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Young Children. No,  His Father Would Not Miss Him Much!

 

He Swung Off The Car In Front Of The University And Entered The

Dormitory At Last,  Too Engrossed In His Strange New Thoughts To Remember

That He Had Had No Supper.

 

"Hello,  Court! Where The Deuce Have You Been? We've Looked Everywhere

For You. You Didn't Come To The Dining-Hall! What's Wrong With You? Come

In Here!"

 

It Was Tennelly Who Hauled Him Into Bill Ward's Room And Thumped Him

Into A Big Leather Study-Chair.

 

"Why,  Man,  You're All In! Give An Account Of Yourself!" He Said,  Tossing

His Hat Over To Bill Ward,  And Pulling Away At His Mackinaw.

 

"P'raps He's In Love!" Suggested Pat From The Couch Where He Was Puffing

Away At His Pipe.

 

"P'raps He's Flunked His Greek Exam.," Suggested Bill Ward,  With A Grin.

 

"He Looks As If He'd Seen A Ghost!" Said Tennelly,  Eying Him Critically.

 

"Cut It Out,  Boys," Said Courtland,  With A Weary Smile. "I've Seen

Enough. Wittemore's Called Home. His Mother's Dying. I Went An Errand

For Him Down In Some Of His Slums And On The Way Back I Just Saw A

Little Kid Get Killed. Pretty Little Kid,  Too,  With Long Curls!"

 

"_Good Night Nurse!_" Said Pat From His Couch. "Say,  That Is Going

Some!"

 

"Ferget It!" Ejaculated Bill Ward,  Coming To His Feet. "Had Your Supper

Yet,  Court?"

 

Courtland Shook His Head.

 

"Well,  Just You Sit Still There While I Run Down To The Pie-Shop And See

What I Can Get."

 

Bill Seized His Cap And Mackinaw And Went Roaring Off Down The Hall.

Courtland's Eyes Were Closed. He Hadn't Felt So Tired Since He Left The

Hospital. His Mind Was Still Grappling With The Questions That His Last

Two Hours Had Flung At Him To Be Answered.

 

Pat Sat Up And Put Away His Pipe. He Made Silent Motions To Tennelly,

And The Two Picked Up The Unresisting Courtland And Laid Him On The

Couch. Pat's Face Was Unusually Sober As He Gently Put A Pillow Under

His Friend's Head. Courtland Opened His Eyes And Smiled.

 

"Thanks,  Old Man," He Said,  And Gripped His Hand Understandingly. There

Was Something In Pat's Face He Had Never Noticed There Before. As He

Dropped His Eyelids Shut He Had An Odd Sense That Pat And Tennelly And

The Presence Were All Taking Care Of Him. A Sick Fancy Of Worn-Out

Nerves,  Of Course,  But Pleasant All The Same.

 

Down The Hall A Nasal Voice Twanged At The Telephone,  Shouting Each

Answer As Though To Make The Whole Dormitory Hear. Then Loud Steps,  A

Thump On The Door As It Was Flung Open:

 

"Court Here? A Girl On The 'Phone Wants You,  Court. Says Her Name Is

Miss Gila Dare."

 

Chapter 6 Pg 37

The Messenger Had Imitated Gila Dare's Petulant Childish Accent To

Perfection. At Another Time The Three Young Men Would Have Shouted Over

It. Now They Looked At One Another In Silence.

 

"Sha'n't I Go And Get A Message For You,  Court?" Asked Tennelly. For

Courtland's Face Was Ashen Gray,  And The Memory Of It Lying In The

Hospital Was Too Recent For Him Not To Feel Anxious About His Friend. He

Had Only Been Permitted To Return To College So Quickly Under Strict

Orders Not To Overdo.

 

"No,  I Guess I'll Go," Said Courtland,  Indifferently,  Rising As He

Spoke.

 

They Listened Anxiously To His Tones As He Conversed Over The 'Phone.

 

"Hello!... Yes!... Yes!... Oh! Good Evening!... Yes.... Yes....

No-O-O--It Won't Be Possible!... No,  I've Just Come In And I'm Pretty

Well 'All In.' I Have A Lot Of Studying Yet To Do To-Night. This Is

Exam. Week,  You Know.... No,  I'm Afraid Not To-Morrow Night Either....

No,  There Wouldn't Be A Chance Till The End Of The Week,  Anyway.... Why,

Yes,  I Think I Could By That Time,  Perhaps--Friday Night? I'll Let You

Know.... Thank You. Good-By!"

 

The Listeners Looked From One To The Other Knowingly. This Was Not The

Tone Of One Who Had "Fallen" Very Far For A Girl. They Knew The Signs.

He Had Actually Been Indifferent! Gila Dare Had Not Conquered Him So

Easily As Bill Ward Had Thought She Would. And The Strange Thing About

It Was That There Was Something In The Atmosphere That Night That Made

Them Feel They Weren't So Very Sorry. Somehow Courtland Seemed Unusually

Close And Dear To Them Just Then. For The Moment They Seemed To Have

Perceived Something Fine And High In His Mood That Held Them In Awe.

Chapter 6 Pg 38

They Did Not "Kid" Him When He Came Back To Them,  As They Would

Ordinarily Have Done. They Received Him Gravely,  Talking Together About

The Examination On The Morrow,  As If They Had Scarcely Noticed His

Going.

 

Bill Ward Came Back Presently With His Arms Laden With Bundles. He

Looked Keenly At The Tired Face On The Couch,  But Whistled A Merry Tune

To Let On He Had Not Noticed Anything Amiss.

 

"Got A Great Spread This Time," He Declared,  Setting Forth His Spoils On

Two Chairs Alongside The Couch. "Hot Oyster Stew! Sit By,  Fellows! Cooky

Wrapped It Up In Newspapers To Keep It From Getting Cold. There's Bowls

And Spoons In The Basket. Nelly,  Get 'Em Out! Here,  Pat,  Take That

Bundle Out From Under My Arm. That's Celery And Crackers. Here's A Pail

Of Hot Coffee With Cream And Sugar All Mixed. Lookout,  Pat! That's

Jelly-Roll And Chocolate Eclairs! Don't Mash It,  You Chump! Why Didn't

You Come With Me?"

 

It Was Pleasant To Lie There In That Warm,  Comfortable Room With The

Familiar Sights All Around,  The Pennants,  The Pictures,  The Wild

Arrangements Of Photographs And Trophies,  And Hear The Fellows Talking

Of Homely Things; To Be Fed With Food That Made Him Begin To Feel Like

Himself Again; To Have Their Kindly Fellowship All About Him Like A

Protection.

 

They Were Grand Fellows,  Each One Of Them; Full Of Faults,  Too,  But True

At Heart. Life-Friends He Knew,  For There Was A Cord Binding Their Four

Hearts Together With A Little Tenderer Tie Than Bound Them To Any Of

The Other Fellows. They Had Been Together All The Four Years,  And If All

Went Well,  And Bill Ward Didn't Flunk Anything More,  They Would All Four

Go Out Into The World As Men Together At The End Of That Year.

 

He Lay Looking At Them Quietly As They Talked,  Telling Little Foolish

Jokes,  Laughing Immoderately,  Asking One Another Anxiously About A Tough

Question In The Exam. That Morning,  And What The Prospects Were For Good

Marks For Them All. It Was All So Familiar And Beloved! So Different

From Those Last Three Hours Amid Suffering And Sorrow! It Was All So

Natural And Happy,  As If There Were No Sorrow In The World. As If This

Life Would Never End! But He Hadn't Yet Got Over That Feeling Of The

Presence In The Room With Them,  Standing Somewhere Behind Pat And

Tennelly. He Liked To Feel The Consciousness Of It In The Back Of His

Mind. What Would The Fellows Say If He Should Try To Tell Them About It?

They Would Think He Was Crazy. He Had A Feeling That He Would Like To Be

The Means Of Making Them Understand.

 

He Told Them Gradually About Wittemore; Not As He Might Have Told Them

Directly After Seeing Him Off,  Nor Quite As He Had Expected To Tell

Them. It Was A Little More Full; It Gave Them A Little Kinder,  Keener

Insight Into A Character That They Had Hitherto Almost Entirely

Condemned And Ignored. They Did Not Laugh! It Was A Revelation To Them.

They Listened With Respect For The Student Who Had Gone To His Mother's

Dying Bed. They Had All Been Long Enough Away From Their Own Mothers To

Have Come To Feel The Worth Of A Mother Quite Touchingly. Moreover,  They

Chapter 6 Pg 39

Perceived That Courtland Had Seen More In Wittemore Than They Had Ever

Seen. He Had A Side,  It Appeared,  That Was Wholly Unselfish,  Almost

Heroic In A Way. They Had Never Suspected Him Of It Before. His Long,

Horse-Like Face,  With The Little Light China-Blue Eyes Always Anxious

And Startled,  Appeared To Their Imaginations With A New Appeal. When He

Returned They Would Be Kinder To Him.

 

"Poor Old Abner!" Said Tennelly,  Thoughtfully. "Who Would Have Thought

It! Carrying Medicine To An Old Bedridden Crone! And Was Going To Stick

To His Job Even When His Mother Was Dying! He's Got Some Stuff In Him,

After All,  If He Hasn't Much Sense!"

 

Courtland Was Led To Go On Talking About The Old Woman,  Picturing In A

Few Words The Room Where She Lay,  The Pitifully Few Comforts,  The Inch

Of Candle,  The Tea Without Sugar Or Milk,  The Butterless Toast! He Told

It Quite Simply,  Utterly Unaware,  That He Had Told How He Had Made The

Toast. They Listened Without Comment As To One Who Had Been Set Apart To

A Duty Undesirable But Greatly To Be Admired. They Listened As To One

Who Had Passed Through A Great Experience Like Being Shut Up In A Mine

For Days,  Or Passing Unharmed Through A Polar Expedition Or A Lonely

Desert Wandering.

 

Afterward He Spoke Again About The Child,  Telling Briefly How He Was

Killed. He Barely Mentioned The Sister,  And He Told Nothing Whatever Of

His Own Part In It All. They Looked At Him Curiously,  As If They Would

Read Between The Lines,  For They Saw He Was Deeply Stirred,  But They

Asked Nothing. Presently They All Fell To Studying,  Courtland With The

Rest,  For The Morrow's Work Was Important.

 

They Made Him Stay On The Couch And Swung The Light Around Where He

Could See. They Broke Into Song Or Jokes Now And Then As Was Their Wont,

But Over It All Was A Hush And A Quiet Sympathy That Each One Felt,  And

None More Deeply Than Courtland. There Had Never Been A Time During His

College Life When He Had Felt So Keenly And So Finely Bound To His

Companions As This Night; When He Went At Last To His Own Room Across

The Hall,  He Looked About On Its Comforts And Luxuries With A Kind Of

Wonder That He Had Been Selected For All This,  While That Poor Woman

Down In The Tenement Had To Live With Bare Walls And Not Even A Whole

Candle! His Pleasant Room Seemed So Satisfying! And There Was That Girl

Alone In Her Tiny Room With So Little About Her To Make Life Easy,  And

Her

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