and paid the entrance fee for
his freshman year. And further, by chance, it happened that the two
young men had first met at the gateway to the campus, one coming
from the East and the other from the West, and having exchanged the
courtesies of stranger greeting, they had walked, side by side, up the
long avenue to the foot of the slope. Together, they had climbed the
broad flight of steps leading up to the imposing doorway of Sunrise,
with the great letter S carved in stone relief above it; and, after
pausing a moment to take in the matchless wonder of the landscape over
which old Sunrise keeps watch, the college portal had swung open, and
the two had entered at the same time.

Inside the doorway the Professor and the country boy were impressed,
though in differing degrees, with the massive beauty of the rotunda over
which the stained glass of the dome hangs a halo of mellow radiance.
Involuntarily they lifted their eyes toward this crown of light and
saw far above them, wrought in dainty coloring, the design of the great
State Seal of Kansas, with its inscription They saw something more in
that upward glance. On the stairway of the rotunda, Elinor Wream,
the niece of the president of Sunrise College, was leaning over the
balustrade, looking at them with curious eyes. Her smile of recognition
as she caught sight of Professor Burgess, gave place to an expression of
half-concealed ridicule, as she glanced down at Vic Burleigh, the big,
heavy-boned young fellow, so grotesquely impossible to the harmony of
the place.

As the two men dropped their eyes, they encountered the upturned face
of a plainly dressed girl coming up the stairs from the basement, with a
big feather duster in her hand. It was old Bond Saxon's daughter Dennie,
who was earning her tuition by keeping the library and offices in
order. As if to even matters, it was Vic Burleigh who caught a token of
recognition now, while the young Professor was surveyed with fearless
disapproval.

All this took only a moment of time. Long afterward these two men knew
that in that moment an antagonism was born between them that must fight
itself out through the length of days. But now, Dr. Lloyd Fenneben, Dean
of Sunrise, known to students and alumni alike as "Dean Funnybone," was
grasping each man's hand with a cordial grip and measuring each with a
keen glance from piercing black eyes, as he bade them equal welcome.

And here all likeness of conditions ends for these