t-case and held out his free hand.
"There's something I want to say to you, Hugh, but I guess I'll write
it. Please don't come to the train with me." He gripped Hugh's hand hard
for an instant and then was out of the door and down the hall before
Hugh had time to say anything.
Two days afterward the letter came. The customary "Dear brother" and
"Fraternally yours" were omitted.
Dear Hugh:
I've thought of letters yards long but I'm not going to
write them. I just want to say that you are the finest
thing that ever happened to me outside of my mother, and
I respect you more than any fellow I've ever known. I'm
ashamed because I started you drinking and I hope you'll
stop it. I feel toward you the way Harry Slade does,
only more I guess. You've done an awful lot for me.
I want to ask a favor of you. Please leave women alone.
Keep straight, please. You don't know how much I want
you to do that.
Thanks for all you've done for me.
CARL.
Hugh's eyes filled with tears when he read that letter. Carl seemed a
tragic figure to him, and he missed him dreadfully. Poor old Carl! What
hell it must have been to tell his mother! "And he wants me to keep
straight. By God, I will.... I'll try to, anyhow."
CHAPTER XVII
Hugh's depression was not continuous by any means. He was much too young
and too healthy not to find life an enjoyable experience most of the
time. Disillusionment followed disillusionment, each one painful and
dispiriting in itself, but they came at long enough intervals for him to
find a great deal of pleasure in between.
Also, for the first time since he had been transferred from Alling's
section in Latin, he was taking genuine interest in a course. Having
decided to major in English, he found that he was required to take a
composition course the second half of his sophomore year. His instructor
was Professor Henley, known as Jimmie Henley among the students, a man
in his middle thirties, spare, neat in his dress, sharp with his tongue,
apt to say what he thought in terms so plain that not even the stupidest
undergraduate could fail to understand him. His hazel-brown eyes were
capable of a friendly twinkle, but they had a way of darkening suddenly
and snapping that kept his students constantly on the alert. There was
little of the professor about him but a g
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