e sparkled from the end of a
pine bough.

It was a night of wonders for Willis. He had never felt the "call of the
wild" so strongly and irresistibly as on that night. Every mountain crag
seemed to be calling him, and in his fancy he thought the fir trees
reached their gently-waving branches, beckoning him to come into the
darkness and solitude. In spite of himself, his thoughts would wander to
the Michigan homeland. He wondered if the ice had broken on the lake yet,
and if the blossoms had begun to come in the old orchard, and if his
grandmother had filled the incubator. He felt queer with so many
strangers, yet not at all ill-at-ease, for he had lived a wholesome life
in the out-of-doors, and the meaning of fear was almost unknown to him.
As the fire was lighted and the wieners set to bake on the end of long,
green willow sticks, he began to enter more completely into the merriment
of the crowd.

It was an exceptional group of older fellows--the clean fun and wholesome
chat was above the ordinary, yet was spontaneous and real. The "Chief,"
whose name was Allen, stood at one side of the fire with a note-book in
his hand, while the fellows were seated upon a dead log that had been
dragged close to the fire. Allen was a young man of medium height,
well-built, and clean-cut. His hair was black and his eyes were dark and
very bright. A merry smile played over his features. Every fellow in the
group knew that that smile meant "good will toward men." His hiking
trousers bagged about the tops of his high mountain boots, and his
sweater bore the marks of many a camping trip. He always wore on such
occasions as this an old felt hat, which had the initials of many a
stanch, good, out-of-door companion printed on it. There was the color
and vigor of health in his face, and his movements were swift and
powerful. He was a splendid specimen of a clean, unselfish college man
who loved God, His out-of-doors, and all his fellow-men. There was not a
man in the community who had such an influence, or for whom the boys felt
such profound respect, as Allen. He was a "square deal" personified. Many
were the personal differences of the fellows that were submitted to him
free-willed for arbitration. His Department was his kingdom, and these
fellows his stanch and loyal supporters. Where he led they followed,
always knowing it was for some good purpose. Meanness, like a wolf in the
night, slunk away when he came upon it. Smut and slander knew