he chimes which announced that the hour of two was come and gone.
The beautifully kept grounds, the stately buildings, the very leaves on
the huge elms that grew about the grounds were all impressive at the
time to the boys to whom the entire picture was new.

In the wide street that led directly through the midst of the college
buildings, were passing young men of their own age, some of whom would
suddenly stop and grasp with fervor the hands of some students just
returned from the long summer vacation. From the windows of the
dormitories could be seen the faces of students who were leaning far out
and shouting their words of greeting to friends on the street below. The
September sun was warm and mellow, and as it found its way through the
thick foliage it also cast fantastic shadows upon the grass that seemed
to dance and leap in the very contagion of the young life that abounded
on every side. The very air was almost electric and the high hills in
the distance that shut in the valley and provided a framework for the
handiwork of nature, lent an additional charm to which Will Phelps was
unconsciously responding.

"I tell you, Foster, this is great! I'm glad I'm here!" he exclaimed.

"Are you?" replied Foster in his more subdued manner. "Well, I'm glad
too."

The scene upon the platform of the station was as animated and inspiring
as that about the college grounds. Groups of students were here awaiting
the coming of friends, and yet their impatience was hidden by the
enthusiasm of the moment. One group, consisting of twenty or more young
men, particularly interested Will, for their noise and exuberance seemed
to know no bounds. At last a young man, evidently a student though
slightly older than the most in the group, approached them and said:
"Here, you sophs! You're making too much noise. Children should be seen,
not heard."

"All right, pop," responded one; and for a time the noise decreased. But
it was not long before it broke forth afresh and became even more
violent than before. Both Will and Foster were curiously watching the
group; they almost instinctively looked upon them as natural enemies and
yet were compelled to laugh at their antics.

"Here you, taxi-driver," suddenly called out one of the sophomores
advancing from the midst of his classmates and approaching one of the
cabs, a line of which were drawn up near the platform.

"Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Here you are! Here you are! This way!" responded a
ha