h
and had no family. So he left a number of bequests to the college on
ordinary conditions. I suppose he thought he might humour his whim in
one. His widow is a dear old soul, and always makes a special pet of
the boy who wins the Fraser. Well, here's my street. So long,
Campbell."

Elliott responded almost curtly and walked onward to his
boarding-house with a face from which all the light had gone. When he
reached his room he took down the Marwood calendar and whirled over
the leaves until he came to the announcement of bursaries and
scholarships. The Fraser announcement, as far as he had read it, ended
at the foot of the page. He turned the leaf and, sure enough, at the
top of the next page, in a paragraph by itself, was the condition:
"Preference shall be given to candidates of the name Fraser, Campbell
or McLean, provided that said competitor makes at least seventy per
cent in his examination."

Elliott flung himself into a chair by his table and bowed his head on
his hands. He had no right to the Fraser Scholarship. His name was
not Campbell, although perhaps nobody in the world knew it save
himself, and he remembered it only by an effort of memory.

He had been born in a rough mining camp in British Columbia, and when
he was a month old his father, John Hanselpakker, had been killed in a
mine explosion, leaving his wife and child quite penniless and almost
friendless. One of the miners, an honest, kindly Scotchman named
Alexander Campbell, had befriended Mrs. Hanselpakker and her little
son in many ways, and two years later she had married him. They
returned to their native province of Nova Scotia and settled in a
small country village. Here Elliott had grown up, bearing the name of
the man who was a kind and loving father to him, and whom he loved as
a father. His mother had died when he was ten years old and his
stepfather when he was fifteen. On his deathbed he asked Elliott to
retain his name.

"I've cared for you and loved you since the time you were born, lad,"
he said. "You seem like my own son, and I've a fancy to leave you my
name. It's all I can leave you, for I'm a poor man, but it's an honest
name, lad, and I've kept it free from stain. See that you do likewise,
and you'll have your mother's blessing and mine."

Elliott fought a hard battle that spring evening.

"Hold your tongue and keep the Fraser," whispered the tempter.
"Campbell _is_ your name. You've borne it all your life. And the
condi