h the swing of time, the white man
cut a road down the steep bluff at the sharpest bend and made a ford
in the shallow place between the whirlpool and the old Corral, and the
Nature-built stockade became a peaceful spot, specially ordained by
Providence, the Sunrise Freshmen claimed, as a picnic ground for their
autumn holiday. At least the young folk for whom Professor Burgess was
acting as chaperon took it so, and reveled in the right.

Interest in Greek had greatly increased in Sunrise with the advent of
the handsome young Harvard man, and his desired seclusion for profound
research had not yet been fully realized. Types for study were
plentiful, however, especially the type of the presumptuous young fellow
who dared to admire Elinor Wream. By divine right she was the most
popular girl in Sunrise, which pleased Professor Burgess up to a certain
point. That point was Victor Burleigh. The silent antagonism between
these two daily grew stronger; why, neither one could have told up to
this holiday.

The day had been perfect--the weather, the dinner, the company, the
woodland--even the amber light in the sky softening the glow as the
afternoon slipped down toward twilight in the sheltered old Corral.

"Come, Vic Burleigh, help me to start this fire for supper," Dennie
Saxon called. "We won't get our coffee and ham and eggs ready before
midnight."

"Here, Trench, or some of you fellows, get busy," Vic called back to the
big right guard of the Sunrise football squad. "Elinor and I are going
to climb the west bluff to see what's the matter with the sun. It looks
sick. I've been hired man all day; carried nineteen girls across the
shallows, packed all the lunch-baskets, toted all the wood, built all
the fires, washed all the dishes--"

"Ate all the dinner, drank all the grape juice, stepped on all the
custard pies, upset all the cream bottles. Oh, you piker, get out!"
Trench aimed an empty lunch-basket at Vic's head with the words.

Being a chaperon was a pleasant office to Professor Burgess today but
for the task of throwing a barrier about Elinor every time Vic Burleigh
came near. And Burleigh, lacking many other things more than insight,
kept him busy at barrier building.

"Miss Wream, you can't think of climbing that rough place," Burgess
protested, with a sharp glance of resentment at the big young fellow who
dared to call her Elinor.

The tiger-light blazed in the eyes that flashed back at him, as Vic
cried da