smoke, that he was a
sprinter and that the coaches said that cigarettes were bad for a
runner.

"Right-o," said Carl, respecting the reason thoroughly. "I can't run
worth a damn myself, but I'm not bad at tennis--not very good, either.
Say, if you're a runner you ought to make a fraternity easy. Got your
eye on one?"

"Well," said Hugh, "my father's a Nu Delt."

"The Nu Delts. Phew! High-hat as hell." He looked at Hugh enviously.
"Say, you certainly are set. Well, my old man never went to college, but
I want to tell you that he left us a whale of a lot of jack when he
passed out a couple of years ago."

"What!" Hugh exclaimed, staring at him in blank astonishment.

In an instant Carl was on his feet, his flashing eyes dimmed by tears.
"My old man was the best scout that ever lived--the best damned old
scout that ever lived." His sophistication was all gone; he was just a
small boy, heartily ashamed of himself and ready to cry. "I want you to
know that," he ended defiantly.

At once Hugh was all sympathy. "Sure, I know," he said softly. Then he
smiled and added, "So's mine."

Carl's face lost its lugubriousness in a broad grin. "I'm a fish," he
announced. "Let's hit the hay."

"You said it!"

CHAPTER II

Hugh wrote two letters before he went to bed, one to his mother and
father and the other to Helen Simpson. His letter to Helen was very
brief, merely a request for her photograph.

Then, his mind in a whirl of excitement, he went to bed and lay awake
dreaming, thinking of Carl, the college, and, most of all, of Helen and
his walk with her the day before.

He had called on her to say good-by. They had been "going together" for
a year, and she was generally considered his girl. She was a pretty
child with really beautiful brown hair, which she had foolishly bobbed,
lively blue eyes, and an absurdly tiny snub nose. She was little, with
quick, eager hands--a shallow creature who was proud to be seen with
Hugh because he had been captain of the high-school track team. But she
did wish that he wasn't so slow. Why, he had kissed her only once, and
that had been a silly peck on the cheek. Perhaps he was just shy, but
sometimes she was almost sure that he was "plain dumb."

They had walked silently along the country road to the woods that
skirted the town. An early frost had already touched the foliage with
scarlet and orange. They sat down on a fallen log, and Hugh gazed at a
radiant maple-tree.

Hel