u
are the only man in college but myself who has taken the pains to get
inside the poor beggar's shell."

"Hm. Well?" Opdyke's eyes were on the smoke in front of him; but, to
the older man, it was plain that he was listening intently.

"Now you've got to go to work to get him out of his shell, so that
people can see what he is like and, more than that, so that he can find
out what people really are. He has no more knowledge of humanity than a
six-months puppy; in fact, he hasn't so much. And--he's--got--to--learn."
The words came weightily.

"What's the good?" Opdyke asked lazily.

The reply was unexpected, even to him who knew Professor Mansfield's
downright ways.

"To teach him what an ass he really is. Till he finds that out--till
you all find it out about yourselves, there's not much hope for any of
you."

Opdyke flushed.

"Thanks," he said a little shortly.

Bending across the table, the old professor laid a friendly hand upon
his arm.

"Don't be huffy, Reed. A few of you take in the knowledge with your
mother's milk. That's what saves society, by marking it off into
separate classes, what makes the difference between your father's son,
and the strenuous scion of fifty ministerial Wheelers. But, because
you've already got it, you owe all the more to the poor chaps who
haven't."

"Yes, sir." Opdyke's reply came with dutiful promptness, although it
was plain to the professor that he had flown quite beyond the limits of
the young mind before him. "What do you want me to do with him,
though?"

The professor's eyes twinkled, as he dragged himself back to the
practical aspects of the case.

"Coax him out of his shell. If he won't come, then haul him out by the
ears. Have him in your room and have some other men in there to meet
him. Take him about with you. Take him to Mory's, on a thick night
there. Show him life, the way you know it. If you must, show him an
occasional siren. I can say this to you, Reed, because I have taken
pains to find out that your sirens are pretty decent ones, cleaner than
most of them. To sum it up, let Scott Brenton see life as you are
living it, not as he imagines it from the point of view of the man who
never can do anything but sit back in a corner and look on."

Opdyke filled his pipe anew, puffed at it silently, then spoke.

"Beastly tantalizing thing to do," he said. "What in thunder is the
use?"

The professor spoke with sudden fervour.

"Much!" he said. "At least