenly Carl was a youngster, permitted to see Yale, a
university so great that, from Plato College, it had seemed an
imperial myth. He stared at the list of room-occupants framed and hung
on the first floor. He peeped reverently through an open door at a
suite of rooms.

He was taken to a room with a large collection of pillows, fire-irons,
Morris chairs, sets of books in crushed levant, tobacco-jars and
pipes--a restless and boyish room, but a real haven. He stared out
upon the campus, and saw the crowd stolidly waiting for him. He
glanced round at his host and waved his hand deprecatingly, then tried
to seem really grown up, really like the famous Hawk Ericson. But he
wished that Forrest Haviland were there so that he might marvel: "Look
at 'em, will you! Waiting for _me!_ Can you beat it? Some start for my
Yale course!"

In a big chair, with a pipe supplied by the youngster, he shyly tried
to talk to a senior in the great world of Yale (he himself had not
been able to climb to seniorhood even in Plato), while the awed
youngster shyly tried to talk to the great aviator.

He had picked up a Yale catalogue and he vaguely ruffled its pages,
thinking of the difference between its range of courses and the petty
inflexible curriculum of Plato. Out of the pages leaped the name
"Frazer." He hastily turned back. There it was: "Henry Frazer, A.M.,
Ph.D., Assistant Professor in English Literature."

Carl rejoiced boyishly that, after his defeat at Plato, Professor
Frazer had won to victory. He forgot his own triumph. For a second he
longed to call on Frazer and pay his respects. "No," he growled to
himself, "I've been so busy hiking that I've forgotten what little
book-learnin' I ever had. I'd like to see him, but----By gum! I'm
going to begin studying again."

Hidden away in the youngster's bedroom for a nap, he dreamed
uncomfortably of Frazer and books. That did not keep him from making a
good altitude flight at the New