erce and burning that the boy was frightened.

CHAPTER 15.

TO COLLEGE IN THE BLUEGRASS

As the school-master had foretold, there was no room at college for
Jack. Several times Major Buford took the dog home with him, but Jack
would not stay. The next morning the dog would turn up at the door of
the dormitory where Chad and the school-master slept, and as a last
resort the boy had to send Jack home. So, one Sunday morning Chad led
Jack out of the town for several miles, and at the top of a high hill
pointed toward the mountains and sternly told him to go home. And Jack,
understanding that the boy was in earnest, trotted sadly away with a
placard around his neck:

I own this dog. His name is Jack. He is on his way to Kingdom Come.
Please feed him. Uncle Joel Turner will shoot any man who steels him.
CHAD.

It was no little consolation to Chad to think that the faithful
sheep-dog would in no small measure repay the Turners for all they had
done for him. But Jack was the closest link that bound him to the
mountains, and dropping out of sight behind the crest of the hill, Chad
crept to the top again and watched Jack until he trotted out of sight,
and the link was broken. Then Chad went slowly and sorrowfully back to
his room.

It was the smallest room in the dormitory that the school-master had
chosen for himself and Chad, and in it were one closet, one table, one
lamp, two chairs and one bed--no more. There were two windows in the
little room--one almost swept by the branches of a locust-tree and
overlooking the brown-gray sloping campus and the roofs and
church-steeples of the town--the other opening to the east on a sweep
of field and woodland over which the sun rose with a daily message from
the unseen mountains far beyond and toward which Chad had sent Jack
trotting home. It was a proud day for Chad when Caleb Hazel took him to
"matriculate"--leading him from one to another of the professors, who
awed the lad with their preternatural dignity, but it was a sad blow
when he was told that in everything but mathematics he must go to the
preparatory department until the second session of the term--the
"kitchen," as it was called by the students. He bore it bravely,
though, and the school-master took him down the shady streets to the
busy thoroughfare, where the official book-store was, and where Chad,
with pure ecstasy, caught his first new books under one arm and trudged
back, bending his head now and then to c