ed by dissipation,
had at least the native good sense not to mar the occasion by any silly
attempt at words. They simply shook Walter's hand and went out. And when
the last one was gone, Walter turned the key in his door and went into
his bedroom adjoining, and flung himself down on the bed and cried.

I don't know that he could have given any real reason for his emotion.
But he was somewhat unstrung by the event. And a number of tumultuous
feelings were stirring deeply in him. He turned hot and cold at the
thought of his own possible cowardice. And then he felt a reaction of
shame in the thought that after this, Van Shaw and all his set would cut
him dead. He was ashamed to feel, even after all he had done, that he
still shrank from the possibility of social scorn, even from a set of
men who had no more moral standing than Van Shaw had.

But, on the whole, having stood by his rights as he had, and having the
pleasant consciousness of being true to his own principles, he was
disposed to feel a glow of commendation, and later in the evening as
Helen's splendid picture looked at him almost as if she was present,
Walter said to himself: "I'm glad I spoke out. I'm glad."

And then, because he had been brought up from a small boy to confide in
his mother, he found great relief for his feelings that same night in
writing to her. He mentioned no names, simply said that curiously soon
after his mother had written as she did about guarding his own room from
evil talk he had had an opportunity to do it. He did not dwell upon the
matter at all, and did not take any special credit to himself for his
action, but simply reminded his mother again of the difference in
standards and conduct. He expressed gratitude that some of the fellows
had at least silently stood by him. And he ended his letter by saying
that he was almost on the edge of discovery of the arc light, although
it still eluded him.

For the next two weeks Walter was completely absorbed in his studies.
Every spare hour he could get he pored and worked over his original
problem. There were points about it which perplexed and exasperated him.
Felix Bauer was as hard at work on the same problem as himself, and said
one evening with a good-natured laugh that he believed he had mastered
it. "All I lack is that one thing necessary what we call the
'Beduerfniss' the '_einege gewolite_,'" said Bauer, as he took off his
shop cap and thoughtfully ran a lead pencil back and forth