th arms of the chair, and looked up in a dazed
sort of way.

"I--" he began weakly.

"Louder--" interrupted Landers.

"I--beg your pardon," said the reluctant, trembling voice.

That instant the amphitheatre went wild. "Bravo!" yelled a hundred
voices over the clamor of cheering hands.

"Three cheers for the freshman!" shrilled a voice over the tumult; and
the "rah, rah, rah" that followed made the skylight rattle.

Landers stepped back and looked up bewildered; then a realization of
the thing came to him and his face burned as no sun could make it
burn, and his knees grew weak. He gladly would have given all his
present earthly belongings, and all in prospect for the immediate
future for a kindly earth to open suddenly and swallow him.
Perspiration stood out on his face as he went slowly up the stairs, at
every step a row of friendly hands grasping him in congratulation.

Slowly the room became quiet. The whole confusion had not taken up
even the time of grace at the beginning of the hour; and a great burst
of applause greeted the mild old dean as he came absently in, as was
his wont, at the tap of the ten-minute bell. He looked up innocently
at the unusual greeting, and the cheer was repeated with interest. As
first in authority he was supposed to report all such inter-class
offences; but in effect he invariably happened to be conveniently
absent at such times--the times of the freshman rebellion. He began
lecturing now without a word of comment, and on the instant the
peaceful scratching of fountain pens on notebooks replaced the clamors
of war.

The lecture was about half over when there was a tap on the entrance
door; and the white-haired dean, answering, stepped out into the hall.
In a second he returned carrying a thin, yellow envelope.

"A message for--," he studied the writing with near-sighted eyes,
"--for Guy Landers," he announced slowly.

The message went up the incline, hand over hand toward the top row,
and the boy who waited felt the room growing gradually close and dark.
To him a telegram could mean but one thing.

The class sat watching silently until they saw him take the paper from
his neighbor; then in kindness they turned away at the look on his
face. In the pit below the mild old dean began talking absently.

Landers tried to open the envelope, but his nervous hands rebelled. He
laid the broad side firmly against his knee and tore open the end
raggedly, drawing out the inclosed shee