hilip winning a deeper hold
upon the affections of his older friend, and he marveled at the changes
taking place in Hamlen. For himself, he quietly forced him to meet such
of their classmates as were in Boston, preparing them by a brief outline
of Hamlen's experiences to extend a fitting welcome; but he left it to
Philip to show him what the new Harvard really is.

It was impossible to have all this happen without misgivings and
questioning on the part of his guest.

"I appreciate all this," Hamlen said to him one evening; "but don't for
a minute think that I take credit for the sudden interest on the part of
the fellows who never noticed me when I was in college. That belongs to
you. With the position you had then, and which you hold in the Class
to-day, the boys would drink healths and sing, 'For he's a jolly good
fellow' to a Fiji islander if he happened to be your friend."

"Suppose we grant all that," Huntington answered frankly; "what
difference does it make? Didn't you tell me that you owned a piece of
land in Oklahoma on which oil was struck?"

"Yes," Hamlen replied; surprised that his friend should so abruptly turn
the conversation. "What has that to do with our discussion?"

"How much did you value it before you discovered what it contained?"

"It was a joke; I begrudged even paying the taxes."

"Now you consider it well worth including among your investments?"

"Naturally. It is one of the best things I own."

Huntington smiled at him quietly. "Don't you see the application? It is
no reflection on those who walked over that land that they were ignorant
of the riches which lay beneath their feet. It is no reflection on the
sincerity of your classmates that they like you now and did not know you
before. I discovered what you really are, Hamlen, quite as accidentally
as you struck oil in that apparently worthless land in Oklahoma. Now I
stand simply as the promoter of a property which has proved its worth."

When Hamlen unpacked his trunk at Huntington's house he produced a
volume of Milton's "Areopagitica" which he placed in his friend's hand.

"This is the latest issue from the 'Island Press,'" he said. "It was
nearly completed before you all came down to Bermuda and disturbed my
peace of mind. I put the covers on after you left, but I haven't been
able to produce a thing since. I believe this is the last book I shall
ever make."

Huntington turned the leaves with great interest. "Exquisite!" he
e