-a thousand thoughts intruded themselves. Already Helen
seemed far away, a little nebulous. He wondered why....

CHAPTER III

For the next few days Carl and Hugh did little but wait in line. They
lined up to register; they lined up to pay tuition; they lined up to
shake hands with President Culver; they lined up to talk for two quite
useless minutes with the freshman dean; they lined up to be assigned
seats in the commons. Carl suggested that he and Hugh line up in the
study before going to bed so that they would keep in practice. Then they
had to attend lectures given by various members of the faculty about
college customs, college manners, college honor, college everything.
After the sixth of them, Hugh, thoroughly weary and utterly confused,
asked Carl if he now had any idea of what college was.

"Yes," replied Carl; "it's a young ladies' school for very nice boys."

"Well," Hugh said desperately, "if I have to listen to about two more
awfully noble lectures, I'm going to get drunk. I have a hunch that
college isn't anything like what these old birds say it is. I hope not,
anyway."

"Course it isn't. Say, why wait for two more of the damn things to kill
you off?" He pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and held it out
invitingly.

Hugh laughed. "You told me yourself that that stuff was catgut and that
you wouldn't drink it on a bet. Besides, you know that I don't drink. If
I'm going to make my letter, I've got to keep in trim."

"Right you are. Wish I knew what to do with this poison. If I leave it
around here, the biddy'll get hold of it, and then God help us. I'll
tell you what: after it gets dark to-night we'll take it down and poison
the waters of dear old Indian Lake."

"All right. Say, I've got to pike along; I've got a date with my faculty
adviser. Hope I don't have to stand in line."

He didn't have to stand in line--he was permitted to sit--but he did
have to wait an hour and a half. Finally a student came out of the inner
office, and a gruff voice from within called, "Next!"

"Just like a barber shop," flashed across Hugh's mind as he entered the
tiny office.

An old-young man was sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He glanced
up as Hugh came in and motioned him to a chair beside him. Hugh sat down
and stared at his feet.

"Um, let's see. Your name's--what?"

"Carver, sir. Hugh Carver."

The adviser, Professor Kane, glanced at some notes. "Oh, yes, from
Merrytown High School,