man that comes here who has such a grip on the students
as he has. One of the best things you have to look forward to is the
treat you will have every year of hearing him. There isn't a spark of
'cant' or 'gush' about him, but what he says goes straight home. I don't
think I'll ever forget some of the things he has said to us while I've
been in college."

Accepting Will's cordial invitation, Wagner went with him to his room
and remained there for an hour, and for the most of the time their
conversation was of the man and the message they had that morning heard.

"I'll never forget one thing he said," remarked Wagner thoughtfully.

"What was that?" inquired Will, deeply interested at once.

"He was talking once about the reason why women were supposed to be so
much more religious than men, and he said he didn't believe they were."

"There are more in the churches, anyway," suggested Will.

"Yes, that's what he said; but he said too, that the reason for it was
because one side of the life of Christ had been emphasized at the
expense of the other. He said so much had been made of his gentleness
and meekness and the kindly virtues, which were the feminine side of his
nature and appealed most to women, that he was afraid sometimes the
other the stronger side and the one that appealed most to men had been
lost. And then, he went on to speak of the Lion of the tribe of Judah,
and he pictured the temptation and the power of decision and the heroic
endurance and strength, and all that. I never heard anything like it in
all my life. It made me feel as I do when the team is in for a meet.
I'll never forget it! Never!"

"I wish I'd heard it."

"You'll have three more chances, anyway."

"Maybe more than that if I don't pass in all my work," laughed Will.

"Having any trouble?"

"A little with my Greek, but I've passed off my condition now."

"I think you're all right then, though Splinter is a hard proposition.
Just imagine him talking like this man this morning."

Will laughed, and then becoming serious, he said, "Wagner, I've a
classmate who is bothering me."

"Who is it?"

"Schenck. Peter John everybody calls him."

"What's he doing? What's the trouble with him?"

"Well, to be honest, he's drinking hard."

"Wasn't he one of the fellows who was down, with the typhoid when I had
it?"

"Yes."

"An awkward, ungainly, redheaded fellow?"

"That's the one."

"What have you been doing for him?"

"Everything