e. They had been supplied by a neighbor on account of their
sombre color.

A heavy black tassel swung back and forth with the motion of the
uneven road just ahead of the horses' heads, and Landers sat watching
it idly. He even caught himself counting the vibrations, as though it
were a pendulum, dividing the beats into minutes. Very slow time it
was; but somehow it did not surprise him. It all conformed so
perfectly with the brown, quiet prairie, and the sun shining, slanting
and sleepy.

The swinging tassel grew indistinct, and the _patter_, _patter_,
_patter_ of the teams behind came as from a distance. He closed his
eyes, and the events of the past two days drifted through his mind.
Already they seemed indistinct, as a dream. He wondered dully that
they could be true and yet seem so foreign to his life, now. He even
began to doubt their verity, and opened his eyes slowly, half
expecting to see the cool, green campus, and the big college
buildings. The slanting sunlight met him full in the face, and the
black pendant swung monotonously, from side to side, as before. He
wearily closed his eyes again.

Only two days since he had heard the taunting "Dance, freshy!" of the
seniors, and felt the mighty rush of the freshman hosts; since the
"rah, rah, rah, Landers!" had shook the old amphitheatre and the
dozens of welcoming hands had greeted him; and then--the darkness--the
hesitating leave-taking of the building, and the lingering walk across
the deserted campus toward his room--the walk he knew so well he would
take no more. A brief time of waiting--a blank--and then the bitter,
thumping ride across two States toward his home, when he could only
think, and think, and try to adjust himself--and fail; and at last the
end. And again, at the little station, when he felt the touch of his
mother's hand, and heard her choking "Guy, my boy--" that spoke so
much of love and of trust; when he heard his own voice answering
cheerily, with a firmness which surprised him even then, speaking that
which all through the long ride he had known he must speak--but could
not: "It's all right, mother; don't worry; I'll not leave you
again!"--it all came back to him now, and he lived it over again and
again.

The big, black tassel danced tantalizingly in front of him. Yes, he
had said that he would never leave again. He dully repeated the words
now to himself: "never again." It was so fitting; quite in accordance
with the rest of the blac