Not Included 
 in a Sheepskin 
 
 Stanford Stories
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 in a Sheepskin 
 
 Stanford Stories
 
 Mot "3ttclu6e6 in a 
 
 Stanforfc Stories 
 
 Published by 
 
 Stanford University 
 California
 
 COPYRIGHT 1907 
 By LAURA WELLS 
 
 Printed by 
 
 Co. 
 San Francisco
 
 This book does not aspire to portray 
 Stanford life in its entirety, nor does it 
 seek to justify many phases of under 
 graduate activity. It defends itself only 
 in the light of a personal interpretation 
 of several years connection with things 
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN.
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Three R s l 
 
 A Girl and a Nudibranc 25 
 
 Prepdom on Parade 47 
 
 The Arrogance of the Second Year . . . 81 
 Miss Johnston and the Seminar System . .109 
 
 Dedicate to Plato 131 
 
 The Rulers of the Realm 163 
 
 Earthquake Emergency 201 
 
 Senior Finalities 225
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 "My Freshman maid, you want your hours? 
 Then don t forget the triple R s." 
 
 "Honored sir," she answered, blushing, 
 "Mean you Roble, Row, and Rushing?" 
 
 It was near the end of that period of frantic enter 
 tainment, known as "rushing season," when Fresh 
 men are recruited for the ranks of the sororities. 
 It is a time that wears thin the nerves and tempers 
 of those involved, and draws down upon their heads 
 the professorial wrath for slipshod work. 
 
 Three girls turned from the driveway of the 
 Lambda Eta house, walking briskly in the cool air 
 of the autumn evening, which struck them in pleas 
 ant contrast to the hot-house closeness of the formal 
 dinner they had just attended. The door which 
 closed behind them shut off from their path a glow 
 of yellow light, and with it cut short the laughing 
 farewells of the Lambda Etas. It was a cordial 
 chorus, and should have warmed the hearts of the 
 Freshmen who were in the process of becoming ac 
 climated to the rare atmosphere of undergraduatism, 
 and who still thought of home with regret. 
 
 Such an effect did not appear, however, in the 
 wearied tone of resignation with which Elizabeth 
 
 r
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 addressed Margaret Sears. "Peter, did you ever hear 
 of sororities, did you ever hear of rushing before you 
 came to college ? " 
 
 The other stopped short and heaved an exagger 
 ated sigh, but did not volunteer the obvious answer. 
 They walked on indifferent to the life of the Row. 
 At an upper window of one of the houses a student, 
 with hand above eyes, bent over his books, and 
 below, presenting a picture to the passer-by, the 
 more self-indulgent stooped intent over billiards, or 
 stamped back and forth, cue in hand. From another 
 house came the noise of a rushing party, and there 
 was a cheerful tinkling of mandolins and the sound 
 of singing in the distance. 
 
 Elizabeth called a halt on the rapid progress of 
 the three as they neared the post-office. 
 
 "We needn t hurry so, now that we are really out 
 of their clutches. Dick and the rest aren t going to 
 meet us until half-past eight, you know." 
 
 Marion, whose tall, athletic figure loomed up the 
 largest of the trio, asserted her relief joyfully. 
 "Isn t it glorious to get away for a whole evening 1 ? 
 I know I m going to enjoy it, even though I don t 
 know one of the men, thanks to the Pan-Hellenic 
 regulations. How did you ever break the date with 
 the Beta Sigmas, Elizabeth?" 
 
 [2]
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 "Oh, the Beta Sigmas were fine about it. I really 
 believe they were glad to let us have a good time, 
 so long as they knew we weren t going to any other 
 house. Dick was a peach to ask us." Elizabeth 
 shook the shoulders of the small girl beside her. 
 "Say something, Peter. Aren t you glad to escape 
 from the electric glare for a while 1 ? And just think, 
 you re going to see Shorty Oliver at last." 
 
 Margaret s voice was not enthusiastic. "I sup 
 pose I might as well meet him and have it over with, 
 since you re so determined I shall, but I wish I could 
 go home. I m tired of dinners and dances and 
 luncheons, and I hate to be under such obligation to 
 people. Everybody s too horribly good to us we 
 couldn t ever begin to return it." 
 
 "Might give them a tea in our one room at Roble, 
 minus the curtains and pictures we haven t had time 
 to put up," suggested Marion, sarcastically. She 
 took Margaret s elbow, almost lifting her off her 
 feet through sheer discrepancy in height. 
 
 "Ordinary ideas of social obligation don t hold 
 here," Elizabeth explained, airily. "Dick told me 
 so. It s a purely business proposition. Most of 
 their friendliness is mere policy." 
 
 Marion objected. "I m sure that some of the 
 girls are genuinely fond of us, now " 
 
 [3]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "I know it," said Peter. "There s one girl whom 
 I m going to love as long as I live, and we ve planned 
 all sorts of things to do together." 
 
 "Can t you see," Elizabeth took pride in her 
 superior knowledge, "the Lambda Etas have sized 
 us all up. Peter gets the motherly Seniors in the 
 house, who pet her and appreciate her originality. 
 Marion has a dose of the serious-minded and the 
 erudite, much they know of her, while I am showered 
 with flippancy and gossip." 
 
 Peter ignored the argument, and said with de 
 cision: "Well, anyway, it s a beastly shame to go 
 so much to the Lambda Eta house when we ve all 
 decided " 
 
 "Hush," Marion looked around suspiciously, as 
 if she half expected to see tale-bearers in the shadow 
 of the arcades, for they had reached the deserted, 
 echoing pavement of the Quad. Presently they 
 turned the corner of the History building, and noted 
 three figures that loomed up in the light from the 
 library windows. 
 
 "There s Dick," exclaimed Elizabeth. "Dick, 
 that s been mine for a whole year." 
 
 "Wonderful! fickle one," teased Marion, "the 
 other two I surmise are prospective. Now, I lay 
 claim right here on oath Peter, how s this, beneath 
 
 [4]
 
 <THE THREE R S 
 
 the wings of the flitting bats and the shadows of 
 these arches to Mr. Warrington. He at least cor 
 responds to my ideal in height besides I like him." 
 
 "Any one but Dick," Elizabeth murmured, hap 
 pily. 
 
 Introductions at college are formalities that open 
 up at once possibilities of a delightful camaraderie 
 one of the charms of university life. Dick repre 
 sented football and society. Shorty Oliver was 
 good-naturedness personified, and Max Warrington, 
 whom many liked and some feared, was a newspaper 
 man through and through. He talked to Marion 
 during the moonlight walk down the palm-lined 
 avenue, and by the time they had reached the griffin- 
 guarded entrance gates in sight of the lights of Palo 
 Alto, had gained her distinct approval. They were 
 headed for Wilson s, the rendezvous of all moon 
 light strollers, holding forth as it does the allurement 
 of ice-cream and confectionery. 
 
 They were no sooner laughingly seated around 
 one of the small tables than they discovered a group 
 of Beta Sigmas ensconced in an alcove opposite 
 them. They bowed to the Freshmen with exagger 
 ated friendliness and became almost hilarious over 
 some joke of their own. 
 
 [5]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Peter took the opportunity to whisper to Eliza 
 beth, "No wonder they didn t care about the date 
 queening, too ! " 
 
 Dick was making high signs to the group across 
 the way, and Elizabeth had the uncomfortable feel 
 ing of being in the dark about something. 
 
 "Seems sort of lively over there," Shorty Oliver 
 bridged an awkward silence and indicated the Beta 
 Sigmas with a lift of his chin. Then the voice of 
 the waitress rasped out, "One En Spesh, one Thet 
 Phi, one chock " 
 
 The talk drifted to the summer vacation which 
 was still near enough in their recollections to possess 
 the attraction of vanished pleasures. Dick narrated 
 the experiences of himself and three others who had 
 worked for the months of June and July in a North 
 ern California lumber camp, not that he was hard up 
 for cash, but just to show the old man that he could 
 do something. 
 
 Shorty s summer had centered around a gold mine. 
 
 "My Lord! the blisters on my hands from hack 
 ing brush," he said. 
 
 This was a novelty for the Freshmen. There was 
 a halo of romanticism about college men in dis 
 guise one might find them turning up in such queer 
 places. Then, too, they were interested to discover 
 
 [6]
 
 THREE R>S 
 
 that Warrington was partially supporting himself 
 through college as correspondent for one of the city 
 papers. There was something so democratic about 
 this abolition of caste and the placing of genius and 
 personality in the front rank. 
 
 Peter s wild heart yearned to "notch a tree" as 
 described by Dick, and, her interest aroused, she so 
 forgot her shyness that Marion and Elizabeth looked 
 at her incredulously Peter, the avowed scorner of 
 men! 
 
 Half up the avenue, on their way back to the 
 Campus, the smaller girl, watching the effect of the 
 eucalyptus trees against the sky, was startled by 
 Shorty Oliver s remark. 
 
 "Honestly, Miss Sears, but you re a wise one! " 
 
 "How do you make that out*? " 
 
 "Just so ! " he said with a gesture. "For twenty 
 minutes I have been talking of, around, about, sorori 
 ties. I have rung the door bell, turned the knob, and 
 tried the windows. I have almost worked myself 
 into a fever it s a pretty heavy strain on a Sopho 
 more mind." 
 
 "And you have found? " Peter s tone was almost 
 sarcastic. 
 
 "A good deal," said Oliver with his inevitable 
 chuckle. "Yes, the sorority girls are charming, the 
 
 [7]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Beta Sigmas have a pretty house and so have the 
 Lambda Etas and the Theta Gamma Alphas. Alice 
 Hibbard is a most interesting girl, likewise Edith 
 Homer. Honestly, Miss Sears, you re as tight as a 
 cracker box." 
 
 "I suppose it was very impertinent of me not to 
 out with the whole thing." 
 
 "It was for a Freshman you are much too wise, 
 Miss Sears." 
 
 "And what would your Sophomoreship like to 
 know? " queried Peter. 
 
 Shorty came to the point: "I want to know if you 
 are giving the keenest crowd in college a fair show." 
 
 "And which crowd can that be? " Peter asked 
 seriously. 
 
 "Beta Sigma, of course." 
 
 Peter was relieved. She thought of the agreement 
 and was glad their choice had been approved. 
 
 "We re all rooting for them," Shorty continued. 
 "Warrington and Dick, too." 
 
 Peter was still more glad. "That will be a very 
 weighty consideration in their favor," she laughed. 
 
 Just then Oliver pulled her aside in time to escape 
 a bicycle whose whistle they had not heard, and 
 barely dodged a second one himself. "They think 
 
 [8]
 
 ?HE cfHREE R S 
 
 nothing of clipping off an ear," he remarked flip 
 pantly. 
 
 Not having heard the bicycle, they had likewise 
 been unaware of footsteps coming behind them. 
 Suddenly they were stopped with the words, "My, 
 but you people walk slowly for us to have caught 
 up ! " It was one of the Beta Sigmas trying her best 
 to cover her breathlessness by animation. 
 
 "Better call yourselves sprinters," observed the 
 irrepressible Oliver. 
 
 The girl turned her back on him. "Elizabeth, 
 may I introduce Mr. Trent." The rest of the soror 
 ity girls joined them and the crowd loitered along 
 the homeward way, exuberant with fun and good 
 spirits, for every one seemed bent on giving the 
 Freshmen the time of their lives. 
 
 Elizabeth alone did not join in with them, for 
 she would not be separated from Dick, and the two 
 walked on ahead into the darkness. "It s the best 
 evening I ve had since college began," the girl was 
 saying. "It s such a relief to see a man again. 
 Bunches of fifteen or twenty girls thrown at your 
 head day in and day out become mighty wearisome." 
 
 Dick seemed seriously inclined. "I m glad you re 
 enjoying it for two reasons," he said. "First, be 
 cause I haven t caught a glimpse of you since you 
 
 [9]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 came and, secondly, because I want you to like the 
 Beta Sigmas." 
 
 "Why, Dick, I thought you didn t care." 
 
 The man hesitated. "Well, I didn t but when 
 you come down to a choice there s only one crowd 
 they re friends of mine and I promised I d say 
 something to you." 
 
 Elizabeth considered. "I thought you men 
 weren t supposed to have anything to do with it." 
 
 "We aren t," said Dick. "It s rather a breach of 
 Pan-Hellenic to say anything." 
 
 "Oh! " said Elizabeth, "and their walking home 
 with us that s rushing with men, too, I suppose 4 ? " 
 
 "Well," said Dick, "no one will know about it; 
 all s fair in love and war, and there are only two 
 days left " 
 
 "So it was all arranged." 
 
 "Of course," Dick laughed, "you re strangely una 
 ware of the subtleties of rushing, Elizabeth. It was 
 a clever stunt." 
 
 Elizabeth was silent. 
 
 When they came to the Quad she insisted that she 
 must go straight to Roble, and Marion and Peter, 
 yielding to her determination, reluctantly refused 
 the urgent invitation of the Beta Sigmas to "come up 
 for something in the chafing dish." 
 
 [10]
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 In her room, the door locked against intrusion, 
 Elizabeth faced the other two with indignation in 
 her eyes. 
 
 "What s the matter*? " they asked. 
 
 Elizabeth became ironical. "You ve had a good 
 time, haven t you the best time in these two weeks 
 and a half, and you think the Beta Sigmas are per 
 fectly lovely, don t you? " The two nodded. 
 
 "Well, it was all a put-up job," tears were filling 
 Elizabeth s eyes. "It was breaking Pan-Hellenic 
 and and Dick thought it was all right." 
 
 Marion gasped. "They did it on purpose 1 ? " 
 
 "Yes, and you know how the girls here talk about 
 a crowd that breaks Pan-Hellenic ! " 
 
 "No," said Peter, "we couldn t stand for anything 
 like that." All the brightness faded from her face 
 at the shadow which had come over one of the pleas- 
 antest evenings she could remember. 
 
 In a voice of despair Marion commented, "Well, 
 I suppose that does fix them and when everything 
 was all decided, too." 
 
 Elizabeth, choking with emotion and chagrin, 
 enlightened them still further. "And the men are 
 betting on us as if we were race-horses." 
 
 "They aren t." Peter sat up.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Yes, the Theta Phi Sigmas are keeping a book, 
 and there are lots of outside bets Jim Tabor has 
 thirty dollars up Dick told me so." Elizabeth 
 almost wept with exasperation. "I m the favourite, 
 he says, in the 22-13 d as s for Beta Sigma." 
 
 The other two were speechless. 
 
 Depression was well-nigh turned into panic on 
 the following evening. The girls had been unable 
 to break a date for a formal dinner at the Beta Sigma 
 house. The long, elaborately decorated table, the 
 softened lights, the carefully gowned girls, and the 
 music that drifted in through the open doors, held 
 no charm or sense of gaiety. Elizabeth was distant, 
 Marion was bored, and Peter refused to talk. The 
 Beta Sigmas caught the contagion, something akin 
 to stage-fright; matters desperate and weighty for 
 them were hanging in the balance. They had to 
 maintain their standing in the bitter rivalry of 
 crowds, and these three girls had been the center of 
 their efforts that season. 
 
 Course followed course, each out-classing the 
 other in uniqueness of detail. Favors were pinned 
 on amid forced enthusiasm, and the glances ex 
 changed between Marion and Elizabeth became 
 more anxious. They were troubled concerning a 
 warning which had been volunteered at Roble in 
 
 [12]
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 the early afternoon. Peter, down at one end of the 
 long table, had thrown all tact to the winds and 
 found herself in the direst complications. She had 
 thoughtlessly remarked, over fetes in general, that 
 the solitary repast of the Hindoo was ideal and that 
 banquets were a relic of barbarism. 
 
 However, the relief of the three as the end of the 
 dinner approached, made them quite exuberant. 
 They were talking gaily when the music stopped and 
 a sudden hush came over the table, as Ethel Gage 
 rose to speak. Elizabeth gave Marion a wild glance, 
 that said as plainly as words, "We re in for it now," 
 and felt tempted to drop her napkin and bolt igno- 
 miniously for the door. Marion s face became stolid, 
 and Peter s chair squeaked on the polished floor. 
 
 Ethel proved merely the toastmistress of the occa 
 sion and after a few words of sinister import, called 
 upon Edith Horner to speak on "Advice to Fresh 
 men." The three had no doubt but that they were 
 facing a "bid" with the demand for an immediate 
 reply. Every crowd had been so insistent upon the 
 date. 
 
 The notes in Edith s hand trembled ungovernably, 
 and the Freshmen watched her in stupid dread. 
 
 "What s the matter with those girls tonight 4 ? " 
 Ethel asked under cover of the speech. 
 
 [13]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "They re so strained. Something must have hap 
 pened. They were just the opposite the other 
 evening." 
 
 "I don t know. I guess they re going Lambda 
 Eta and want to let us see it." 
 
 "There s an understanding all right did you see 
 the glances they exchanged? " 
 
 "I m worried sick about them. I thought we had 
 them sure." 
 
 Late that night, when the Hall was sunk in slum 
 ber, Peter and Elizabeth were still discussing the 
 situation. 
 
 "Weren t the Lambda Etas restful after that aw 
 ful dinner. How could the Beta Sigmas think that 
 such display would make an impression? " 
 
 "Upon three tired Freshmen looking for a home," 
 finished Peter wistfully. "But do you know, Eliza 
 beth, the Lambda Etas weren t a bit cordial to me, 
 and they fell all over you and Elizabeth. I m afraid 
 I can t bear to think of it that they aren t going 
 to ask me." 
 
 In spite of the false warning concerning the night 
 before, the girls still followed the information of 
 fered by the sorority-wise Robleites of their close 
 acquaintance, and sent Peter to the post-office at cer 
 tain hours during the day to receive the mailed invi- 
 
 [14]
 
 THREE R*S 
 
 tations. They avoided meeting the sorority girls 
 on the Quad as if they were plague-stricken. 
 
 After the fifth trip for the mail, Peter balked. 
 There had been nothing but a letter from Dick for 
 Elizabeth. The latter took the envelope and tore it 
 up calmly and emphatically. 
 
 "I ve been very much disappointed in Dick," she 
 murmured. 
 
 Peter and Marion looked away. Then the smaller 
 girl said slowly, "It s all in a lifetime and a rush 
 ing season, Elizabeth." 
 
 A few minutes after nine that evening, Peter 
 walked slowly into her room. Her heart was pound 
 ing until it almost suffocated her. She knew that 
 the bids had been delivered in person an hour before. 
 By the window Marion stood looking into the black 
 ness of the night, morose and silent. Peter stared 
 at the back of her head so stiff in bearing at her 
 uncompromising shoulders, and words failed her. 
 She turned toward Elizabeth, who sat on the trunk, 
 half stooping over and jerking the strap with a 
 trembling hand. 
 
 "Is there anything for me 4 ? " Peter managed to 
 ask. 
 
 Elizabeth pointed to the table, and buried her 
 face deep in a pillow that lay near. 
 
 [15]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Peter found one letter, which she opened roughly, 
 and then she stood biting her lips, staring at the 
 Beta Sigma monogram. 
 
 Elizabeth could contain herself no longer and 
 sobbed aloud. Marion came over from the window 
 and put her arm around Peter comfortingly. 
 
 The small figure stiffened and drew away. "Don t 
 mind me," she said harshly. "I m glad you re going 
 to be happy, but I ll never join the Beta Sigmas." 
 
 Elizabeth raised her head and her eyes flashed 
 angrily. "We won t go anything, Peter, if you can t 
 go with us." 
 
 "No. I won t stand for that." The other shook 
 her head hopelessly and forced a weak smile. 
 
 "I hate rushing I hate sororities I hate col 
 lege," Marion burst out tempestuously. 
 
 "Girls," said Peter resolutely, "you are going to 
 be Lambda Etas. You are going to be happy, and 
 I am glad. It s nonsense to think of not doing it just 
 because they didn t ask me. You would always 
 regret it. There are lots of advantages in fraternity 
 life." There was a note of longing in Peter s voice. 
 "But I shall console myself with the disadvantages," 
 she added whimsically. 
 
 "Peter," began Marion. 
 
 "No, don t make it any harder, for I m going to 
 
 [16]
 
 THE THREE R S , 
 
 be as brave as I can. I ll miss you awfully. You ll 
 never be the same again. There is a difference 
 already. You are going up tomorrow to pledge 
 yourselves to the Lambda Etas, and I am going now 
 to begin my career as a Hall girl." Peter s hand 
 was on the door. She smiled as she went out and 
 closed it softly behind her. 
 
 Marion and Elizabeth stared at each other in 
 amazement. The latter started for the door, but 
 turning back, "We ve lost Peter," she sobbed, resting 
 her head upon the table, "and all for 
 
 "What? " said Marion fiercely. 
 
 Marion and Elizabeth were the last breakfasting 
 in the big dining-room. They could not, for their 
 lives, have told the gist of the editorial they were 
 so assiduously reading, as they allowed their meal 
 to grow cold, and it was with feigned surprise that 
 they looked up at Margaret s unusually cheerful 
 "Good morning," as she entered the room. They 
 watched her in round-eyed silence as she seated her 
 self, then glanced again at the editorial. 
 
 "Anything exciting in the Daily ? " 
 
 "I don t know here, look for yourself," said 
 Elizabeth tossing her a paper. 
 
 The girls now became engrossed in the meal, oc 
 casionally glancing up at Margaret s face. It was 
 
 [17]
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 inscrutable, betraying none of the bitterness that 
 they knew must lie beneath. 
 
 "Going up the Row in a few minutes ? " Margaret 
 asked evenly. 
 
 "Yes," the others muttered, with downcast eyes. 
 
 "I m mighty glad " she began, but they burst 
 
 forth impulsively, "O Peter, Peter, " 
 
 "Don t," said the other hastily, "there s absolutely 
 no use." 
 
 So occupied were Marion and Elizabeth with 
 their own thoughts that they did not see Dick and 
 Shorty Oliver as they crossed from the Quad to the 
 Row, and consequently were unaware of their sur- 
 prise in not seeing the third girl. 
 
 "She isn t like the old Peter at all," Elizabeth said 
 wonderingly. 
 
 "I don t know why," Marion answered, "but I 
 couldn t say a word to her. I believe that I was 
 afraid to." 
 
 "I felt like a whipped child that had to go and 
 do what it was supposed to, and she was the one 
 doing the supposing." 
 
 "She s a brave girl." Marion s tone was almost 
 envious. 
 
 "And we re beastly little cowards," said Eliza 
 beth feelingly. There was a threat in Marion s
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 voice as she next spoke. "I m tempted to flee to 
 the hills; " but Elizabeth made no response. 
 
 They had walked almost half the length of the 
 Row, not conscious of its unusual aspect for a Sat 
 urday morning, and just as oblivious to the running 
 comment that took place on the fraternity steps and 
 between the lawns and the windows. This was the 
 one day in the semester when the sorority and the 
 fraternity houses were easily distinguishable; the 
 one, silent, curtained, desolate, as if the hand of 
 death had been laid upon it, and the other gay with 
 life, men sitting on the steps, men leaning from 
 fhe windows, men standing on the lawns. Cushions 
 were flung to attract attention, and gleeful high 
 signs passed from house to house as the girls con 
 tinued on their way. Small bets were made in an 
 undertone, and looks of surprise began to spread 
 as one after another queried about Margaret Sears. 
 All questions and answers were carried on chiefly 
 in pantomime, and so it was that the girls, engrossed 
 in their thoughts of Margaret, and the ordeal that 
 they were to face, did not become conscious of the 
 gauntlet that they were running. 
 
 The men began to group, and there was an in 
 tense silence, as the two approached the Beta Sigma 
 house. The girls seemed to hesitate an instant at 
 
 [19]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the turn of the walk. The breathlessness of the Row 
 must have influenced Marion, for she looked up sud 
 denly to catch the whole of the Theta Phi Sigma 
 fraternity leaning far out of the windows of their 
 house. 
 
 "Come, hurry, Lizbeth, the whole campus is 
 watching us," she said nervously. "I forgot about 
 the betting look at that house." 
 
 "No wonder they re hanging out of their windows. 
 They ll lose about a hundred and sixty today, I 
 guess. They were betting on us, 22-13, m favor of 
 Beta Sigma," Elizabeth said breathlessly, attempt 
 ing to keep up with Marion s stride. 
 
 They were now well past the Beta Sigma house. 
 Some of the men danced up and down, choking with 
 glee. The Theta Phi Sigmas made the despairing 
 gesture of drowning men and disappeared from their 
 windows. Cheering was heard in the distance, and 
 the girls hurried on. 
 
 Their feet grew heavy as they turned off the Row 
 under the silent scrutiny of three fraternity houses. 
 Motionless, the men watched them climb the steps. 
 The door swung half open and engulfed them 
 amidst the gleeful shouts of welcome from the 
 throats of twenty Lambda Etas. 
 
 For an instant there was a gasp of astonishment, 
 
 [20]
 
 THE THREE R S 
 
 and then the campus turned pandemonium with 
 lusty shout on shout and clanking of cow-bells. Men 
 ran from lawn to lawn, voices buzzed, rumours 
 spread at the rate of twenty or more a minute. 
 
 "Say, you Theta Phis," cried out one jubilant 
 youth, "your 22-13 s as good almost as the 16-1." 
 
 "Hurrah for our Theta Phi Bryans," shouted 
 another. "When are you going to pay out your 
 checks ? " 
 
 And the campus laughed. Then, insistent above 
 the joshing and the questions, came talk of Margaret 
 Sears. Where is she*? Didn t she get bids? Has 
 she thrown them all down Impossible, betting ran 
 highest on her. So rumor after rumor passed from 
 house to house, like ripples on a lake. Miss Sears 
 has been suddenly called to the city refuted. Jack 
 Spaulding had seen her that morning. She is hold 
 ing off perhaps. She did not get the bid she 
 wanted. She had Beta Sigma and wanted Lambda 
 Eta and vice versa. 
 
 Even after initiations had been held, and fra 
 ternity and sorority life had sunk back to the plane 
 of study and queening, the ripples continued, al 
 though fainter and farther apart. But those who 
 could have in part told, and those who could have 
 furnished the links to the chain of the 19 rushing 
 season were silent. r -,
 
 <5irt an6 a 5lu6ibranc
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 With a gesture that plainly said she had finished 
 her work for that afternoon, Miss Wayne tossed aside 
 her instruments, and, half turning in her chair, gazed 
 around the laboratory. There was a disapproving 
 frown between her daintily arched eyebrows as she 
 regarded the other side of the small, rudely furnished 
 room, where six pairs of broad, masculine shoulders 
 bent over microscopes ranged along the oilcloth-cov 
 ered tables. It was stuffy inside and contrastingly 
 breezy and delightful out on the cliffs which the long 
 windows of the laboratory overlooked. Besides, 
 Miss Wayne was not a believer in excessive work, 
 and having been unusually industrious for two 
 hours she considered it her duty to enliven the time 
 that remained. To her it was a huge joke that per 
 fectly able-bodied men who expected to make their 
 mark in the world as lawyers and engineers, should 
 spend whole days trying to pick out the nervous 
 system of a clam. And why, she reasoned, should 
 they grow round-shouldered working over impossible 
 bugs when she was there to entertain them ? 
 
 On her own side of the room, Miss Wayne had 
 little sympathy, seated as she was between Miss
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Hall and Miss Miller. The one was a homely, good- 
 hearted girl, excruciatingly neat, who worked for 
 "A s" with Phi Beta Kappa in view. The other 
 was a nervous school-teacher who fussed unneces 
 sarily, but who entirely disapproved of wasting 
 time. 
 
 The men for the most part were quite willing to 
 be entertained, and submitted gallantly to Miss 
 Wayne s beneficent rule. Had she not, with fem 
 inine artlessness, imbued the daily routine of the 
 laboratory with the atmosphere of a pink tea, and 
 lent to the whole session of the summer school a 
 social glamor which those who came there yearly 
 to do original investigation had never dreamed of? 
 
 Not that Miss Wayne was the kind that worked 
 without a theory. She had reasons and stated them 
 frankly. She believed in cultivating the social side 
 of life and did so wherever she went, even amidst 
 the most discouraging material. Her experiences 
 had led her to the conclusion that men in general 
 were vastly more interesting than girls. The chief 
 end of higher education for women was to fit them 
 intellectually to be leaders of select coteries and 
 salons. Thus Miss Wayne had not hesitated at 
 burying herself for six weeks within the modest con 
 fines of Pacific Grove in order that she might the 
 
 [26]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 sooner add to her list of accomplishments the dis 
 tinction of "college graduate." With an elaborate 
 wardrobe she had descended upon the sleepy, pic 
 turesque town, for though Miss Wayne was very 
 democratic and mingled with the common herd, her 
 dress was always in striking contrast. Rather aristo 
 cratic features and quantities of light hair added to 
 the attractiveness of her general frankness and good 
 comradeship. As yet she was unattached, and aside 
 from her approbation of masculinity in general, con 
 sidered each new man in the light of the possible 
 one. It was certain, however, that none of the six 
 whose backs she regarded would ever attain to that 
 eminence. 
 
 Mr. Thorne, tall, grave, but with a keen sense 
 of humor that played about the corners of his 
 mouth, she had known always. Besides, he had 
 his mother down with him. Mr. Holt, although 
 he took her to Del Monte as often as she pleased, 
 was too casual in his preferences and he could 
 never be serious. Bob Morton, often brutal and 
 ungracious in his remarks, although he endured 
 her society, was a sworn enemy. He was engaged 
 to a girl whom she hated. The rest were interesting 
 but impossible. 
 
 [27]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Miss Wayne singled out Thome for her first 
 remark. 
 
 "What s the use of working so hard, Will? " she 
 queried. 
 
 Thome turned around with a droll smile. "De 
 pends on what you call work," he said. "Now some 
 people might call this pleasure." 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Holt, "whenever I want to have 
 a little pleasure, I ll ask the cook for a clam and my 
 mother for a darning needle and have a perfectly 
 lovely time ! " 
 
 "There s no joke about this," growled Bob. His 
 clumsiness with a microscope made one think of a 
 great big bear. He lost his temper whenever he 
 broke a slide and worked three times as hard over 
 his smudgy drawings as the others did. "Wish I d 
 taken Botany," he finished. "They go out picking 
 flowers every day." 
 
 Miss Wayne laughed. She had a picture of Bob 
 out in a field picking flowers for five hours Uni 
 versity credit. 
 
 Morton resented her laugh. "And that s not 
 funny either," he said. 
 
 "You d better change," said Miss Wayne. There 
 was friendly rivalry between the two laboratories 
 
 [28]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 which occupied separate buildings, and Bob had 
 changed twice already. 
 
 "Well," Holt commented, "in spite of the odor 
 iferous atmosphere over here I think a fellow gets 
 more use out of this than pulling flowers to pieces." 
 
 "I ve learned enough never to eat another clam as 
 long as I live," said Miss Wayne, "and I hear we re 
 going to have a mussel bake soon ! " 
 
 "And study them the week after," Thorne smiled. 
 
 Bob announced that they weren t half bad, and 
 Miss Miller averred that everybody ate them every 
 year. Much as she fought against it, Miss Miller 
 could keep out of no conversation that was started, 
 and the topics discussed in the laboratory ranged 
 from clams to politics and religion. 
 
 Mr. Brayton, the young assistant, was the first to 
 break in upon the easy run of talk that passed from 
 one desk to another. He paused in the doorway for 
 a moment considering who seemed most in need 
 of aid. It might have occurred to him that he was 
 intruding on the languid atmosphere of idleness, for 
 his presence suggested the idea "What will we 
 have to do now 1 ? " Miss Wayne, looking up, caught 
 his eye and in answer to her smile and gesture of dis 
 tress, he approached her desk. Mr. Brayton was 
 tall, dark, broad-shouldered, and remarkably good- 
 
 [29]
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 looking. It was evident to every one in the labor 
 atory that Miss Wayne looked upon him with espe 
 cial favor. He was the only real possibility down 
 there. In this respect he stood out in contrast to the 
 six who ornamented one side of the laboratory. And 
 in addition to his handsomeness and a certain amount 
 of reserve, there was the superiority of his position 
 in the narrow life of the summer school. He was 
 the final authority, even more so than Professor 
 Waters, who did research work upstairs upon nudi- 
 brancs. 
 
 Miss Wayne had a great respect for learning of 
 any kind, and she liked people who were quiet and 
 reserved. She had written to her dearest friend that 
 she intended to rush Mr. Brayton when she returned 
 to college. Oblivious of this, Mr. Brayton showed 
 no tendency toward anything save utter indifference. 
 In fact, it was doubtful whether he entirely approved 
 of Miss Wayne. He made suggestions relative to 
 her work in his most professional manner and merely 
 smiled superiorly when she marveled at his skill in 
 dissecting. 
 
 "How can you be so cruel, Mr. Bray ton 4 ?" she 
 exclaimed over the intricacy of the drawing that 
 he required. He relented so far as to bring her a 
 book in which there was a very clear diagram, and 
 
 [30]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 then blamed himself for having done so. He be 
 lieved in showing no preferences and required the 
 same work from everybody, but Miss Wayne some 
 how always managed to escape the drudgery. She 
 spent most of her time in inventing ways to evade 
 the disagreeable things, and she did it so ingeni 
 ously that Brayton hardly blamed her for it. 
 
 During the last ten minutes of the afternoon, Pro 
 fessor Waters came down from upstairs. He stood 
 in the doorway holding something on the palm of 
 his outstretched hand, with the other beckoning the 
 students of both the inner and outer rooms to gather 
 around. They did so with much needless creaking 
 and shuffling; and when they were packed into a 
 semi-circle of questioning faces, the Professor cleared 
 his throat and began, "Now I want everybody to 
 see this. This is a nudibranc. Mr. Brayton will 
 please write the name on the board nudibranc. It 
 belongs to the family of mollusks. I want every 
 body to see this because we are going collecting 
 again in the morning and I want the class particu 
 larly to look for nudibrancs. This one happens to 
 be yellow, but we find them in all different colors. 
 Out over the sink I have posted a description of a 
 gray one which I am very anxious to find. There 
 is a reward for any specimen in good condition. Five 
 
 [31]
 
 NOT 1 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 years ago one of that kind was found here, but none 
 have been collected since." Professor Waters paused. 
 "That s all," he said abruptly and vanished. 
 
 Miss Wayne sought out Mr. Brayton. She 
 wanted to see the nudibranc that had been collected 
 five years ago, so that she could not possibly miss 
 another if she came across it. 
 
 The assistant considered, and then going upstairs 
 returned bringing a small bottle containing a gray 
 and white snail-like creature no larger than a thim 
 ble. He left it with Miss Wayne who with extreme 
 care removed it from the bottle and examined it on 
 all sides. 
 
 Then suddenly it was four o clock. Every one 
 was emptying pans, shutting drawers and putting 
 instruments away. In her hurry, Miss Wayne 
 dumped the gray nudibranc into a general specimen 
 jar and put the cover on. 
 
 The last Mr. Brayton saw of her she was stand 
 ing on the steps laughingly inviting Thome and Holt 
 to have tea in the little Japanese tea-garden that 
 overlooked the bay. Her glance really included the 
 assistant, but she did not quite dare to ask him. 
 
 Two days later the class was still amusing itself 
 with killing the nudibrancs which had been collected, 
 using the process of slow alcohol whereby they died 
 
 [32]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 beautifully extended and not rolled up in a hard 
 ball. There had been great rivalry between Thorne 
 and Miss Wayne as to which one had found the most, 
 while Bob Morton, who had notoriously helped him 
 self from everybody else s pail, had put in his claim. 
 It was a little matter to Miss Wayne, but for the 
 sake of the jest, for she was nothing if not game, 
 she had looked around for another to add to her 
 seven so that they might compete with Thome s 
 eight. She saw the five-year old gray nudibranc in 
 the specimen jar, and without further thought de 
 posited Professor Waters s prize exhibit in the dish 
 of half dead ones. They were funny little creatures, 
 red, purple, and yellow, some with graceful tentacle- 
 like protuberances on their backs. 
 
 When all of them were finally pronounced dead, 
 they were transferred to a permanent bottle, where 
 the little gray nudibranc would have rested in peace 
 until it had become lost forever, had not Mr. Thorne 
 discovered it as he casually stopped at Miss Wayne s 
 desk in an effort to waste time and meanwhile assure 
 himself that she had counted them straight. 
 
 "Where did you get this? " he exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh," said Miss Wayne, forgetting, "one of the 
 nudibrancs? I don t remember just which pool I 
 
 [33]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 fished him out of. What s the matter with him? 
 Anything extraordinary 1 ? " 
 
 "Why," Mr. Thorne was really excited. "It s a 
 gray one, the one Professor Waters wanted. I won 
 der why I didn t see it before? " 
 
 Professor Waters was in the outer room, and with 
 out waiting further, Thorne rushed in. "Did you 
 see this, Professor? " he exploded. "Isn t this that 
 gray nudibranc you were speaking about? Miss 
 Wayne picked it up." 
 
 Professor Waters took one look, then he beck 
 oned frantically to both classes. "Everybody come 
 here," he said. "Some one has found a gray nudi 
 branc." The students gathered hurriedly, and he 
 continued, his countenance beaming with satisfac 
 tion. "Notice the gray edges fading into the narrow 
 white margin! That s what I wanted! Where did 
 you find it, Miss Wayne? In under the shadow of 
 a rock? That s where they hide ! " 
 
 The girl was bewildered. She knew that some 
 thing was wrong, and yet it seemed as though she 
 must have found it if it was with her collection. "I 
 don t remember exactly," she stammered. "Can I 
 see it a minute, please?" The bottle was passed over. 
 
 Then Miss Wayne remembered, and collapsed into 
 her chair helplessly. Professor Waters was leaning 
 
 [34]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 over her desk congratulating her, telling her how 
 well she had preserved the specimen, and even strain 
 ing a point to say that Mr. Brayton had commented 
 favorably on her work. He was all affability and 
 pleasantness because he was pleased. That was his 
 way. 
 
 "But," Miss Wayne began, "but," and then her 
 voice died away. She lacked the moral courage. 
 In her devotion to the social side of life, she had 
 often found it expedient and convenient to slide over 
 small points of honor, and she was weak in that 
 respect. She hesitated, and Professor Waters de 
 parted upstairs with his treasure, not knowing. Pres 
 ently Miss Wayne s sense of humor and her happy- 
 go-lucky disposition came to help her out. "Well, if 
 he doesn t know his own five-year-old specimen, I 
 think it is a huge joke." Besides, she still felt the 
 situation within her grasp, even if it came to a tact 
 ful explanation. She was the heroine for the rest 
 of the afternoon and carried off her triumph ad 
 mirably. 
 
 "Just pass some of your luck over this way," 
 called the genial Holt. 
 
 "I bet you bought it somewhere," growled Bob 
 Morton. 
 
 [35]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Miss Wayne laughed, for she never let Bob know 
 when he offended. 
 
 Mr. Brayton had also joined in the congratula 
 tions and wondered at her phenomenal good fortune. 
 Just as the class was leaving he went upstairs in 
 answer to the summons of Professor Waters. 
 
 "Get me that other nudibranc, John," he said. "I 
 want to compare it with this one belonging to Miss 
 Wayne." 
 
 Then Mr. Brayton remembered. He dashed 
 downstairs and picked up the empty bottle from 
 Miss Wayne s desk the bottle which had contained 
 the gray nudibranc for the last five years. Mr. 
 Brayton could not believe what he knew must be so. 
 He looked in all the alcohol jars and collecting pails 
 near by. Then he sat down on the edge of the table. 
 There was no use looking for the thing. Professor 
 Waters had it up in his office at that minute. He 
 was astounded at the nerve of a certain girl. It 
 couldn t have been a joke, and the object of it 
 floored him. He thought. Professor Waters called 
 down impatiently and he went up. The result was 
 some lie about having overhauled the supply closet 
 recently and misplaced it. Thome came into the 
 laboratory for some article that he had forgotten 
 
 [36]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 and heard Professor Waters s parting words as Mr. 
 Brayton came downstairs again. 
 
 "I wish you would look through everything im 
 mediately, John. It s very annoying not to have it 
 for comparison." 
 
 "Lose something, Brayton?" asked Thome sym 
 pathetically. 
 
 "The original gray nudibranc," was the answer. 
 
 "Did you leave it down here?" 
 
 "Yes, right here," and he brought his fist down 
 emphatically on Miss Wayne s desk. There was 
 sarcasm in his voice and he knew it, but he could 
 not help it. He set his teeth hard to prevent him 
 self from saying anything further. Mr. Thome 
 whistled softly, and Brayton bolted out where the 
 stiff sea-breeze and the little path along the cliffs 
 invited him to walk. His ears tingled with the re 
 buke against his carelessness, and he was mad 
 swearing mad. He railed against co-education and 
 especially against a certain type of butterfly girl who 
 came to college for no reason in particular, who 
 butted in on the sacred precincts of Science, and who 
 juggled valuable specimens without any apparent 
 regard of consequences. She was the cause of his 
 first break with Professor Waters, upon whose erratic 
 
 [37]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 preferment he was relying to obtain a certain position 
 for the following year. 
 
 For the next few days Brayton stalked around the 
 laboratory with the manner and the bearing of a 
 martyr. He was extremely frigid and avoided Miss 
 Wayne when possible. The latter was unusually 
 subdued. The reward for the nudibranc had come to 
 her through the postoffice without comment and ad 
 dressed in Mr. Bray ton s hand. She perceived the 
 disdain in which she was held by the young assistant. 
 She thought that he seemed pale and worried and 
 that Professor Waters was unusually sharp with him. 
 
 Then, too, there was something the matter with 
 Will. One day he had walked out on the point with 
 her and talked of nothing but Brayton; of what a 
 fine fellow he was and how he was all cut up be 
 cause Professor Waters was down on him. Then, 
 too, he told how the assistant was working himself 
 to death going out at four every morning looking 
 for some kind of nudibranc. Thome s conversation 
 was evidently to a purpose, and though Miss Wayne 
 had appeared entirely oblivious to it, she was deeply 
 impressed. She saw that she had evidently "done 
 something," and that Mr. Brayton was suffering on 
 account of it; this was another of those bothersome 
 situations into which she was always running, where 
 
 [38]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 everybody else expected her to do something of which 
 she was entirely ignorant. "Why," she wondered, 
 "did people take things so seriously? " Miss Wayne 
 pouted with annoyance. "These science people," 
 she kept reiterating. Meanwhile Mr. Brayton 
 ignored her as though she were an insignificant no 
 body! Miss Wayne s pride rose. 
 
 By all means, he should have back his valuable 
 nudibranc ! It made no difference to her in the least. 
 With her sweetest smile she interviewed Professor 
 Waters and borrowed the gray nudibranc, "in order 
 to make a drawing from it," as she said, "for her 
 notebook." Ten minutes later it was in Mr. Bray- 
 ton s hands without explanation. Mr. Brayton 
 accepted it without comment and considered that 
 only just restitution had been made. He renewed 
 the story about the overhauling of the supply closet 
 and as evidence of his successful search produced the 
 gray nudibranc in its original bottle. Professor 
 Waters reduced the charge against him from one of 
 gross carelessness to one of negligence. Miss Wayne 
 regained her gaiety of spirits and entertained the six 
 unusually well until a demand was made for the 
 specimen which she had borrowed to draw. It was 
 Brayton who brought the request, and he was for a 
 moment staggered when she paralleled his lie about 
 
 [39]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the supply closet with one of having taken the speci 
 men home and lost it because of the carelessness of 
 the landlady. However, in an interview with Pro 
 fessor Waters later, Miss Wayne gained a much bet 
 ter idea of the seriousness of juggling with a valuable 
 specimen. Somehow she received the vague impres 
 sion that her hours depended on her finding a certain 
 gray nudibranc, the whereabouts of which she knew 
 perfectly well. It was not so much what he said as 
 what he looked and didn t say, and that awful hint 
 about the hours. Miss Wayne was thunderstruck 
 it would mean an extra semester at college, and all 
 for a very small insignificant animal that she had 
 never heard of a month before. Something had to 
 be done, however, and Miss Wayne was never at a 
 loss when action became imperative. She had found 
 that she generally succeeded in her undertakings, and 
 if a nudibranc was to be found, she did not doubt 
 for a moment but that she was capable of getting it. 
 Her methods were convenient if rather unscien 
 tific, an, improvement on Bray ton s, she thought. 
 The man himself wondered how she would handle 
 the situation, though he was convinced that it did not 
 concern him in the least and that she was entirely 
 efficient. When the class was through that day, Miss 
 Wayne went down to the bath-house and interviewed 
 
 [40]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 a number of small boys who habitually hung around 
 the mechanical pianos on the porch which overlooked 
 the beach. The next morning her alarm clock went 
 off at four. Brayton, who was also out early looking 
 for laboratory material, caught a glimpse of her 
 gray skirt and sweater scarcely distinguishable in 
 the fog of the early morning. She was headed out 
 the little path that ran along the cliffs to the light 
 house, and behind her trailed six young urchins. Mr. 
 Brayton almost dropped his pail in astonishment 
 and wonderingly worked up the rocks in that direc 
 tion. He came upon her seated on a commanding 
 rock near the shore. Below her the six small boys 
 scrambled over the slippery seaweed, dived into the 
 pools left by the receding tide, or scampered over 
 the rocks like young crabs. 
 
 The fog still hung low, and offshore, through the 
 white blanket could be heard the voices of the 
 fishermen calling from boat to boat as they rowed 
 out toward the entrance of the bay. Miss Wayne, 
 however, was too busy to notice them. She was 
 superintending peremptorily the actions of the small 
 boys, pointing now to one pool and now to an 
 other, as worth their attention. 
 
 "Good morning, you re out early, Miss Wayne," 
 called the man. 
 
 [41]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Oh, I often come out to see the sunrise," she 
 answered. 
 
 Then Miss Wayne stood up. "Here you," she 
 cried, "work nearer inshore, you never find them out 
 that far." 
 
 Mr. Brayton was puzzled and could not restrain 
 his curiosity. 
 
 "May I ask what you re looking for? " he said. 
 
 "A gray nudibranc," Miss Wayne replied calmly 
 and with some hauteur. 
 
 "You don t mean"- - began the man. 
 
 "My hours depend upon it," she interrupted. 
 
 "He wasn t that hard on you! Why, why didn t 
 you keep the one you had once 1 ? " 
 
 "I was given to understand that it was making 
 trouble, and I wasn t going to let you have all the 
 fun of finding another, you know." 
 
 Brayton almost forgave her, but not quite. 
 
 "Was it a joke? " he asked. 
 
 "Not exactly," said Miss Wayne; "it began with 
 an accident. I didn t remember where I put it, and 
 then when I did " 
 
 There was a scream from one of the urchins, fol 
 lowed by a splash, out where the green swells washed 
 the farthest rocks. The other boys shouted and ran 
 in that direction, and Mr. Brayton shot down over 
 
 [42]
 
 A GIRL AND A NUDIBRANC 
 
 the rocks, leaping from point to point with unerring 
 balance and firmness of foothold. The little fellow 
 with true primitive instinct was dog-paddling in the 
 deep pool below the rock, though too terror-stricken 
 to be conscious of it. The man pulled him out by 
 the back of his collar, and the next minute the sob 
 bing youngster, wrapped in Miss Wayne s sweater 
 and Mr. Brayton s coat, was being hurried home. 
 
 "Another score against the nudibranc," com 
 mented the girl as they walked back along the little 
 path on the cliffs. She was holding the boy s hand 
 and drying his tears at intervals. 
 
 "It s my fault," she added, "for being so unpardon- 
 ably lazy. I should have looked for it myself. I 
 suppose it s all part of what I deserved." 
 
 Mr. Brayton was not quite sure what he should 
 say. 
 
 "I m afraid, Mr. Brayton," the girl broke in, "that 
 you don t approve of me in the least." 
 
 "I confess" the other was rather startled "that 
 I didn t understand " 
 
 "And that I haven t explained it yet," Miss 
 Wayne finished. "Well, there isn t any explanation, 
 
 and still " Miss Wayne s inflection implied all 
 
 that she left unsaid. 
 
 Mr. Brayton felt that his resentment was losing 
 
 [43]
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 ground. He could not hold fast to it in the light of 
 such frankness and generosity. They had almost for 
 gotten the little fellow who was stumbling along 
 between them. He had stopped sobbing, and be 
 tween his chattering teeth queried, "Wot you scrap- 
 pin about 4 ?" 
 
 "Nothing," said the man, "only an unfortunate 
 lack of a sense of humor." 
 
 Miss Wayne looked at him in surprise, and then 
 suddenly reverting to other topics, kept up a lively 
 conversation the remainder of the walk. 
 
 The next day Mr. Brayton made an early and hur 
 ried trip to Carmel, where he explored numerous 
 tide-caves thoroughly and successfully. He brought 
 back something at the sight of which Miss Wayne 
 almost became hysterical with joy and which they 
 spent all day Sunday killing by the process of slow 
 alcohol, in the quiet and deserted laboratory. 
 
 That evening Thorne watched them sauntering 
 out to enjoy the afterglow of the sunset on the 
 waves off the Point. Miss Wayne s smart figure 
 showed well on the skyline beside the silhouette of 
 the tall, broad-shouldered assistant. Miss Wayne 
 was gesticulating with animation. Thorne whistled 
 and sat down on a rock suddenly. "That gets me," 
 he said. 
 
 [44]
 
 on
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 "Daniel Gibbons, Youngstown last of the 
 Mohicans! " The long sheet of Interscholastic en 
 tries came off the machine with a vicious tear 
 as Graham, sole survivor of the bunch of im 
 pressed typists, tilted his chair back wearily 
 against the big study table in Room 1 1 o, En- 
 cina, and regarded the Board of Governors over 
 his shoulder. He had slipped with versatile alacrity 
 from a tedious, one-fingered execution on the rattling 
 old Remington borrowed from the "Daily" office 
 into his official capacity as President of the Board. 
 
 Graham took his pipe out of his mouth and 
 thoughtfully considered the battered alarm-clock be 
 side him. "Everybody here 1 ? " he yawned down the 
 table, counting off the eight or nine men in a glance. 
 
 Room no had grown to be, in Graham s four 
 years of Hall residence, the favourite meeting-place 
 of the clans, from the chronic queeners who lounged 
 about, retailing gossipy morsels or exchanging dances 
 for the next Prom, to the track and baseball men 
 who wagged their heads solemnly over their own 
 prophecies on coming week-end events. Graham had 
 come into living contact with all the intricacies of 
 
 [47]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the problems discussed under his hospitable roof. 
 And there was something in his perspective that went 
 beyond an intimacy with the affairs of his Alma 
 Mater, something that made even the men who 
 knew him best strangely uncomfortable with him at 
 times. They were conscious of that disconcerting 
 laughter of the gods twinkling behind his gray eyes. 
 It was as if Graham played his part with enthusiastic 
 loyalty but from a view-point that gauged the sig 
 nificance of it all, not by the exaggerated and colossal 
 importance of immature, college interests, but by 
 the fundamentals of an outside world forgotten in 
 the four halcyon years of the undergraduate. Yet 
 the proverbial red of the Stanford spirit pulsed 
 warmly through his husky frame and the whole- 
 heartedness of his devotion in doing the things his 
 University asked him to do was more than con 
 vincing to those who suspected him at odd moments 
 of a preponderance of the philosopher. 
 
 "Meeting ll come to order," he began. The Board 
 of Governors settled themselves in their chairs and as 
 a special mark of respect for the occasion, took their 
 feet down from the table all except Shorty Oliver, 
 whose irrepressibleness the community had long since 
 agreed to ignore. 
 
 "We ve fixed up the housing of the Preps, fellows, 
 
 [48]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 and I ll give you the list as it stands now. We can 
 make any minor changes you suggest. But before 
 I begin I d like to say that this job hasn t been any 
 pipe-dream. There isn t a house that hasn t had a 
 kick coming on some score some one they wanted 
 they didn t get, or some one they got they didn t 
 want. Well, it was up to us to take them as the 
 applications came in and do our best. I ve made 
 out duplicate lists as the thing stands now. Here, 
 Dean, hand em round. Give each fellow his own 
 and I ll read for the absentees. You begin, old 
 man," he commanded. Dean sorted out the official- 
 looking cards handed to him and hurriedly read 
 off the string of guests allotted to Theta Phi. 
 
 "We made fifteen applications," the latter com 
 mented in a disgruntled voice as he finished; "six 
 of the Madison men, some of the Oakland kids and 
 a bunch from St. John s. You ve only given us 
 twelve here and two of the fellows we ve never even 
 heard of." 
 
 "Get out your data on pedigree, Mr. President," 
 Shorty Oliver observed facetiously. "Nothin short 
 o blue ribbons will get a Prep floor space in Room 
 27, Encina, I can tell you. I m particular, I am." 
 
 Graham did not appear to have heard him. "Look 
 here, Dean," he remonstrated with the Theta Phi. 
 
 [49]
 
 "You ve got your Madison men all right, ten of 
 them." 
 
 "More n we want," Dean replied shortly, "and we 
 get left on the others entirely Oakland and the 
 South," he added complainingly a moment later. 
 
 "Well, you know we can t split a big team like 
 the Madison bunch just because your fraternity 
 hasn t got a rec for them all. As for the others, 
 you ought not to take any chances, old boy, when 
 war manoeuvres are on ! The Alpha Zets were up 
 too early for you, that s all. They asked for the St. 
 John s men, too, and their application was in a 
 month ago." 
 
 "Dear me ! " came in a mocking aside from Shorty 
 as he lifted his right foot from the table and prodded 
 a fellow-committeeman s ribs to gain his attention. 
 "I m afraid to death I am going to miss getting that 
 charming little spinort from Milpitas. I meant to 
 apply to Graham for him last season ! Ain t it a pity, 
 huh? " 
 
 The flippancy of the irrepressible member was 
 coldly ignored. 
 
 "Come on, Carson, give them your data," Graham 
 directed, as a tall, quiet-spoken fellow at the other 
 end of the table spread out his lists in front of him, 
 adjusted himself in his chair and proceeded to launch 
 
 [50]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 upon the interested Board of Governors a role of eli- 
 gibles which represented Alpha Zeta s hopes pros 
 pective for the next four years to come. The names 
 of the coveted St. John s youths finished off Carson s 
 list, but there was an impersonal note in the Alpha 
 Zet s voice which disarmed the irritation of his 
 scooped fellow-committeemen. 
 
 "By the way, who are they? Howard Hoyt, St. 
 John s; Stuart Logan, St. John s; Clarence Dean." 
 Graham s voice held a note of amused curiosity. 
 "Not one of the applications missed them. That s 
 popularity, eh? Any relation, old man? " he queried, 
 as he turned laughingly toward Dean. 
 
 The perusal of lists became patently self-conscious 
 the length of the table. Only half-repressed, a 
 chuckle of amusement made itself audible in the 
 room as Dean retorted with obvious bravado, "Yes, 
 it s my kid brother and a couple of his friends. I m 
 afraid that Carson s claims will have to be waived. 
 I have a letter here," diving awkwardly into his 
 inside pocket, "from Mrs. Logan, accepting our in 
 vitation a week or more ago." 
 
 Graham took the letter perfunctorily and read 
 aloud.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 THE ELMS, 
 
 T^ GOWER STREET, Los ANGELES. 
 
 Dear Harry, 
 
 Your delightful invitation for Stuart and myself 
 to spend Interscholastic week with you at Stanford 
 is accepted, of course, with much pleasure. If I had 
 needed anything to persuade me, your mother s de 
 scription of your attractive club-house and the life 
 the boys lead so happily together, would have been 
 quite enough. I have promised your mother besides 
 that I will look after Clarence and see that he takes 
 care of his cold, so you may expect me with my little 
 brood sometime Saturday morning. Howard Hoyt 
 is to be with us, Stuart tells me. 
 
 I wonder if I may dare impose further on your 
 hospitality? There is a little Mr. Osberger from 
 Santa Monero who is going up with us a school 
 mate of Howard s in the East, I believe. I think 
 he will do very nicely in the Meet, and as he knows 
 no one at Stanford, it would be pleasant for him to 
 be with our boys. May I take the liberty of bringing 
 him with us? 
 
 With best wishes from all, 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 MARY A. LOGAN. 
 
 The half-repressed titter had become frank amuse 
 ment before Graham stopped. Shorty Oliver, with 
 deep commiseration on his face turned tantalizingly 
 toward Carson. "F-f- f- foiled ! " he muttered tragi 
 cally.
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 A frank-spoken Hall man next to Dean delivered 
 himself of a few blunt words on "cute tactics" and 
 the Theta Phi s cheeks coloured angrily. 
 
 "Popular trio that," Graham growled, shoving 
 Dean s letter back at him. "What does their ticket 
 read? Money, family, athletics"? " 
 
 "No ! brains, of course, brains ! Phi Tappa Keg 
 candidates at least all that! " Shorty glanced ap 
 preciatively at Dean. 
 
 A suspicion of that disconcerting laughter 
 twinkled in Graham s eyes. 
 
 The modesty and almost shame-facedness of the 
 Alpha Zet member in pushing his request for the 
 three coveted Preps gave the more aggressive Rowites 
 something to wonder at. The frank-spoken Hall 
 man was assailing Dean angrily. 
 
 "Look here, they re the only three men Carson 
 asked for that he got, and hang it, look at your own 
 bunch there." 
 
 "Sort of a free-for-all rushing festivity, eh, 
 Mike? " Shorty s undertone to his next-door neigh 
 bour was an audible stage whisper. "Most as good 
 as a Tan-Hell mix-up, ain t it? " 
 
 "It s my opinion," Carson blurted out frankly, 
 "that we had better put all these over-popular Preps 
 
 [53]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 up in the Hall if we want to make an athletic event 
 of the thing." 
 
 "Sky-rocket! " roared Shorty, "then I ll get Mil- 
 pitas ! " 
 
 "Look here, fellows," Dean broke in desperately, 
 "Carson wants some of that Madison bunch. We ll 
 hand over four if you ll give us the three St. John s 
 kids. Is it a go? " 
 
 A condemning silence of a half minute greeted 
 the proposal, a silence that to Dean was as discon 
 certing as anything he had ever experienced in his 
 life. He knew that in the eyes of every man on the 
 Board he was detected as an apostle of self-interest, 
 a rooter for Theta Phi first, a Stanford man only 
 when his fraternity interests had been subserved. 
 Graham s face showed his annoyance as he said de 
 cisively, "I told you before, Dean, that a big team 
 like that is not going to be split to serve your pur 
 pose or anyone else s. We will find some one to take 
 them if you won t. As to the Southern men, your 
 brother, of course, you ve got a claim to. The 
 others " 
 
 "Oh, that s all right! I abdicate, your Honour," 
 Carson broke in, heartily, "in deference to the lady." 
 
 The laugh that followed only deepened the flush 
 on Dean s face. 
 
 [54]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 "I guess Carson s right," Graham commented, 
 simply. "That letter does seem to cinch the matter. 
 Rather hogging it though, isn t it 1 ?" 
 
 "Well, we will give Mr. Osberger to any one who 
 wants him," volunteered Dean, with an assumed 
 magnanimity which elicited no reply from the rest 
 of the Board. Oliver grunted aloud and muttered 
 something about a "keen sense of humour." 
 
 Those "minor changes" which Graham had un 
 wittingly left to the discretion of his fellow-commit- 
 teemen had assumed more formidable proportions 
 than he had thought for. "Come on, fellows," he 
 remonstrated at last, with a yawn that contagiously 
 went the round of the table, "who gives a hang who 
 gets who anyway, so long as the Meet is a success 
 and we show them a good time." 
 
 The report that Dean made to his interested 
 brethren next morning in the Theta Phi smoking- 
 room as to his "haul" with the Board of Governors, 
 was greeted with noisy enthusiasm. Dean did not 
 tell them of the humiliation which his success had 
 cost him. 
 
 There only remained the meeting of the Preps. 
 
 "Be sure to attach anything worth while, old boy," 
 one of the Seniors called after him encouragingly 
 from the steps, as he started down the Row to the 
 
 [55]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 rousing twang of "Ocean of Rum" from half a dozen 
 mandolins. 
 
 Dean s figure, as it swung along past the post- 
 office, had all the alertness that a consciousness of a 
 well-groomed appearance gives. The air of the fas 
 tidious city man was unmistakably stamped upon 
 him. His features and personality showed him to be 
 well-born and cultivated, but an over-consciousness 
 of this was so evident in his every word and move 
 that he seemed out of place in the democratic atmo 
 sphere of the University. 
 
 He hailed a rig at the book-store corner with a 
 feeling of sheepishness that he could not shake off, 
 in spite of his still tingling shoulder-blades, which 
 should have reminded him of Theta Phi s hearty 
 appreciation. The thought of Carson s disinterested 
 ness the night before bothered him more than any 
 thing. 
 
 Already the avenue was busy with crowded surries 
 of excited, gesticulating Preps, declaiming on the 
 beauties of the Palm-drive and the Arboretum, half 
 falling out of the back seats in an effort to catch a 
 passing glimpse of the Mausoleum, and offering 
 fruitless but vociferous bewailings over the shattered 
 Arch and "those grand mosaics." 
 
 Interscholastic is one of the gala days in the his- 
 
 [56]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 tory of the University, when its gates are opened in 
 hearty hospitality to the hundreds of Preparatory 
 and High School youths who struggle for field 
 honours on its oval. To the college man, it is a time 
 of "sizing up" prospective material for the future 
 material that his University will be proud of. 
 
 The station at Paly was a bedlam of excitement. 
 Every bus and vehicle that the town afforded was 
 drawn up in readiness for the constantly arriving 
 Preps. 
 
 Graham, the centre of all action, swung his legs 
 imperiously from his seat on an empty baggage- 
 truck and directed operations. A dozen or more 
 upper-class officials flaunted themselves before the 
 bewildered Preps pouring off each incoming train, 
 grabbed them summarily and put the all-vital ques 
 tion, "Are you an Interscholastic ?" 
 
 It was a problem to deal with Eddie Jones from 
 Greenville, who insisted that he go straight to the 
 Delta Phi house regardless, and spurned with con 
 tempt the mere suggestion of Theta Phi. It was 
 disconcerting to a one-time track captain and the 
 huskiest man in college to be ordered by a newly 
 arrived kid from Cupertino to "take those dress-suit 
 cases to No. 53 Lasuen and be quick about it." 
 Particularly was this demoralizing to the official s 
 
 [57]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 nerves when, after consultation with his reception 
 list, he found that No. 53 Lasuen could never be the 
 ultimate destination of the imperious guest. Over 
 on the circle, the benches under the oaks were lined 
 up with them as each new train pulled in, those re 
 fractory ones, pending the decision of their cases by 
 the imperturbable Graham, while his coadjutors tore 
 their hair and swore alternately at their chief and 
 the Preps. 
 
 A soft but foreboding drizzle was in the air. The 
 dull, gray sky overhead had been broken the day 
 before by the first faint, but short-lived glimmers of 
 sunlight that had filtered through in a week, during 
 which California had experienced one of the most 
 terrific storms in her history. Bridges were down all 
 over the country, rails were washed away every place 
 along the road, and the telegraph service was de 
 moralized. The Reception Committee swore roundly 
 and computed fruitless estimates as to just when 
 such a bunch would get through. 
 
 Harry Dean did his duty, shoulder to shoulder 
 with his fellow-committeemen, but with an attitude 
 toward each newly arriving contingent of Preps 
 which said, as plainly as words, "Glad to see you. 
 H m, merely Interscholastic material, I see!" 
 
 When the Los Angeles special pulled in, just an 
 
 [58]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 hour before the Meet and several hours behind 
 scheduled time, it was evident that something more 
 than simple athletic possibilities lay dormant in the 
 sturdy frames of the trio under Mrs. Logan s 
 chaperonage. 
 
 Dean left the reception of the common herd to 
 the good graces of Graham and Carson, as he stood 
 on tiptoe, looking over the heads of the crowd that 
 had already poured off the train. The St. John s 
 contingent was no place to be seen, but down on a 
 rear platform Dean caught sight of Mrs. Logan. He 
 arrived just in time to find a great, angular-looking 
 boy, his arms laden down with luggage, clumsily try 
 ing to assist her from the train. Dean offered some 
 patronizing commonplace of thanks as he brusquely 
 relieved the boy of her bag. How such a specimen 
 as that could intrude on the gallantries of life ! The 
 washed-out, freckled face, the shock of thick, colour 
 less hair, and the suit of shop-made clothes had all 
 been taken in with an amused glance, as Dean turned 
 to open a way through the crowd for Mrs. Logan. 
 
 Oliver and Graham had rescued the three St. 
 John s men as they emerged from the smoking-car a 
 few moments before, and Dean came upon them all 
 grouped in front of the ticket window. 
 
 "Hello, Harry, old man," his brother called out 
 
 [59]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 cheerily. "Here we are. Began to think we d never 
 get through, though. Sorry we deserted you so, Mrs. 
 Logan," the boy added, "but I guess Oz was equal 
 to the occasion. Harry, I want you to meet Peter 
 Osberger one of the bunch Oz, my brother." 
 
 Dean turned, to find the crude-looking boy whose 
 courtesy to Mrs. Logan he had almost resented, 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 "Glad to know you, sir," the youngster said, 
 simply. 
 
 Dean assumed his most affable air, though the 
 friendliness taken for granted amused him highly. 
 He would not have liked to admit that anything 
 could really disarm his nonchalance, but the frank 
 enthusiasm of the three keenest prospectives who 
 had "come up" for a long time, over this gawky, 
 country product certainly left him rather non 
 plussed. 
 
 "Who s our little country cousin"?" he quizzed his 
 brother laughingly, under cover of the conversation. 
 "You surely don t expect me to introduce it up at 
 the house a Reube like that! " Dean Junior 
 looked up quickly. "You ve got another hunch 
 coming, Harry. Wait till you know him," he said, 
 with a quiet smile. 
 
 Carson, who had been getting a bunch started off 
 
 [60]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 for the Campus, sauntered over to say a few words 
 to Mrs. Logan, whom he had known in the South. 
 Hoyt was introducing him to Osberger with an un 
 mistakable note of pride in his voice. The older 
 man s hand-shake was its heartiest and put the boy 
 at his ease at once. 
 
 A sudden solution of Osberger and this impossible 
 situation broke in upon Dean, and he whistled 
 softly. 
 
 "Say, Carson," he exclaimed a moment later, in 
 a voice that was audible to every one in the group. 
 "We had several extra guests blow in last night and 
 we re crowded to the last inch. I wonder if I may 
 turn Mr. Osberger here over to your hospitality?" 
 
 Shorty Oliver, glancing up quickly, caught the 
 cornered look in the Alpha Zet s face, and grinned 
 as he whistled derisively in imitation of Dean. 
 
 Graham had a puzzled expression. "Why, how s 
 that, Dean?" he questioned. "I thought- 
 Carson silenced him with a nudge of his foot. 
 The suspicion of a contemptuous smile flitted across 
 his face as he glanced at Dean. Then he said 
 evenly, in his quiet, convincing way: "We ll be 
 more than glad to have you, Osberger. We have 
 plenty of room, as several of the men we were 
 
 [61]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 expecting haven t turned up. I am only sorry to 
 separate you from your friends." 
 
 The faces of the St. John s men were crestfallen 
 with disappointment. Howard Hoyt looked up at 
 Dean with annoyance. But he brought his teeth 
 together with a resentful little click and said noth 
 ing. Only the heartiness of Carson s attitude saved 
 Osberger from bolting then and there from a place 
 where he seemed to find himself an awkward in 
 truder. 
 
 It was Shorty Oliver who relieved the strain of 
 the situation. "Got to get up there and punch the 
 keys on this morning s dope," he volunteered, 
 irrelevantly. "Writing a sort of concise history of 
 the Interscholastic idea, you see. Lord! Graham!" 
 he laughed back from the rear seat of Uncle John s 
 surrey, "I ll bet it will be enough to make the type 
 writer stutter!" 
 
 Up at training quarters outside the crisp, new 
 cinder track, the newest arrivals were being made 
 ready for the contest on the low rubbing-tables that 
 range the length of the room. Red-"S" d football 
 men and sombreroed Seniors knelt on the floor beside 
 them, and rubbed and thumped and belaboured 
 them as though they were the very brawn and bone 
 
 [62]
 
 PREPDOM ON -PARADE 
 
 of the Varsity itself, instead of the chesty, inconse 
 quential Preps that they were. 
 
 Groups of college men gathered about at the en 
 trance to the showers and in front of the welcome 
 fireplace. The early arrivals during the last two 
 days had had time to make their own and other 
 people s possibilities known. What warming-up 
 practice on the track had not made evident, their 
 effervescent volubility provided for. And it was 
 remarkable how much speculative interest Stanford 
 men had worked up over the Meet. 
 
 There was a noisy bunch just beyond the tables 
 where Carson and a couple of Alpha Zetas knelt, 
 pommelling the life out of the train-weary Southern 
 Preps. 
 
 "It s a draw between St. John s and the Madison- 
 ites," a confident Junior volunteered, decisively. 
 "What do you say, Dean, you ve got a sample of 
 each 4 ?" 
 
 "Lying low, old man," Dean retorted, laughingly. 
 "You know where I d bank, of course." 
 
 "Say, fellows," another broke in, "you just watch 
 that little kid Osberger from Santa Monero do 
 things. He s a winner, all right." 
 
 "Oh, come off " Dean snorted contemptuously. 
 "What farm did he train on?"
 
 NOT: INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Never mind, you ll get an eye-opener, all right. 
 The kid used to go to Prep with Hoyt in the East, 
 and he says Osberger s got em all skinned in the 100 
 and the 220. He s mighty keen at a few other num 
 bers on the programme, too. It s a shame he s the 
 sole product of his school. With one other man to 
 back him, he d show em!" 
 
 "Gee he doesn t look it, I must say," was Dean s 
 parting observation. He wheeled suddenly in the 
 direction of the door and caught the eyes of Howard 
 Hoyt fixed angrily on his. Carson and the man be 
 side him looked up with a frown of annoyance, and 
 Dean, glancing to the table beyond, was not deceived 
 by the averted face of Osberger himself. He had 
 heard, of course! Well, who what was he, any 
 how 4 ? Merely one of Howard Hoyt s proteges. 
 How the deuce that young king-pin kept his hold 
 over the school down there so that every mother s 
 son of them would swear by anything he introduced, 
 was beyond him. 
 
 Outside, the drizzle sifted down with a depressing 
 steadiness of purpose. A generously large group of 
 men and women had braved the nastiness of the day 
 to do their part for the rising generation of Stan- 
 fordites. Around the oval the tall eucalyptus of the 
 Arboretum stood out gloomy and shivery against 
 
 [64]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 the low outline of distant foothills, now barely dis 
 tinguishable through the haze. Dripping umbrellas 
 dotted the bleachers, alternately aggravating the 
 patient souls who sat behind them, and pouring 
 teasing little rivulets down the backs of those in 
 front. The air was tense with an atmosphere of 
 studied and enforced politeness, relieved now and 
 then by genuine bursts of amusement as some belated 
 rooting contingent or bevy of enthusiastic Prep girls 
 stomped the length of the bleachers and seated them 
 selves ostentatiously with a flutter of pennants and a 
 lustily given yell. 
 
 One event followed another in quick succession. 
 Stuart Logan of St. John s had won the mile, a big, 
 brawny youth from Madison had carried off the half, 
 with Osberger a first in the 100 and the broad. 
 Somewhere in the ranks of the thirty-three Prep 
 teams there were bound to be developed sensational 
 "dark horses." Scattered events, that the strong 
 teams had counted as their own, had suddenly been 
 snatched off to swell the score of some insignificant 
 high school. 
 
 Not even the steady sifting down of drizzle on 
 the dark cinder track, or the shivering, rain- 
 bedraggled procession of bath-robed figures, awaiting 
 their great event in the middle oval, could dampen 
 
 [65]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the excitement that grew on the bleachers as an un 
 heard of country youth proceeded to carry off place 
 after place in the big events. The 100 and the broad 
 jump that was enough to arouse the rooting enthu 
 siasm of the unattached. A second now in the 220 ! 
 Osberger, as an individual, had become a threaten 
 ing rival to Howard Hoyt s team, while the Northern 
 contingent, prime favourites of the training-room, 
 looked to their laurels nervously and began to wilt. 
 On the steps in front of Quarters, the captain 
 of the St. John s team swung his legs over the side 
 of the platform and shivered in the half -soaked bath 
 robe he wore. Hoyt had finished his contribution 
 to the now hopelessly lost score of the South. He 
 was only waiting for the decision of the high jump 
 to know whether Ozie still stood in the running. He 
 wanted it more than anything, now that his own 
 team s chances had gone under. He could picture 
 the trio, his bunch, the keenest, classiest little bunch 
 on earth, gathering around their protege, Ozie, 
 carrying him about the rain-soaked oval, while those 
 cheering Stanford men and surprised, open-mouthed 
 prophets of Prepdom gazed on, astonished, from the 
 bleachers. Some one behind him was talking to 
 Duff, the Madison team captain. The drift of the 
 conversation floated into his ears half unconsciously. 
 
 [66]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 "You ve got to fix it, Duff. The cup hangs on it for 
 you, old man. Get Evans to block him on the farther 
 turn. You can spare Evans easy. That will leave 
 it an open field to your man and the St. John s team. 
 My brother s running, you know. It s got to be 
 either Bronson or Clar!" 
 
 "Sure," retorted Duff, "it s the only way, or the 
 little Swede has got it cinched." 
 
 Hoyt turned his head suddenly, and again his eyes 
 met those of Harry Dean as they had in the training- 
 room. He was conscious of a glare of defiance as 
 he caught the helpless look of confusion on the older 
 man s face. There was something about them at 
 war. He had felt this first at the station that morn 
 ing. It recurred to him now, stronger and with more 
 meaning, as Dean sat down encouragingly between 
 Duff and himself. 
 
 "I say, Hoyt, I ve just been talking with the 
 Madison men about the 440." 
 
 "I overheard you," Hoyt observed, tartly. 
 
 Dean s voice was pointedly conciliatory, as he 
 pushed the conversation. "What do you think 
 Clar s chances are 1 ?" he asked, suavely. "Of course, 
 St. John s all up but I d like to see the kid come in, 
 by Jove!" 
 
 [6 7 ]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Hoyt looked levelly across at Dean. "I d forget 
 it if I were you," he observed, laconically. 
 
 "Oh, indeed, sonny!" was all that the stupefied 
 Dean could find utterance for, as he got up and 
 walked slowly away with that disconcerted feeling 
 strong on him again a sort of moral ostracism 
 levied against him by the frank disapproval of a 
 young Prep kid. 
 
 Hoyt sat silent for a moment with his swinging 
 feet hung limp, as if in sheer amazement at the 
 audacity of his retort. Over on the track, the lithe 
 figures of Dean Junior and Stuart Logan swung 
 around the turn leisurely as they warmed up for the 
 great event. 
 
 In the middle of the oval, Carson, the Alpha Zeta, 
 stood with a group of newspaper men watching the 
 jumping. Hoyt walked hurriedly over to the fence 
 and beckoned to him. 
 
 "Say, Carson," he stammered bluntly, "I m going 
 to ask a favour of you. I am going to ask you to 
 take Logan and Clar Dean and me in for tonight, if 
 you can fix us up. We ll sleep any old place, only 
 let us come. You said this morning that you had 
 room, or I wouldn t ask." 
 
 Carson regarded the boy in blank amazement. 
 
 "Sure, I know what I m doing. I ll explain it all 
 
 [68]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 tomorrow," the other reassured him laughingly, as 
 he ran off down the fence to meet Logan and Dean 
 on the home lap and put them wise. 
 
 "There s nothing to do," Hoyt explained, as he 
 repeated the gist of Harry Dean s proposal, "except 
 to beat em at their own game. We can t let Oz 
 lose, that s all." 
 
 "We might put it up to Graham or Carson," 
 Logan suggested as a solution, "they re square." 
 But the look on Dean Junior s face suddenly re 
 minded him. 
 
 "That s so," he blurted, apologetically, "we can t 
 show it up, can we 1 ? They have us cinched there!" 
 
 "Look here," insisted Hoyt, eagerly, "we ll fix it 
 so that the Madison man won t have an unfair 
 handicap. You two can block just enough to give 
 Oz a clean fight for the finish. It s hard on you, 
 Clar, old boy," Hoyt slipped his arm affectionately 
 over Dean Junior s shoulder. "You d a good fight 
 ing chance, you know." 
 
 "What s the odds now the Meet s gone," the 
 other retorted. "I couldn t see Oz lose now. He s 
 got an awful sourball on Stanford already, and 
 besides, you see, it s up to me to make good to him," 
 he finished, bitterly. 
 
 The delight with which Hoyt heard the decision
 
 N0<? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 of the high jump was destined to ebb and grow faint 
 as the men in the 440 came on their marks, disclosing 
 Osberger, tense and restrained, but with "do or die" 
 in his set jaw, in fourth position, with the Madison 
 man at the pole. 
 
 The bleachers were on their feet. Osberger, the 
 lonely little star of a far-off rural high school, had 
 stormed the -prejudices of every man and woman of 
 them. 
 
 It was a good fight. Osberger s three firsts and a 
 second had netted him 18, with the Madison team 
 just a point ahead of him, the St. John s men lost 
 beyond retrieve, and a very sparse sprinkling of odd 
 events among the thirty or more other schools repre 
 sented. It had been the combined efforts of a team 
 of ten against the single fight that could be put up 
 by one determined, only half credulously received 
 boy. 
 
 Hoyt forgot St. John s, forgot personal defeat, 
 everything, as the pistol shot sounded and the men 
 were off. 
 
 Logan had started forward with a mad sprint that 
 carried him six feet in the lead of Bronson and let 
 him fall into first. The Madison men were dazed 
 and alarmed at such tactics from Stuart Logan 
 tactics at variance with all sane judgment in the 440. 
 
 [70]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 But they came up on him as fast as they could, while 
 Osberger, biding his time but worried, kept up an 
 even run behind them. Dean Junior was at it now, 
 mad and furious, throwing all his strength into one 
 sprint, which carried him around the two Madison 
 men. He had signalled Osberger, as he passed him, 
 to come up. The Madison men were plainly dis 
 heartened, and Osberger, with the madness of "now 
 or never," closed up the gap between. Hoyt held 
 his breath. It was a losing game, with Osberger 
 crowded to the outside that way. 
 
 Suddenly, Logan, who had tenaciously held his 
 own on the inside, slowed down almost impercepti 
 bly, and Bronson, on whom Madison had banked its 
 hopes, was forced to drop back to avoid fouling. So 
 completely was he thrown out of his stride that he 
 almost came to a standstill. As a factor in the 440 
 his usefulness was over. 
 
 Another sprint carried Dean to the inside just 
 ahead of Logan. They were running along now 
 steadily, leading Bronson. Ozie and the other 
 Madison-ites had an open field. Down the home 
 stretch they swung. Hoyt closed his eyes fearfully. 
 He could not have seen at that distance that Osberger 
 broke the tape just a chest in front of the other man. 
 
 [71]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 But the din of the bleachers told him what he wanted 
 to know. He was down the steps in an instant. 
 
 The identity of insignificant, rural Santa Monero 
 had swallowed up for the moment all the prestige 
 and Southerly pride with which St. John s was wont 
 to carry itself. Foremost among the madly enthu 
 siastic, Dean and Stuart Logan, with Hoyt s be 
 draggled, bath-robed figure clinging like mad to the 
 outskirts, yelling vociferously, without purpose or 
 sanity, lifted Peter Osberger high on their shoulders 
 and carried him to the training quarters. 
 
 A crowd of officials and upper-classmen were 
 there to help the Preps dress. There was little over 
 an hour for dinner if the Encina high jinks and the 
 presentation came off on time. Excitement and the 
 volubility of the aftermath made the room buzz. 
 Osberger was in a state of heavenly elation which 
 recognized neither sound nor feeling. He tried to 
 prove appreciative of the countless attentions levelled 
 at him, but his powers were utterly inadequate. 
 
 "Where s Carson? Let s find him and get out of 
 this!" he urged, as Hoyt and he found their exit 
 from the dressing-room blocked half way across the 
 hall. "I want to understand just what happened, old 
 man. Let s get where we can talk." 
 
 Hoyt smiled with the condescension of absolute 
 
 [72]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 satisfaction. "We are all booked for the Alpha Zet 
 house tonight, Oz, Clar, Logan, and I, too," he 
 commented simply. 
 
 The rest of the bunch was herded together, at 
 tached triumphantly by a couple of Carson s fra 
 ternity brothers at hand, and headed off for the Row. 
 
 Carson decently gave them the smoking-room after 
 dinner, on Hoyt s intimation that there was some 
 thing doing. The door closed on a torrent of in 
 dignation, of declamation, and glorification let loose. 
 Osberger found himself the dazed centre of it all, 
 and tried to deduct something comprehensible from 
 the half-intelligible exclamations around him. 
 
 "I knew it this morning when they were so mean 
 about putting Oz up the muckers!" Hoyt com 
 mented, hotly. 
 
 "Well, anyhow, they didn t have to butt in to 
 help Bronson s dirty little game. We fooled em at 
 it, though. Gol darn em ! " Logan puffed at his 
 cigarette with vicious satisfaction. "Sorry for you, 
 Clar, old man, but it s up to us!" 
 
 "Don t mind me, fellows. Theta Phi isn t pre 
 scribed wholesale, you know. I m not rooting their 
 tactics." 
 
 Bit by bit Osberger gathered that he, the despised 
 of a great unknown Prepdom, had been nefariously, 
 
 [73]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 ignominiously dealt with, and that the vengeance of 
 these, his champions, was now sworn to, wrathfully 
 and deliberately, in his presence. 
 
 Over in the Hall, the speech of his life was before 
 him in front of that critical crowd of college men. 
 
 "Hand it out to them, Oz, you know the dope! 
 Just think of us and forget the mob," Hoyt admon 
 ished hopefully a half hour later, as Osberger, a 
 great pride in his heart, but consumed with a panicky 
 fear, elbowed his way nervously across the long 
 Encina reading-room to the big table from which 
 Graham had made his presentation speech. 
 
 Just in front of him, Osberger caught the friendly 
 faces of a bunch of the Alpha Zeta men. The din 
 of applause for this "kid o wonders," as Graham 
 himself had christened him, echoed deafeningly 
 through the Hall. Far back near the fireplace, 
 underneath the big Stanford pennant and the historic 
 cowbell, the eyes of Hoyt, of Dean, and of Logan 
 smiled back at him confidently. A new sense of 
 dignity and self-possession threw a dominating note 
 into his voice, as words of appreciation came to him. 
 He was conscious of having carried the occasion 
 well. "Sky-rockets" and hoarse shouts of approval 
 rang through the room. Again he was lifted high 
 
 [74]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 on the shoulders of the bunch and carried forth in 
 triumph. 
 
 "Where the deuce are you fellows going*?" Harry 
 Dean was demanding of the imperturbable Clar. 
 "We want you all over at the House for the smoker, 
 you know, as soon as the rest of the dope is dealt out 
 here. And say, kid, bring young Osberger along, if 
 you like." 
 
 His brother did not stop long enough to reply. 
 "We re going back now to say how to Mrs. Logan 
 for a minute, but we won t be with you tonight, 
 Harry," he called over his shoulder. 
 
 Up in Carson s room at the Alpha Zeta house 
 Osberger and the trio held jovial revelry among the 
 relics of bygone Stanford men, and listened to Alpha 
 Zet s oldest inhabitant tell of the grand, old pioneer 
 days days when even Interscholastics had never 
 been heard of. 
 
 Graham and Oliver with a noisy bunch of Hall 
 men had blown in after the high jinks, and lay 
 sprawled about on the floor cushions or sat with 
 their feet perched comfortably on Carson s study 
 table, while Osberger, his washed-out face flushed 
 with excitement, knew that he had at last come into 
 his own. He was being drawn out to talk of himself, 
 of Hoyt s and his own earlier Prep days in the East 
 
 [75]
 
 N0<f INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 even of Santa Monero and the fellows down there. 
 He found himself telling them with his old feeling 
 of enthusiasm how eagerly he was waiting for next 
 fall, when he and the Hoyts and Dean were to come 
 up as Freshmen together. 
 
 And Graham and Carson, yarning on anew, with 
 Shorty s irrepressible comments enlivening all, re 
 galed the fascinated Preps with all those incidents 
 and struggles that make the Stanford spirit a thing 
 to conjure with. 
 
 Stowed away for the night, the occupants of two 
 cots and a floor bunk in Carson s room held counsel 
 together until long after the first contingents from 
 dispersed "busts" began to make the Campus air 
 resound with their homeward ballads. 
 
 "Fellows, there s no place like it." Osberger s 
 tone had caught the ring of the older men s voices. 
 "And this morning I was almost a quitter," he 
 added, slowly, "think of it just because " 
 
 "Because of a few muckers," Dean Junior 
 finished with set lips. 
 
 Hoyt leaned over to Logan on the floor bunk be 
 side him. "Gee, kid, but I m glad he didn t get on 
 to the blocking game," he whispered, under his 
 breath. Aloud he said: "And, Oz, I bet they re 
 counting us Theta Phi cinches. But we ll hang 
 
 [76]
 
 PREPDOM ON PARADE 
 
 together tight, old man, next fall, and it won t be 
 that!" 
 
 "Graham and Carson won t be here then, will 
 they*?" Dean spoke ruefully, and there was silence 
 in the room for a moment. 
 
 "No," repeated Osberger, slowly, "they won t be 
 here, but the farm s full of more like them." There 
 was a note of stout conviction in his voice, for he 
 was recalling the Encina reception and the hearty 
 hand-clasps of a hundred enthusiastic men. 
 
 "You bet it is," came in unison from the other 
 three. 
 
 "There s no place like it," Hoyt reiterated, softly. 
 Whereupon, having delivered himself summarily of 
 the consensus of the combine, the strains of "One 
 Day a Freshman" floated in unheeded upon a silent 
 room, wherein the brawn of the rising generation 
 had laid itself down at peace with a red-hued world. 
 
 [ 77 1
 
 .Arrogance of 
 
 Secon6
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF THE SECOND 
 YEAR 
 
 In a heated discussion on evolution, Peter 
 had once made the remark that there was at 
 least one example which she could cite of life 
 beginning with equal possibilities, and that was 
 in the way of furniture in a room at Roble. 
 Kate Monroe, as she deposited her sketching kit be 
 tween the couch and burlaped wardrobe, and took 
 in anew the transformation effected by her room 
 mate, went a step farther and reflected wearily that 
 the results of the ingenuity of a hundred or more 
 girls held a marked sameness and mediocrity. She 
 turned to the window, and stared dreamily across 
 the brown fields to the hazy blue silhouette of the 
 ridge with its top line of redwoods notching the sun 
 set sky. 
 
 In a room across the angle of the building, Peter, 
 perched on a study table, gossiping with Lucile 
 Hunter, looked over at the girl in the window. "I 
 can t understand that roommate of yours, Lucile. 
 Just look at her I can t say that I approve of 
 dreaming." As an afterthought, Peter added: "Do 
 
 [81]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 you suppose she s in love*?" She turned inquiringly 
 to the other girl. 
 
 "Don t ask me." Lucile, half-sunk in the cushions 
 on the couch, looked the picture of contentment. 
 
 "You ve a new pennant on the wall 1 ?" Peter re 
 marked, her eyes still on the room across the way. 
 
 "Will sent it to me from Yale isn t it a dandy ^ 
 I had to move Kate s Burne-Jones over a bit to make 
 room for it. She won t like that very well but 
 she ll never say anything." 
 
 "Doesn t she appreciate the aesthetics of a pen 
 nant? 
 
 Lucile put another cushion back of her head before 
 replying. "She doesn t approve of truck on the walls 
 snaps, mementoes, and all that s college. Don t 
 you think it makes you remember your good times? 
 I know she abhors my prized basket-ball with the 
 red ribbons I carried that to a slogan. You should 
 have seen that rally. They ve never had another in 
 Roble like it." 
 
 Peter was studying Kate s face with interest. 
 "Looks kind of depressed, doesn t she 1 ?" 
 
 "I ve roomed with that girl ever since our Fresh 
 man year, and don t know her any better than you 
 do, Peter." 
 
 [82]
 
 ARROGANCE OF 3HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 "I call her Miss Monroe," Peter replied, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 "That s just it, everybody does," the other an 
 swered, with some show of animation. It seemed 
 to be a favourite topic with Lucile when once started, 
 for she continued: "I don t know what there is 
 about that girl, but I admire her like everything. 
 She never mixes in with us, or does anything 
 doesn t even tell how crazy she is over drawing. I ve 
 talked to her about athletics " 
 
 "Trust you for that," Peter interrupted. 
 
 The other s voice was serious and half -complain 
 ing. "We need new material, and she s tall and 
 likes exercise. She s too dandy, anyway, to get her 
 sheepskin unknown but what are you going to do 
 when a person s so reserved that she doesn t even 
 tell you the name of her kid brother 4 ?" 
 
 "She startled the community the other night, 
 though." 
 
 "How s that?" Lucile looked at Peter s mis 
 chievous face suspiciously. 
 
 "Didn t you see her at the reception, and she 
 helped decorate, too*?" 
 
 "You don t mean to say! Kate Monroe! I 
 don t believe it." 
 
 "We ll change the subject, then, until Frances 
 
 [83]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 comes home. Are the solemn six going to let us 
 have the dance within a month ? I abominate 
 
 dances, but that s no matter " 
 
 Kate Monroe, in the room across the way, un 
 conscious of being watched or discussed, made no 
 attempt to cover her mood. She had received a 
 mind-awakening jolt that afternoon, and it was hard 
 to readjust herself. The art class, under Mr. Nor 
 ton, had scattered over the oak-dotted field that lies 
 toward the Campus below Lagunita. They were 
 drawing the trees where a path slipped down the 
 hill and lost itself among them. Kate had always 
 loved that bit of landscape, even as much as the 
 evening shadows on the lake. She had the childish 
 feeling that if she were to walk down the path to 
 the end she would be in a land of mystic unreality 
 and strange dreaminess. So she had stooped over 
 her board, crayon in hand, full of a craving for ex 
 pression. She had been working two hours, when 
 Mr. Norton startled her. His every word was dis 
 tinct in her mind. "Miss Monroe, you are not get 
 ting any feeling into that drawing. Your lines are 
 too hard and detached. Go over and look at Miss 
 Hunter s you will understand then what I mean." 
 Tearing up the sheet, she had begun again with tears 
 in her eyes. How was it that Lucile Hunter, so 
 
 [84]
 
 <THE ARROGANCE OF ?HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 commonplace in sentiment, so devoid of taste as to 
 place a Gibson girl beside a Rossetti, and who toler 
 ated the gaudiness of stamped cushions, could make 
 one feel the allurement of that small path meander 
 ing among the trees ? 
 
 Kate Monroe had come to college as a concession 
 to the traditions of her family. If she had followed 
 her own inclinations, she would have gone to Hop 
 kins Institute in the city, and later to Paris. In 
 stead, she made a compromise between an A. B. and 
 art, and came to Stanford. 
 
 Like all Freshmen she had carefully read the 
 residence section of the Register, with the result that 
 she found herself, after due formalities, unpacking 
 her belongings in Room 24, Roble, with her room 
 mate performing a like operation near the opposite 
 wall. Lucile was voluble and enthusiastic, and 
 called her by her first name without apology. 
 
 "Did you bring much stuff for the room ?" she 
 asked, looking at the nervous, slender hand of the 
 other girl as she rested a picture on the radiator. 
 
 "Some curtains, a few cushions, and some 
 favourite pictures," the other answered, slowly. 
 
 "That s good. I ve enough for the room." 
 
 Kate had glanced at the table piled high with 
 nondescript articles, whose chief boast seemed 
 
 [85]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 gaudiness of color, and felt consciously depressed. 
 Later her Monna Lisa, carefully hung for the light, 
 had, for the sake of community interest, been 
 pushed aside for a souvenir poster. Although 
 Lucile Hunter told her that she was an art 
 major and hoped to continue the work beyond col 
 lege, Kate had carefully avoided all mention of the 
 subject in the three years of their acquaintance. 
 She had deemed it sacrilege to do so, and as a result 
 covered her devouring ambition with a hard shell 
 of reserve, and only unburdened her mind by long 
 tramps over the hills and along the creek beds. 
 
 Kate had looked to college as a mecca of erudi 
 tion, of grave faces, and hushed voices, with prob 
 ably a few exceptions, who would be frowned into 
 silence or off the Campus by public opinion. The 
 truth came as a severe shock the irresponsibility 
 of the undergraduate, the laughter, the small talk, 
 the wasting of time, and the almost conspicuous 
 avoidance of the serious. With her analytical mind, 
 she drew apart and studied the girls in the Hall, 
 resorting to scientific instead of human methods, 
 and her deductions were pessimistic. They were 
 confirmed as she watched the girls, listened to the 
 laughter and jollying of the dinner hour, and en 
 dured the slangy conversations that took place in the 
 
 [86]
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF fHE SECOND TEAR 
 
 Hall afterwards. It seemed as if years separated 
 her from them; that she was the sole exception in 
 this medley of the care-free, the childish, and the 
 thoughtless. Yet she felt no self-pity because of 
 her isolation. They were so pathetically oblivious 
 of the burden of the future. 
 
 While in this state of mind, Kate had been asked 
 to a "feed" given by some of the Seniors on the 
 fourth floor. She was considerably astonished to 
 discover the intimacy which existed between Lucile 
 and the girls. She herself barely knew them. Kate 
 had always been with older people, and the famil 
 iarity of the blunt, personal twits of the girls 
 seemed unendurably rude to her, and their talk was 
 bewildering, as it became now trivial and then 
 again ludicrously serious when it turned to Hall or 
 undergraduate affairs. 
 
 After that, her pity turned to scorn. She as 
 sumed a bearing of courteous and reserved aloofness, 
 for had not the girls, from Seniors down, proved 
 themselves utterly shallow and unworthy of a culti 
 vated acquaintance ? From that time, Kate spent 
 her entire days studying or sketching and her even 
 ings delving in all manner of books in the Library. 
 Her week-ends were given over to lonely walks.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 There was not a nook in the hills for miles with 
 which she was not familiar. 
 
 The girl turned restlessly from the window and 
 picked up the first book that came to her hand, a 
 volume of Browning, hoping thus to thrust away 
 the depressing thoughts that crowded her brain. 
 She glanced down the pages casually, read a section 
 of "Saul," hastily covered up "Andrea Del Sarto," 
 and finally caught some lines that made her hesi 
 tate, lay down the book, and gaze out of the window 
 again. 
 
 "Landscape and sea-piece, down to flowers and fruit 
 
 And who shall question that she knows them all 
 
 In better semblance than the things outside? 
 
 Yet bring into the silent gallery 
 
 Some live thing to contrast in breath and blood, 
 
 Some lion, with the painted lion there 
 
 You think she ll understand composedly?" 
 
 Kate repeated the last words inquiringly, "You 
 think she ll understand composedly?" Yes, she had 
 been slowly understanding for three months. She 
 could plainly interpret herself now. At first, when 
 she found that her judgments of the life around her 
 did not seem as solid as formerly, and that even her 
 opinions were distinctly irresolute at times, she laid 
 it to her wearying of her life of isolation, and to a 
 
 [88]
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF THE SECOND TEAR 
 
 weak desire for companionship. She wondered 
 hazily if it might not have been the effect of two 
 and a half years of college atmosphere. At one 
 time she had considered herself above environment, 
 but perhaps she was more like the people around 
 her than she thought. Kate was astonished to find 
 herself almost relishing the idea of being one among 
 many. 
 
 Browning had expressed it, "Some live thing to 
 contrast some lion with the painted lion there." 
 Kate felt almost grateful that her eyes had been 
 opening to the contrast of late she was wearied of 
 gazing only at the painting with all its crudities. 
 Finally, she had heard the beat of the human heart. 
 Now she was searching for the path again, having 
 erred as well as the others. She had found the 
 direction to it in the last few months. The expres 
 sion in her eyes changed at the thought. 
 
 Kate loved to trace cause and effect. One incident 
 was the most distinct in her mind, for it had marked 
 the turning point in her attitude. It happened 
 when Lucile Hunter received sad news. Kate had 
 stood by helpless, while the same girls whom she 
 looked upon as shallow, had shown a depth of sym 
 pathy, friendship, and even of thought, that made 
 her feel as gray and cold as a stone pinnacle.
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Then there was Elsie Gunn, and a dozen others 
 of whom she could think, who seemed so care-free, 
 and yet whose burdens made her feel self-centered, 
 egotistical. Elsie was going through college in 
 three years. How taken aback she had been on first 
 learning of the struggles which were glossed over 
 with the reserve of happy-go-lucky fellowship! 
 
 She smiled weakly, as she thought of her first at 
 tempt at friendliness with the girls. She had felt 
 so timid and ill-at-ease when she joined a group by 
 the fireplace one evening, and caught Margaret 
 Sears s glance of scrutiny. Margaret had saved the 
 day for her, and she felt that she had made a begin 
 ning. She wondered now why she had never before 
 noticed Margaret, especially her terseness and 
 originality. She would like to call her "Peter," as 
 the others did. 
 
 And the Roble reception she drew a deep breath. 
 The fun of driving after greens, perched with Peter 
 on the end of a delivery wagon! She and Edna 
 Blythe had almost toppled off the seat in reaching 
 for pepper-branches by the creek in Palo Alto. She 
 had really felt exuberantly youthful. 
 
 She smiled again as she remembered her first col 
 lege reception that same day she had made so 
 
 [90]
 
 <?HE ARROGANCE OF ^HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 many stupid blunders; and how assiduously she had 
 read the "Daily" since! 
 
 "This is your first year here?" asked a man who 
 faithfully attended all receptions. 
 
 "I am a Senior." 
 
 "Oh!" An embarrassing silence followed. 
 
 "I see that your basket-ball team is going to play 
 Berkeley next week. Do you expect to win?" asked 
 another. 
 
 She made some feeble reply, and he continued: 
 "A husky squad has turned out for football practice 
 this year. Did you ever see any one punt like Jack 
 Woods?" 
 
 She evaded the question with, "You seem much 
 interested in football." 
 
 The man looked at her questioningly, and Peter 
 informed her a moment later that he had saved the 
 intercollegiate score of the previous year. 
 
 Kate s face saddened again, as she came back to 
 the present. After all, she had made a very small 
 beginning. In four months she would graduate, 
 and what could she look back to? Buildings, hills, 
 some good work, failure in her ambition, and not one 
 friend who would regret her, not one cordial hand- 
 grasp in the years to come. She gazed solemnly at 
 
 [91]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the dusk that was creeping over the country, and 
 was only startled to reality by Peter s entrance. 
 
 "I have just a minute, Miss Monroe, as I am due 
 at the nominating committee for Roble officers." 
 
 "Won t you sit down*?" Kate interposed. 
 
 "No, thank you." Peter always found it easier 
 to speak when standing. "I have to be abrupt. A 
 number of us have realized what a dandy girl you 
 are, and we want you to consent to run for the 
 Presidency of the Roble Club. I can nominate you, 
 and we are pretty sure of having you win there 
 are so many in favour of you." 
 
 Kate gasped. The proposition had come like the 
 surprise of a dash of cold water. "Why, no one 
 knows me in the Hall. I wouldn t know what to 
 do and and, Miss Sears, there are so many 
 popular and prominent girls. There s there s 
 Lucile Hunter, for one, and Miss Jones, and Miss 
 Calkins." 
 
 Peter shook her head emphatically. "We want 
 you, Kate Monroe. You think we don t know you, 
 but we ve wanted to for a long time, and you 
 wouldn t let us. I tell you, we were delighted with 
 your interest in the reception the other night." 
 
 Kate flushed, both embarrassed and pleased. She 
 knew that this was one of the big honours conferred 
 
 [92]
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF THE SECOND TEAR 
 
 by the Hall, and was a chance not to be scoffed at. 
 It would give her the opportunity, in all probability, 
 of "making good" for her three wasted years. She 
 was surprised at her boldness in thinking of accept 
 ing it. 
 
 "It isn t forward, is it 4 ?" she asked herself, "when 
 they consider me worthy of the place and want me 
 to run." She added, aloud, "And I never imagined 
 that the girls cared for me ! " 
 
 "Then you ll run?" expectantly. 
 
 "Yes," hesitatingly. 
 
 Peter made a gleeful bound for the door. "I m 
 so glad, Kate." 
 
 Kate felt distinctly pleased that Peter should 
 have used her first name. 
 
 Twenty minutes later, Peter chuckled to herself 
 as she dashed downstairs and put up the list of 
 nominations on the bulletin-board outside the dining- 
 room. Then she stood back, her head on one side, 
 and looked at it approvingly. "For President: 
 Kate Monroe, Helen Calkins." Peter chuckled 
 again. 
 
 "See here, Peter," a remonstrating hand was laid 
 on her shoulder. Peter was sure that there was an 
 inclination to shake her, and she turned around with 
 an inquiring look. 
 
 [93]
 
 NOT: INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Well?" 
 
 Frances Jones was the only one of the "solemn 
 six" who did not usually live up to the adjective 
 assigned by Peter to the ruling clique. But she was 
 now the impersonation of the "six" as she looked at 
 Peter with firmly drawn lips. 
 
 "Well?" Peter asked again. 
 
 "Now don t play Miss Innocence with me, Mar 
 garet Sears. It s not the first time that we have 
 come up against your practical jokes or those of 
 your classmates of the fourth floor." Frances s voice 
 was distinctly irritated. 
 
 "Well?" Peter repeated, calmly. 
 
 "Don t you know that two Presidents haven t 
 been nominated for years it s against all tradition. 
 The Hall always has and I think it can still 
 abide by the choice that we make without the inter 
 ference of underclassmen." 
 
 "Do you mean the choice of the ruling six?" 
 Peter s expression was all innocence. 
 
 The other continued hurriedly. "We don t want 
 politics dividing the Hall it causes too much feel 
 ing. Just look at Encina. And what we want to 
 stand for here is good spirit and peace." 
 
 "We prefer to rusticate, I understand." 
 
 [94]
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF ?HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 "Roble should be a haven from the turmoil of 
 the Quad." Frances became pedantic. 
 
 "And we re the ships that pass to the haven 
 under the hill? Don t worry on that score, Frances. 
 Our care-free atmosphere is proverbial on the Row. 
 Elizabeth Warner says it drives her wild to come 
 here and find the girls playing around or reading 
 magazines. On the Row it s either studying or 
 queening or company to dinner. If we got a jolt 
 once in a while we would appreciate the simple life 
 a little better, perhaps." 
 
 Frances changed her tack. "Peter, it was mighty 
 unkind of you to nominate that inconspicuous girl. 
 Why, Helen Calkins will defeat her terribly and 
 it will only hurt the girl s feelings. It s really cruel, 
 Peter, for I imagine that Kate Monroe is very sen 
 sitive." 
 
 Peter did not flinch under this unexpected turn, 
 as Frances had hoped, and her voice was grave when 
 she replied: "I m not a believer in precedent, and 
 I m an out and out socialist. I believe in equal 
 division of power not in a Senior aristocracy, with 
 the rest of us under its thumbs. Now you have it, 
 Frances, that s my creed. I was relieving the popu 
 lace of a slate and giving them a choice." She 
 pointed at the list of nominations. 
 
 [95]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 There was a puzzled expression on Frances s face. 
 "You re one big bluff, Peter." In spite of herself, 
 she could not help smiling at the assumed, injured 
 droop of Peter s mouth. 
 
 "Peter, I m waiting," an exasperated voice rang 
 down three flights of stairs. 
 
 Peter moved over to the bannister and looked up. 
 "Coming, Edna." 
 
 "Another one of the same stamp, Peter," Frances 
 remarked ironically. 
 
 "Oh, we re getting ready for our Senior year," 
 Peter retorted over her shoulder, as she ran up the 
 stairs. "We ve decided to be called the giddy 
 six. " 
 
 That night, had the Seniors been observant, they 
 would have discovered that not one Sophomore was 
 to be seen in the corridors or rooms. And had 
 Frances Jones, or any one of the six, chanced to go 
 up on the fourth floor at about half-past eight, and 
 condescended to listen at the door of Room 45, 
 amicably shared by Peter and Edna Blythe, she 
 would have heard much that was edifying. 
 
 Sophomores were packed into the room like sar 
 dines. There were forty of them, and they hung on 
 the edges of the couches and took up a good portion 
 of the floor space. Peter had them well trained 
 
 [96]
 
 <?HE ARROGANCE OF $HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 from previous meetings, as nothing beyond a droning 
 murmur came from the closed door into the corridor. 
 
 "We be socialists, we be," a high-pitched voice 
 rasped out from the corner. 
 
 "Down with the aristocracy down with the 
 Seniors down with the solemn six," promptly 
 responded a dozen or so, in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 All talked under their breath, until the same 
 harsh voice cried, "Give the yell." 
 
 "Rah, Rah, Rah! We re Peterites, Peterites, 
 Peter-ites, Rah-h ! " came in subdued tones from the 
 room. 
 
 "Speech !" cried a lone voice. 
 
 "Speech!" repeated the others. 
 
 Peter slipped off the table, stretched her diminu 
 tive height, and swelled her chest. "Comrades of 
 Roble, miserere" (subdued cheers and, "Stand on 
 the table! Can t see you!") "Honestly, girls," 
 Peter suddenly assumed the conversational tone, "I 
 can t get up on the table, my head will bump the 
 chandelier." 
 
 "Stand on the table," came the peremptory com 
 mand. 
 
 There was a scuffle before Peter continued from 
 her position of vantage. "We are in the zenith of 
 our power and the time has come to act. The 
 
 [ 97]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 domineering six have gone to the limit of their 
 power. They have tried to force a straight slate, 
 headed by the assumptive Helen Calkins, prime 
 member of their solemn clique, down the throat of 
 the heel-crushed Hall. But the time will come when 
 the serpent turns and bites." (Snake hisses on 
 every side. Peter nodded her head approvingly, 
 then struck a dramatic posture.) "Am I a dog, that 
 this tyranny should be over me? Then beware my 
 fangs. I ll have my bond, I ll have my pound of 
 flesh. I ll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, to 
 shake the head, relent and sigh, and yield to Senior 
 intercessors. I will have my pound of flesh." (The 
 room snickered gleefully, "Go on, Peter.") "Fate, 
 through me, has placed the Seniors in our hands. 
 We will crush the arrogance of the six into the dust 
 we will flaunt the independence of the Hall." 
 ("That s right," from the room.) "We will make 
 their defeat ignominious. Said I to myself, I hold 
 the little finger of fate, meaning the nominating 
 committee, and here s my chance to put it on the six 
 solemn heads that sagely wag, and methinks I ll put 
 it good and heavy, me and my comrades." (A mur 
 mur of approval.) "So I nominated Miss Kate 
 Monroe, save the mark, she s the incognito of the 
 Hall. She ll make an impression on the Freshmen. 
 
 [98]
 
 <fHE ARROGANCE OF THE SECOND TEAR 
 
 Avaunt with Helen Calkins s freckled face. The 
 comrades are one. Does it please the assemblage ?" 
 
 There was a subdued clapping of hands, the as 
 sembled comrades rolled their eyes around at each 
 other mischievously, and the harsh voice in the 
 corner rasped out, "You re too clever to live, Peter." 
 
 "Rah, Rah, we re Peterites!" responded the 
 room. 
 
 Peter made a low bow. "Comrades of Roble, I 
 appreciate your confidence. I proceed to instructions 
 demean yourselves as heretofore put not the 
 Seniors wise canvass no upperclassmen." Peter 
 dropped to the conversational. "If we get twenty 
 of the thirty Freshmen, we have a good margin on 
 a majority. The Seniors won t canvass it s 
 against tradition. Pass this bunch of slips around, 
 Edna. You are to put down your names (oh, shades 
 of Professor Nicholson!) and two Freshmen with 
 whom your are most intimate and don t get excited 
 about it." 
 
 Peter dropped down to her original seat on the 
 edge of the table. There was a buzz of whispered 
 comments and calls for pencils. Peter checked off 
 the Freshmen as the slips came back, and handed 
 back twenty-nine of them to the girls. "Doesn t any 
 
 [99]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 one know Alice Wesley is she another Kate 
 Monroe 1 ?" 
 
 In the two days that followed, the Hall came to 
 approve and even to applaud Peter s choice. There 
 was one girl who was not wholly surprised at the 
 sudden wave of popularity that swept Kate toward 
 the election. Soon after the meeting on the fourth 
 floor, she had gathered up two or three members of 
 the Sophomore clique and had sailed into Kate 
 Monroe s room in a spirit of dare-deviltry. They 
 expected to remain for a few minutes and glean 
 some choice bits to carry back to an appreciative 
 few. Instead, they stayed until the lights dipped 
 and discussed many subjects. They came away with 
 a feeling of sheepish admiration for the girl who 
 accepted the favour of the Hall with such naive sim 
 plicity. "She s a new species in Roble, a discovery!" 
 Edna circulated the report through the Hall. "And 
 she s going to take the place by storm." 
 
 "Margaret," Kate said, stopping Peter the day of 
 the election, as the latter was hurrying past her on 
 the way to lunch, "you re the best friend I have at 
 college. I don t know how to thank you. Do you 
 realize that you have readjusted my life here for me*? 
 I wanted to know the girls and get into the spirit 
 
 [ 100 1
 
 ?HE ARROGANCE OF ?HE SECOND TEAR 
 
 of the Hall, but I was too timid, somehow. You ve 
 certainly proved my good fairy 
 
 Peter s forehead puckered painfully. "I m 
 awfully glad, Kate." She spoke weakly. 
 
 "And I was wondering if you wouldn t like to 
 go to the fern glen I told you of, tomorrow after 
 noon? 
 
 "I should love to." Peter surmised that it was 
 probably the first invitation of the kind that Kate 
 had ever given at college. 
 
 Later, when Peter refused Edna Blythe s invita 
 tion to "go down to Paly," Edna turned on her in 
 surprise. "What s the matter with you, Peter 1 ? 
 You ve got an awful mood on, and everything is 
 going Kate s way, too. Talk about putting it on the 
 Seniors!" She laughed, gleefully. "Helen Calkins 
 is so sore that she wants to withdraw, and the six 
 won t let her. They are scurrying around canvassing 
 this afternoon." 
 
 But even that information did not bring a smile 
 from Peter. "I m going to the Library," she said. 
 The Library and unheard-of volumes were Peter s 
 recourse from a depressed state of mind. 
 
 In the evening Kate Monroe was the center of a 
 congratulatory crowd that blocked the corridor in 
 front of the Roble parlors, and scattered down the 
 
 [101]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 stairway in groups of two and three. She had been 
 elected by a large majority, and the applause on the 
 reading of the returns had been deafening. Peter 
 stood near her, hesitatingly. One by one the 
 Sophomores left for the top floor and Room 45. 
 
 Kate Monroe, on seeing Peter, turned to her 
 gratefully, but Frances Jones stepped in ahead of 
 her. "Let me congratulate you Sophs on the way 
 you have put it on us Seniors in the election." Her 
 voice was distinct and scornful. Peter merely 
 shrugged her shoulders and turned away. 
 
 "What did you mean by that, Frances?" a curious 
 voice asked. 
 
 Kate hesitated, and listened to the response. 
 With it all the brightness left her face. 
 
 "Peter and the Sophs have a spite against Helen 
 
 Calkins, so they chose an inconspicuous 
 
 Frances stopped, embarrassed, as she caught sight 
 of Kate s drawn face. 
 
 It was the reserved, cold Kate Monroe, ignored 
 for three years in the Hall, who slipped hurriedly 
 out of the crowd and hastened toward her room. 
 She was sobbing before she reached the door. 
 
 Up in Room 45 the Sophomores were again packed 
 in like sardines. A table, swept of books and papers, 
 was covered with plates of "eats." Three channg- 
 
 [ 102]
 
 THE ARROGANCE OF THE SECOND TEAR 
 
 dishes of creamed chicken were steaming on another, 
 borrowed for the occasion. Edna Blythe was sitting 
 on the floor, with piles of Roble china and two boxes 
 of crackers in front of her, ready to slip a cracker 
 on a plate and pass it up to the cooks. A coffee-pot 
 was humming away on the bureau. 
 
 "Everything is ready," one of the cooks an 
 nounced. "Pass up the dishes, Edna, we re tired 
 of jubilating over the Seniors poor use of our time, 
 with all the eats over there." 
 
 "Wait a minute, Peter hasn t come yet," some one 
 remonstrated. 
 
 "She s had a half-hour to congratulate Kate 
 Monroe in that ought to be enough." The cook 
 had become irritable. The other two were enjoying 
 scrapings from the edges of their chafing-dishes and 
 made no remarks. 
 
 "Put in some more milk and be cheerful," Edna 
 admonished. "Somebody do a stunt to keep the 
 party amused; we re saving the speeches and the 
 hurrahs till Peter comes." 
 
 A subdued shout of laughter greeted Kathleen 
 Knight as she rose and made her bow. Kathleen 
 had always been considered timid. "A take-off on 
 the solemn six after the election," she announced. 
 
 [ 103]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 The room was convulsed. "Give the yell," some 
 one called out. It was given with enthusiasm. 
 
 "Say, girls," Dorothy Howard drawled, "I heard 
 Frances Jones call us darned impertinent Sophs. I 
 asked her in the gentlest way possible whether she 
 had at that moment an overwhelming desire to be 
 a man with the privilege of profanity. She only 
 grunted, and headed toward Peter in the crush." 
 
 "Peter s tiny you ought to have protected her." 
 
 There was a whispered conspiracy for a moment. 
 Then a demand came in concert, "We want eats." 
 
 The cook put down the milk pitcher which she 
 had just raised, and looked inquiringly at Edna. 
 The latter gazed around at the restless throng. 
 "No use waiting for Peter. I guess she s got one of 
 her moods on, so there s no telling when she ll turn 
 up. Here you go," as she passed up the first plate. 
 
 A murmur of approval went the rounds. 
 
 Meanwhile, Peter had crept into Kate Monroe s 
 room and put her hand gently on the huddled form 
 on the couch. "Poor, poor Kate." The lump in 
 Peter s throat kept her from saying anything more. 
 
 Kate sat up and dashed the tell-tale tears from 
 her cheeks. "It s pretty late to be pitying me, don t 
 you think, Miss Sears? There s no use in my trying 
 to understand college. My old life was the only 
 
 [ 104]
 
 genuine one the hills and my books. I ve had my 
 experience and and," she hesitated, "well, that s 
 enough." There was a resigned bitterness in her 
 voice. 
 
 Peter took the inert hand dumbly. A slow tear 
 rolled unheeded down her cheek. 
 
 "And I thought," the other continued, slowly, 
 with a slight quiver in her voice, "that I had found 
 a genuine friend in you. And I was so surprised 
 and happy over the friendliness of the girls. I have 
 never been so content here as in the last two days. 
 I told myself over and over again how precious sym 
 pathy was. And after that " 
 
 Then Peter unburdened her conscience-stricken 
 mind; told her from the beginning to the end; wept 
 out her story of mental anguish, and insisted again 
 and again upon the admiration of all the girls for 
 her. "I was the only girl that wasn t true at first, 
 and I led the Sophomores into it but now, now it s 
 all different. You don t know how I respect you 
 I d rather have your friendship than any one else s 
 here. O Kate, you are too dandy to draw back 
 into your shell, and why, I have never seen the 
 girls become so suddenly and genuinely fond of any 
 one. They didn t realize it sooner, because you were 
 so non-assertive. Can t you forget the beginning
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 only remember the end*? And oh, Kate, I never did 
 such a thing in my life before, and I feel won t 
 you forgive me?" 
 
 Room 45 was suddenly hushed as the door knob 
 turned. Dread of a possible authoritative in 
 terference changed to astonishment as Peter slowly 
 walked in, followed by Kate Monroe. There were 
 traces of tears on both faces. Peter s unusual emo 
 tion was ill-concealed. 
 
 "Girls, we are not celebrating the defeat of the 
 Seniors!" her voice vibrated as she spoke, and she 
 put her arm around Kate Monroe, "but the election 
 of one of the finest, dandiest girls the Hall has 
 known." 
 
 There was a moment of tense silence, and then the 
 room, regardless of rules and week-night decorum, 
 cheered long and enthusiastically. 
 
 [106]
 
 Dofynston an6 tfyc Seminar
 
 MISS JOHNSTON AND THE SEMINAR 
 SYSTEM 
 
 Marion and Elizabeth were looking for Miss 
 Johnston. They had searched the Library from the 
 galleries to the basement, every secluded nook where 
 the pelican variety loves to dig in secret all of Miss 
 Johnston s haunts, as Elizabeth put it, with her 
 fascinating drawl and Miss Johnston had not been 
 forthcoming. Marion was anxious. She had prom 
 ised the other occupants of the back row in Botany 
 16 that she would look her up, and in Elizabeth s 
 case especially she felt there was urgent necessity. 
 Besides being from the East and a Botany major, 
 Miss Johnston had a "pull with the Prof." She was 
 one of those students who have more friends among 
 the faculty than among the undergraduates, and in 
 view of the coming "ex," though, as Elizabeth ad 
 mitted, it was cheeky to ask her, Miss Johnston 
 had been picked as the sacrifice to atone for the 
 shortcomings of the back row in Botany 16. 
 
 Finally, with a gleam of Sherlockian intelligence, 
 Marion suggested that they wander around to the 
 Y. W. C. A. meeting. "She must be here some 
 place," she added, "because that looks like her 
 
 [ 109]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 bicycle out there by the balustrade, the one with the 
 elaborate book-carrying appliance on front." 
 
 "I m glad you said wander, " Elizabeth mur 
 mured, appreciatively: "that s about my speed 
 limit." 
 
 The fact that they were incautious in approaching 
 the open door of the chapel, and were compelled by 
 decency to enter, was lost sight of as Miss Johnston 
 was discovered on the other side of the room. 
 Marion kept an eye on her during the prayer, after 
 which a sweet old lady with the face of a saint ad 
 dressed the meeting, telling in her quaint, old- 
 fashioned way her religious experiences as a girl. 
 With a soul for atmosphere, the dreamy Marion fell 
 in love with her at once, and was soon lost in follow 
 ing her back down the years into the far-distant 
 golden youth, which always hangs as a halo about 
 the aged. And in the lesser light of the late after 
 noon, Elizabeth s wide eyes assumed an expression 
 almost of piety. 
 
 Their rare presence had created an impression, 
 and after the meeting, as they carelessly approached 
 Miss Johnston, with an art known only to experi 
 enced rushers, their victim, in a shy way, was so glad 
 to see them and wanted to know why they didn t 
 come oftener. 
 
 [HO]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 "I ve always had lab before at this hour," 
 Marion explained, mercilessly leaving Elizabeth in 
 the lurch. "Isn t it frightful to have one s after 
 noons taken up 4 ? You can t go anywhere." 
 
 "Well, I never work in the evening, so I don t 
 mind much," Miss Johnston put in, weakly. 
 
 "Of course, there is that side of it, too," Marion 
 laughed frankly; "sometimes I really wish I were a 
 science major." 
 
 Miss Johnston beamed with departmental pride. 
 "You ought to change. There s nothing like it." 
 
 Marion fell back a little. "I m afraid I m too 
 lazy. I have a perversion for lecture courses." 
 
 By this time they had reached the door, and when 
 the end of the Quad was neared, the subject of 
 Botany 16 had been carefully led up to. 
 
 "It s very inclusive," Miss Johnston said, appre 
 ciatively, "really a summary of all Botany, and 
 Professor Jones handles it in such a masterful way." 
 
 "That s the trouble," sadly murmured Elizabeth, 
 who had kept in the background. 
 
 "You see, we haven t had any Botany before," 
 Marion explained, "the names alone simply stagger 
 us." She glanced at Elizabeth. "I suppose we 
 might as well own up that we heard it was an awful 
 pipe last semester, and so we took it. We ve been
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 to every lecture, but we can t even take notes intel 
 ligently and we re simply appalled before that 
 examination." 
 
 Miss Johnston seemed affected. "Have you the 
 book 1 ?" she asked. 
 
 "Well, we re going to get it on our way home. 
 You see, we haven t done anything yet." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 Marion coughed. "We wondered if you would 
 mind going over some of it with us. If it wouldn t 
 be too much trouble for you, it would be an awful 
 help." 
 
 Elizabeth looked at her appealingly. "I know 
 I m not going to pass it and I need the hour to 
 graduate." 
 
 Miss Johnston was reluctant. She dreaded any 
 innovation on the even routine of her carefully 
 scheduled existence. But they were such pleasant 
 girls in the end, she said she would be glad to do 
 it if she really could help them. 
 
 Elizabeth almost fell into her arms, and her sigh 
 of relief was beautiful to hear. 
 
 "Tomorrow night at the house?" Marion ques 
 tioned. "You had better stay all night, as it is so 
 hard to get back to Palo Alto then." 
 
 Miss Johnston hesitated. "To be out at night!"
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 A sort of frightened feeling stole over her. Yet 
 what could she do but accept in the end"? 
 
 Elizabeth in absolute joy raced homeward along 
 the deserted Quad, Marion following after. At the 
 post-office, in the midst of the crowd which lined up 
 for the five-thirty mail, they saw Sam. 
 
 "We ve got her," Elizabeth almost shouted, un 
 mindful of appearances, "for tomorrow." 
 
 The seminar had assembled and was waiting. 
 The victims of the examination system there repre 
 sented were all confirmed converts to the seminar 
 habit, which substitutes one hard, quick cram for the 
 process of daily absorption. They were gathered 
 around the long, white oilcloth-covered table in the 
 Lambda Eta kitchen, which the Lambda Eta cook 
 boasted was the neatest kitchen on the campus, with 
 its white-painted woodwork, its model French range, 
 and its long, high sink under the windows. At any 
 rate, it was the favorite seminar place of the house 
 and was signed up for far ahead in examination 
 week. The fire in the range warmed the room 
 pleasantly, and kept at a simmering heat a huge 
 coffee-pot. On the long sink were piles of shining 
 plates and silver. 
 
 Marion, with a head for the system of the thing, 
 sat at the end of the table, her elbows firmly planted
 
 AW INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 upon it. Collecting the syllabus with a decisive 
 shuffle, she began to read from the first page. Eliza 
 beth, her head bent down at a most attractive angle, 
 was industriously beginning to cover a huge sheet of 
 paper with very fine notes. Marion had once indi 
 cated to her in no veiled fashion the telegraphic re 
 semblance in the uninterrupted connection between 
 her sense of hearing and the point of her foun 
 tain-pen. Margaret Sears was chewing the end 
 of her pencil and gazing at the ceiling, her features 
 puckered in an effort at concentration which dis 
 regarded appearances. At the other end of the 
 paper-littered table, Willy Saunders elaborately 
 fashioned a pencil point. He was handsome almost 
 to a degree of wickedness, and carried around with 
 him a most exasperating air of careless indifference; 
 at least, exasperating to Marion, who, though half 
 fascinated herself, guessed his true value. But he 
 was a member of the "back row," and so had been 
 asked. 
 
 Sam was posted on the front porch to steer Miss 
 Johnston clear of the English Club, which was 
 meeting in the front rooms, whence came a confused 
 murmur of animated conversation. His task be 
 came a doubly difficult one when Miss Johnston and 
 the speaker of the evening arrived in the same bus. 
 
 [114]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 The senior s hair almost stood on end as he recog 
 nized that it would be his duty to single out Miss 
 Johnston, suit-case and all, without explanation to 
 her companion. As he introduced himself and 
 pulled her aside just in time to avoid the wide front 
 door which was held open, the expression of amaze 
 ment on Miss Johnston s face grew to one almost of 
 terror; and, if the busman had not driven away im 
 mediately, she would probably have returned, rather 
 than have risked walking around to the back door in 
 the dark with a strange student. 
 
 However, when Sam had helped her up the back 
 steps, where she stumbled blindly, she was greeted 
 effusively by the girls and by Willy Saunders in his 
 most polite manner. The suit case was pushed be 
 hind the stove, an extra chair was brought from the 
 dining-room, and the seminar settled down to earnest 
 effort. 
 
 The first lecture proved rather tractable, as it was 
 almost entirely introductory. Saunders congratu 
 lated himself proudly as he answered Marion s 
 challenging question on the definition of Botany. 
 
 "Hold on," called Sam, "the old man hasn t asked 
 a question on the introduction for the last five years, 
 and here are the : ex papers to prove it." Trium 
 phantly he pulled a bundle of much-handled type- 
 
 [115]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 written sheets from his pocket. They were snatched 
 at with exaggerated eagerness and passed around the 
 table. 
 
 Miss Johnston stared. Such methods and such 
 language were beyond her comprehension. Willy, 
 in mock humility, almost crawled under the table, 
 and Marion sternly brought things to order by 
 beginning on lecture two. 
 
 "Always asks about the constituents of proto 
 plasm," interrupted Sam, and all listened respect 
 fully while Miss Johnston gave the correct list for 
 them to write down. A description of the simplest 
 forms of life required explanation, Elizabeth insist 
 ing in her positive manner that a slime-mole can 
 breathe, while it exhausted all the resources of the 
 rest to convince her that it cannot in the way she 
 meant. A compromise was effected by Miss John 
 ston, and the excitement had subsided, when a dele 
 gate from the English Club ventured a head inside 
 the door and requested less noise. In the hush that 
 followed they could hear the steady, deep boom of 
 the speaker s voice, mingled with the giggles of the 
 Lambda Etas listening on the back stairs. 
 
 "What s he talking about?" 
 
 "Reading an original poem, and you re making 
 an awful noise." The delegate closed the door. 
 
 [116]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STS^fEM 
 
 In a whisper Miss Johnston was asked to explain 
 how plants first progressed from water to land. The 
 subject was then discussed at length all around the 
 table, especially with reference to what one should 
 write on an examination paper. 
 
 "Higher forms of the green algse," repeated 
 Saunders; "that sounds good. I ll remember that." 
 His list of things to remember was growing gradu 
 ally, and it was he who finally suggested that they 
 go over the former examination questions, one by 
 one, and draw up a passable answer to each. The 
 table exchanged glances, and, deciding that it would 
 hardly be a loss of time, the plan was followed. 
 Miss Johnston led in the discussions, the rest added 
 from their notes and the syllabus, and Saunders care 
 fully jotted down the result. As the same questions 
 occurred rather systematically, Marion figured that 
 he stood a fair chance of getting at least two-thirds 
 of them. 
 
 It was toward the end of the last set that a muffled 
 outburst of applause from the other part of the 
 house warned them that the English Club was about 
 to break up. 
 
 "I guess an intermission is in order now," giggled 
 Elizabeth. "After Dr. Robinson s vote of thanks, 
 
 [117]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the -howling mob will be out here. Don t any one 
 skip for good, though," she added. 
 
 Sam and Marion, swiftly gathering their papers, 
 vanished into the dining-room, unwilling to be 
 caught by their more dutiful fellow-members who 
 had attended. Saunders retreated as far as the 
 pantry, while Elizabeth and Margaret swept stray 
 papers to a place of safety. 
 
 Voices and footsteps were heard approaching, and 
 in a moment the door burst open, letting in the mem 
 bers of the refreshment committee, followed by a 
 host of helpers, whose ranks were augmented by 
 couples returning from the Library. Two huge 
 freezers were hauled in from the back porch, and, 
 before Willy could object, Elizabeth had singled 
 him out from among the stragglers, presented him 
 with a white apron, and set him at work over one of 
 the cold, wet cans, mining spoonfuls of chocolate ice 
 cream. He grinned sheepishly as the other men 
 gathered around, waiting with huge trays of white 
 plates, and urging him to "get a hustle on." As 
 rapidly as he managed to fill them up, the trays were 
 hurried off to the front rooms, amidst the rattle of 
 dishes and noisy conversation. They were followed 
 by supplies of cake. Sam, peering from the dining- 
 room door, announced to Marion that Willy was 
 
 [us]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 doing his first good day s work. At any rate, when 
 the latter finally straightened up from his labors, he 
 heaved a sigh of relief and sank into a chair. 
 
 The long table was then cluttered with innumer 
 able coffee cups, which Margaret and Elizabeth filled 
 from the big pot and sent close upon the trail of the 
 ice-cream, the last of which Sam had enviously 
 watched disappear. He and Marion did not venture 
 out until the last of the noisy assistants had van 
 ished. They remembered Miss Johnston with a 
 guilty conscience. She was sitting in the same place, 
 her hands folded in her lap and her bewildered eyes 
 taking in everything. Marion was truly sorry and 
 helped her bountifully when refreshments were or 
 dered for the "kitchen," as a reward for their labors 
 and in appreciation of the generous orders of the 
 English Club. Free from the restraint of the gather 
 ing in the other room, the occupants of the kitchen 
 devoured ice-cream and cake in copious quantities. 
 In the storm of returning plates the "Have-one-on- 
 me" inner society of the English Club came out and 
 took possession of the pantry for a meeting, whence 
 came at intervals shouts of laughter and hilarious 
 bits of conversation. 
 
 It was eleven-thirty before the order of the sem 
 inar was restored, and then Saunders, whose good
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 humor had returned, carefully pocketing the results 
 of his evening s work, announced that he was much 
 obliged but would have to go as he had another 
 seminar to attend before retiring. 
 
 The rest gathered more closely around the table, 
 and though other seminars from up-stairs came down 
 and pestered them for coffee, for the next half hour 
 Sam held Miss Johnston s supreme attention, diving 
 into the whys and wherefores of plant evolution. 
 Perched on the edge of his chair, one hand ruffling his 
 disordered hair and the other punctuating, with a jab 
 of the pencil, the points which he made from time to 
 time, he inquired into relations and causes with an 
 intentness that flushed Miss Johnston s cheeks with 
 excitement and kept her mind responding at its high 
 est tension. Marion looked at her and wondered. 
 In this intellectual encounter her eyes shone and she 
 held her own. She forgot her usual shyness, and the 
 pleasure in her face gave it a look almost of pretti- 
 ness. The heights of thinking which she revealed 
 made the other girl wince, and her wonderful ap 
 preciation of the immense grandeur of the slow evo 
 lutionary process which the lectures set forth was 
 almost reverent. In the end Sam was talking for 
 the pure love of the argument. Elizabeth gazed in a 
 dazed manner, watching Sam in a sort of bewilder- 
 
 [120]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 ment at Miss Johnston s momentary triumph. Mar 
 garet was following closely, taking notes. 
 
 At twelve, Elizabeth tiptoed through the hall and 
 cautiously let Sam out the front door. When she 
 returned, Margaret had gathered together her notes, 
 and commenting on Marion s thoughtfulness in ask 
 ing her to stay all night, said she would retire to 
 dream of algee and pteridophytes and take her 
 chances in the morning. 
 
 In the kitchen there was no sound save the ticking 
 of the alarm clock on the wall and the drip of water 
 in the sink, while Marion was engaged in pouring 
 another round of coffee. It seemed to revive at least 
 two of the company wonderfully. Elizabeth de 
 clared she wasn t sleepy at all, and Miss Johnston, 
 both excited and stimulated, refused to go to bed 
 until they did. A sense of profound quiet and secur 
 ity reigned, and Elizabeth vowed that if she ever 
 was going to learn anything, now was the time. 
 
 "I have such a jumble of things in my head 
 though." She looked at her voluminous notes help 
 lessly. "I can t seem to make head or tail of any 
 thing. Oh, why didn t I stick to the French depart 
 ment," she wailed, and her grief was distressing. 
 
 Marion regarded her meditatively. "I wish you 
 had," almost rose to her lips, but she shut them 
 
 [121]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 firmly. Marion was tired and her temper had almost 
 got the better of her. Why, she wondered, was Eliza 
 beth so adorably stupid. Anyone should have been 
 able to grasp the important points long ago. As it 
 was, she merely said patiently, "We ll begin at the 
 beginning and Miss Johnston will explain as we go 
 along." The latter smiled encouragingly and 
 Marion took heart. Gradually they re-covered the 
 ground, Marion carefully pointing out the important 
 things, and Elizabeth slowly and with difficulty 
 clearing her mind of erroneous impressions. When 
 a great light did dawn on the subject, and she per 
 ceived the difference between an archegonium and an 
 antheridium, she rejoiced triumphantly and they 
 stopped for another round of coffee. 
 
 At two, however, Elizabeth had become entangled 
 again. The undemonstrative Marion laid her head 
 on the table and wept tears of vexation. She was 
 mentally exhausted by the effort of persuading Eliza 
 beth to concentrated thinking. In a moment Eliza 
 beth s head was down beside hers, her tears were 
 dried, and Elizabeth was begging her to give it up 
 and not mind about her flunking. Marion refused 
 stoutly. "Not when we re going to graduate to 
 gether," she sobbed. 
 
 Miss Johnston came to the relief. Tactfully 
 
 [ 122]
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 she suggested that she read from "Jones s Manual," 
 in order to impart a final clear impression. For 
 an hour Miss Johnston s voice droned on evenly, 
 the monotony broken only by the recurrence of 
 the long botanical names, or when Elizabeth 
 looked up to ask a question. Then they discussed 
 again and Marion herself became involved over the 
 identification of the macrospore in the gymnosperms. 
 Miss Johnston drew diagrams, and Marion called 
 nondescript dots and circles by most unscientific 
 names. Books, pencils, and papers were piled to 
 gether to form rough models, and when it was set 
 tled there were dark circles under Miss Johnston s 
 eyes. Still she would not admit being tired. In 
 fact, she was very happy, and just then an endless 
 seminar with Marion and Elizabeth would have 
 seemed very pleasant. The intimacy at which they 
 had arrived by three-thirty was as charming as it 
 was novel to Miss Johnston. They had all laughed 
 at Elizabeth s sigh of relief as she grasped a point, 
 and then the latter had held her hand and called 
 her "a perfect peach," while Marion blessed her 
 inwardly. 
 
 It was after four when the older girl finally re 
 lented and creeping stealthily up-stairs returned with 
 an armful of comforters. In a matter-of-fact manner 
 
 [ 123]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 at which Miss Johnston was appalled, she remarked 
 that they might as well bunk in on the couches in 
 the other room and save the trouble of going to bed. 
 
 Huddled up among the pillows on one of the 
 Lambda Eta divans, Miss Johnston closed her eyes 
 in a vain endeavor to sleep. A vague feeling of ela 
 tion at having been most extraordinarily reckless 
 made her heart beat faster than it ought to. It was 
 all right except that there was a tightening between 
 her brows that forbode a splitting headache, and her 
 mind kept reiterating the words, "coffee," "seminar," 
 "Marion," "Elizabeth," "Jones," "old man." Turn 
 as she might, she could think of nothing else, and 
 there was somehow a strange uncomfortableness 
 about sleeping in one s clothes. Again she won 
 dered what her friends would say if they knew, and a 
 shiver of horror stole over her. 
 
 Slowly the time passed until a gray light filtered 
 in through the east windov/s, and there was the rattle 
 of a key in the back door, followed by heavy steps in 
 the kitchen. Miss Johnston sat up in terror, but 
 Marion called over that it was only the cook coming 
 in to get breakfast. As she lay down again Miss 
 Johnston felt her head throb excruciatingly, and so 
 decided to occupy one of the large armchairs until 
 breakfast should be ready. The other two joined
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STSfEM 
 
 her soon, and when the early risers came down from 
 above they found the trio crouched about a fire in the 
 grate. Marion and Elizabeth were memorizing lists 
 of genera and species and Miss Johnston was holding 
 her head thoughtfully. 
 
 The looks of her surprised sisters were evaded by 
 the older girl until she could no longer stand it, and 
 then Elizabeth caught the drift of a severe lecture 
 from the adjoining room, and Marion s remon 
 strance, "Well, I only did it for Elizabeth." She 
 looked at Miss Johnston, who smiled heroically. 
 
 The propensities of the Lambda Etas toward late 
 rising and the disposition of the cook, had reduced 
 breakfast there to a very simple affair. The sight 
 of more coffee filled Miss Johnston with qualms of 
 apprehension, but she tried to eat a few mouthfuls 
 of toast. At eight o clock Miss Johnston s suitcase 
 was rescued from behind the kitchen stove, where it 
 had been put the night before; the girls refilled their 
 fountain pens and searched the house for "ex" 
 blanks. The walk down the row was made in 
 silence, but to Miss Johnston it seemed as though she 
 were in the midst of a triumphant procession she 
 had attended an all-night seminar. 
 
 During the examination, the back row wrote furi 
 ously and with satisfied certainty all except
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Marion. She was seeing blank spaces where she had 
 no reason to expect them, and her mind worked 
 with disconcerting slowness. At first, she had been 
 concerned only for Elizabeth, but a glance at the 
 questions showed her that Professor Jones, with his 
 usual conservatism, had limited himself to the ques 
 tions issued in former years. Not one of them but 
 had seen at least two "ex" seasons. "Even Eliza 
 beth," Marion sighed, "ought to pass easily." 
 
 Relieved of this anxiety, she began to write, but 
 the answers which she knew so well somehow be 
 came horribly entangled. Things danced before her 
 eyes, and when she wrote, it was the wrong word 
 and not the one she had intended. Was it red or 
 green algse that grew so large 4 ? She tried to remem 
 ber some that she had seen at the seashore last sum 
 mer. She found herself imagining that they were 
 pink and purple. "Pink or purple? " she wondered, 
 and then she didn t care which. It was all right as 
 long as Elizabeth knew. 
 
 She looked up dizzily and wondered what Miss 
 Johnston was doing. There in tb front row, her 
 hat was a hazy blur of red before Marion s eyes. 
 She imagined that Miss Johnston was not writing 
 but sat leaning her head on her hand. "I wonder 
 how she feels ? " thought Marion, and gripped the
 
 MISS JOHNSTON and the SEMINAR STS^EM 
 
 arm of her own chair in order to maintain her sense 
 of equilibrium. Presently Miss Johnston rose un 
 steadily. She walked to the front of the room and 
 laid her paper on the desk, evading the surprised 
 look of Professor Jones. Marion gazed after her as 
 she groped almost blindly for the door. Then with 
 slow deliberation she rose, handed in her own paper, 
 and followed Miss Johnston. 
 
 She found the latter in the hall, pale and almost 
 in tears. 
 
 "What will Professor Jones think 4 ? " she said. 
 "What will he think, and how can I ever explain 4 ? " 
 
 Marion tried to comfort her. "Do you feel very 
 badly 4 ? " she asked. 
 
 "Everything is going around," was the bewildered 
 reply. "I don t know what it is. I I think I ll go 
 home. He ll never have the same opinion of me 
 again," she added. 
 
 "He ll give you another chance," Marion assured 
 her. 
 
 "I d be too ashamed to ask him," wailed Miss 
 Johnston. "I never would." 
 
 "He ll give you one anyway," said Marion. "He 
 knows you do good work. I only hoped you d put 
 in a word for me." 
 
 [127]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Did you" Miss Johnston choked at the word 
 "did you f flunk, too? " 
 
 Marion nodded mournfully. 
 
 Miss Johnston looked sympathetic, but she could 
 not suppress her own mortification. "It s the first 
 time," she moaned, "I ve always had A before. 
 I never and I never stayed up all night before," 
 she finished, pressing her hand against her forehead. 
 
 Just then Elizabeth burst forth from the class 
 room joyously, and caught Miss Johnston by the 
 arm. Her eyes were dancing with laughter. "I m 
 so happy," she cried. "I answered every one, and 
 I know I drew a B at least. And it s all on account 
 of you two you were perfectly dandy to do it." 
 
 Miss Johnston tried to smile, but Marion re 
 garded her friend wearily. "Elizabeth," she said, 
 "I hope you will be very careful of that diploma of 
 yours." 
 
 [128]
 
 to~plato
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 From the north window of Mrs. King s comfort 
 able dining-room, the bright-sanded crescent of Half 
 Moon Bay and the blue of the ocean were clearly 
 discernible below the range upon range of thick- 
 wooded foothills that slope gently down to the 
 Coast. Away off, as far as the eye could see, the 
 Farallones showed themselves in the clear November 
 air two dark dots on the horizon. 
 
 Miss Howard, gazing out dreamily past Jim 
 McNear s head, knew that it was the last time she 
 should see it all for a very long time. She had en 
 joyed her many trips to this odd mountain house 
 more than any other outings during her three years 
 at the University the air was so fine and clear, the 
 view of the ocean so satisfying, after being shut in 
 for weeks down there in the valley, and the beauty 
 of the many walks through the woods offered a com 
 bination of sea and forest that was delightful. 
 
 "I m so glad you brought me here," she exclaimed 
 impulsively. 
 
 Even the simple, homely room they were in had 
 become suddenly attractive to her. A rousing fire 
 crackled pleasantly in the little iron stove at one 
 
 [131]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 side. Over in the corner a second table, only brought 
 into service for the overflow of guests who drive up 
 during the week-end, had been pushed back against 
 the wall. It was in use now as a sewing- table, and 
 gay bits of patchwork and a sewing-basket were its 
 chief ornaments. A parrot in a huge cage just inside 
 the kitchen door broke in every now and then with 
 a torrent of volubility or launched forth upon the 
 solemn chanting of the Litany in a way that was 
 irresistibly droll. Miss Howard s mood was satis 
 fied absolutely with the atmosphere of it all. 
 
 "You re really glad 4 ? " McNear queried in a 
 pleased voice. "Well, I shan t be if you don t eat 
 something. You ought to be famished after this 
 long drive and your week at the Guild," he fin 
 ished laughingly. 
 
 "It was rather prosaic. But see here, you aren t 
 doing your share either." 
 
 McNear looked down at his plate and made a wry 
 face. In spite of the medley of tempting aromas 
 from one of Mrs. King s inimitable dinners, he had 
 conscientiously helped himself only to such things 
 as the training table at the Inn would have offered 
 him. 
 
 "One of the sacrifices of a football man," he ex 
 plained with a mock-heroic gesture at his plate. 
 
 [
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 Miss Howard s face assumed an exaggerated pity. 
 "In my present frame of mind and appetite," she 
 assured him, "I could imagine a no more difficult one 
 to live up to. You see what a poor hospital subject 
 I am! " she added challengingly, though the peaked 
 look of her face belied her. 
 
 The first thing that impressed you about Frances 
 Howard was the extreme fragileness of her physique. 
 The girls at Madrona spoke of her as "the piece 
 of Dresden," and nothing had ever described her 
 more accurately. Her slight, oval face, with its deli 
 cacy of contour and feature, was strangely in har 
 mony with her slender figure. Something about the 
 slightly accentuated cheek bones and the way her 
 dark hair grew down softly about her temples 
 gave her an indefinable charm and distinction. Her 
 brown eyes had a kindly, misty sort of way of look 
 ing at you, that would have added the last touch to 
 the spiritual impression of her personality, had it 
 not been for the merry lights that danced behind 
 them when she was amused, and the charming 
 piquancy of expression that never left her features 
 a moment in repose. 
 
 Miss Howard s home town was over on the At 
 lantic seaboard, in the south of Maryland, and she 
 had been dropped off at Stanford just three years 
 
 [ 133]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 before as her family went through from a summer 
 in Santa Barbara. She had come to love the free, 
 open-hearted life of the West as only an Eastern- 
 bred girl can, and her family, watching the added 
 vigour with which she came home to them each sum 
 mer, were glad to let her return. 
 
 There was a quizzical look on Miss Howard s 
 face as she glanced up at McNear. "I don t see why 
 they are shipping me off home," she protested rue 
 fully. "To get down to Florida and come north 
 with the spring, sounds very poetic, no doubt, but 
 it is a wretched inconvenience just the same." 
 
 "Let s not talk about that today, Frances," he said 
 quietly. "Sunday will be here soon enough." 
 
 "Procrastinating again"? " Miss Howard tossed 
 her head with a bantering air, and McNear winced, 
 in spite of the playfulness in her voice, as he was 
 reminded of the proverbial characteristic with which 
 the college world coupled his name. He went back 
 over his three years in the University. He had 
 "made" all the easy honours in the way of organiza 
 tions, he had queened with an enthusiasm as effec 
 tive as it was varied, and he had just missed the 
 things he most wanted in those three years. 
 
 McNear looked across at Miss Howard. She was 
 the only one who had ever held him down to any- 
 
 [134]
 
 thing, but then, her regime had only begun with the 
 last spring semester. There had followed an inter 
 mittent summer correspondence, to hold the loose 
 ends of their chumminess together, and then he had 
 come back to these fall days of drudgery on the foot 
 ball squad, with Frances a faithful task-master on 
 the bleachers. Three years McNear had fought it 
 out on the second team, and three years his care 
 free, procrastinating attitude had seen him beaten 
 by a man who was better than he a deciding degree 
 better. But he had his hand on it for a certainty 
 this season. Frances s uncompromising severity had 
 driven him to a faithfulness and interest in practice 
 that Stuart, the coach, had never believed him capa 
 ble of. Besides, with Billy Duncan the only other 
 man playing him for the position, the odds were all 
 in his favour. Duncan s handicap this season was 
 threefold, a drain on his time through instructing in 
 Chemistry, the expenditure of four good hours a 
 day waiting upon table at Madrona, and perhaps, 
 most taxing of all, his struggle to keep up with the 
 requirements of the Scholarship Committee. There 
 was a far-away look in McNear s eyes as he gazed 
 musingly at Miss Howard. He wondered if she 
 realized that he was hazarding all that those two 
 months of unprecedented faithfulness promised him.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Four days from now and Frances would be gone! 
 After all, it was only a very little risk he was taking 
 he was almost ashamed to have thought of it. 
 His absence at the training table was being ac 
 counted for even now by one of the fellows, while 
 he and Frances sat there fifteen miles away from 
 the Campus. And he would be back for the last 
 practice at 4:30! 
 
 Miss Howard, who had been watching McNear 
 intently for the last few minutes, pushed her chair 
 from the table and walked to the door. 
 
 "Come out on the porch when you have finished 
 your brown study," she called to him banteringly 
 over her shoulder, "and I ll try to be more enter 
 taining." 
 
 McNear collected himself with a start, thrust the 
 last vestige of maudlin self-reproach in the back 
 ground and followed her. 
 
 She was sitting on the low bench that runs the 
 length of the porch, and the overgrown Spaniel pup 
 from the stable sprawled at her feet, pulling play 
 fully at her shoe laces. Miss Howard laughed as 
 she rolled him over with one foot. "First time I 
 met him," she said, "he was a little bit of a fellow, 
 and he had followed us half-way down the mountain 
 before we discovered him. We were going home by
 
 DEDICATE ?() PLATO 
 
 the ridge road," she explained, "and after we got 
 down in the valley poor Mr. Duncan had to bring 
 the little beast all the way back to Tripp s. Of 
 course we were late for dinner, and in Mr. Duncan s 
 case an explanation was embarrassing. Queening 
 from a woman-hater would have been fatal, and the 
 restoration of a lost dog that he would never have 
 lived down." 
 
 McNear, who did not like the man, showed it 
 plainly in his face as he ventured disagreeably, 
 "Rather marked attention, isn t it, when a chronic 
 woman-hater gets to queening"? " 
 
 Miss Howard smiled. "Not at all," she corrected 
 him, "just the best vindication in the world of 
 despised old Plato. He s a good disciple Billy." 
 
 McNear shrugged his shoulders in a way that was 
 meant to imply a lack of interest or skepticism, Miss 
 Howard could not tell which. As a matter of fact 
 he had a prejudice against Duncan as deep-rooted as 
 it was unreasonable, which harked back to some 
 trivial difference of their Sophomore days. His 
 knowledge of Miss Howard s friendship for the man 
 had fanned a dislike into something like real enmity. 
 Not the least part of his satisfaction over his football 
 prospects lay in the fact that it was Duncan whom 
 he had outclassed for the place. 
 
 [ 137]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 The shrug of the shoulders was lost on Miss How 
 ard, who was looking out over the porch railing at 
 the distant water. She had started a topic of con 
 versation that interested her, and she evidently 
 meant to continue it. 
 
 "That was one of the best days I ever had in col 
 lege," she murmured dreamily. "Did you ever go 
 home that way"? Not many people know about it 
 sort of a discovery of Billy s, I imagine. You start 
 out the ridge toward the caves and then turn back 
 and strike a private road that winds in and out down 
 the mountain. I wish we could go home that way ! 
 It s really shorter, and I think I could find the road." 
 
 McNear reminded her abruptly that he was due 
 back at practice at 4 130, and it would be taking too 
 great a risk. 
 
 "Oh! of course," Miss Howard agreed, "it would 
 be a risk. And besides," she added whimsically, 
 "I should like to leave that drive isolated just as 
 it is marked, Dedicate to Plato, say, and stowed 
 away among life s proud reminiscences. It s good to 
 have them to haul out now and then, you know, 
 when one s self-esteem needs a tonic." 
 
 "You have had too much popularity to be im 
 pressed by the conquest of a man merely because he 
 
 [138]
 
 DEDICATE rO PLATO 
 
 is a conquest, Frances." There was an impatient 
 note in McNear s voice and some chagrin. 
 
 "Now you know it isn t that," she protested. 
 "You don t realize what he has done all alone, 
 too." McNear looked up at her suspiciously, but her 
 expression was disarming. "I didn t know about it 
 myself," she went on, "until Sue and Miss Williams 
 came out from Texas last fall. When they walked 
 into the dining-room at luncheon and saw Billy 
 there, they couldn t believe their eyes and he, poor 
 fellow, was fussed to death. Then they told me the 
 whole thing. Mr. Duncan, Sr., doesn t believe in the 
 indispensability of a university career, and when 
 Billy came home to Texas from Prep school, his 
 father wanted to put him out on the range. Billy 
 balked, picked up and came West to make his own 
 way through college. It was a pretty gritty thing 
 to be doing, and emotional Sue almost shed tears 
 over him, then and there, in her admiration for his 
 noble spirit. I think it was because I saved him a 
 scene that he has favoured me ever since. Of course, 
 his heroic conduct was reported with side-lights and 
 embellishments when Sue and Miss Williams got 
 back, and Mr. Duncan rose to the occasion finely. 
 Billy was put on an allowance and urged to come 
 home for the next holidays. He sent back the 
 
 [ 139]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 allowance and wrote that he could not afford a trip 
 home. Then he stayed on and worked it out to his 
 own satisfaction. By that time he had been made 
 an assistant in the Lab, and he was saving enough, 
 well, to take me driving now and then," she finished 
 laughingly. 
 
 McNear was interested in spite of himself. The 
 fact that he had outplayed Duncan for his position 
 did not give him as much satisfaction as before. And 
 Duncan, fighting all that, had made the team twice 
 already, while he but that was before Frances 
 Howard got him down to business. 
 
 "I don t see why he didn t choose something else 
 besides waiting on table for a lot of girls. He s 
 clever enough to hold down three or four jobs in the 
 assistant line." McNear, inquiring curiously into 
 the mental processes whereby a woman-hater chose a 
 girls dormitory table as the scene of his daily strug 
 gle for existence, was unconscious of the commen 
 dation in his voice. 
 
 "Oh, that s the zest of it all," she cried, "the 
 human interest. Madrona dining-room s full of it; 
 Billy declares it s his only diversion in life. He 
 can look on from a distance, as it were, and make a 
 general survey of the genus femmeum." 
 
 "He doesn t seem satisfied with that," McNear 
 
 [ HO]
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 observed shortly, in a tone which carried the caustic 
 inference that particularizing in Miss Howard s 
 direction was stepping on some one s else preserves. 
 
 Miss Howard ignored the inference and went on 
 enthusiastically. "He quite thawed out the day we 
 drove home by the caves." She was looking out in 
 a reminiscent way along the narrow trail, just wide 
 enough for a rig, which starts up the steep hill at 
 the side of the barn. "Usually he is so utterly im 
 personal and far off," she volunteered. "Even a 
 very little confidence seems a great deal and well, 
 it makes me proud that he approves of me." There 
 was a frank note of pleasure in her voice as she 
 finished. 
 
 McNear, glancing critically at her face, pulled 
 out his watch. "Two o clock," he said shortly, 
 "and if we are going home by the ridge road, we d 
 better be starting. I ll see to the horses now." 
 
 Oh, I though you were afraid it might be ven 
 turesome ! And besides, I m not sure that I care to 
 go that way either." But there was an amused smile 
 in her eyes as she watched him stomp over to the 
 stable to help harness the pintos. And she had kept 
 the conversation off herself! 
 
 The pursuit of fire-trails and short cuts that were 
 to lead to the beaten road had become devious and
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 bewildering. McNear, fortified with an unquestion 
 ing faith, bred of the conviction that Miss Howard, 
 having covered the ground before under such mem 
 orable circumstances, was a competent guide, scraped 
 the newly painted runabout through impossible 
 places and drove deeper and deeper into the woods. 
 
 "There ought to be little white bits of cloth tied 
 to the trees here and there. There were when Mr. 
 Duncan and " 
 
 McNear, with exaggerated interest, broke in to 
 assure her that the storms last winter had been un 
 usually severe and any landmarks would have surely 
 been swept away. 
 
 Then the uneven trail they were threading dipped 
 down precipitously onto a wide, well-made road, 
 and Miss Howard, who had judiciously climbed 
 out while the last alarming bit of the descent was 
 made, running along eagerly to the nearest turn, 
 proclaimed it the very road of delectation which 
 she had traveled before. 
 
 With a movement of restrained impatience, her 
 companion pulled out his watch and looked at it. 
 "It is three-thirty," he said simply. "I hope you are 
 right." There was a grieved look on Miss Howard s 
 face as she took her seat in the rig again, but she 
 said nothing.
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 In and out around endless mountain turns they 
 wound. "Seems to me we re on the wrong side of 
 the range," McNear ventured once nervously, as a 
 clearing at a horse-shoe opened up an unfamiliar 
 area of field and farmhouse in the valley below. 
 "We ought to be getting down quicker than this, too. 
 It s a pretty short descent on the east side." 
 
 Miss Howard, looking about her, felt a vague 
 uneasiness, but she said aloud, "I think the road does 
 wind in and out on the ocean side quite a way and 
 then goes through a gap or something to the other 
 side." 
 
 The man could not resist a smile of amusement at 
 the indefiniteness of the remark as he muttered some 
 thing about being "a duffer of a woodsman any 
 how," and "no doubt she was quite right." With a 
 side glance at McNear, Miss Howard settled her 
 self back more comfortably in the seat. When he 
 smiled like that she was content to have the road 
 wind on indefinitely. He was a "ne er do weel" to 
 a degree, to be sure; that is, he would have been if 
 she had not taken him in hand. And yet all the 
 things she liked best in him were inherent. She was 
 not detracting from his glory she was simply hold 
 ing him up to his best. 
 
 [143]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Suddenly McNear brought the horses to a stop. 
 "My Lord, Frances, look at that!" he cried excitedly 
 standing up in the rig. Miss Howard gazed be 
 wildered at the white sign-post, its letters blurring 
 before her in the early dusk, "To the Coast. Pes- 
 cadero, 8 miles." 
 
 The expression on McNear s face restrained the 
 commonplaces of self-blame that rose to the girl s 
 lips. 
 
 "Lord, girl ! I ve lost the team," he said brokenly, 
 "lost it the last chance and it s gone." 
 
 "What do you mean 1 ? You can explain. I ll tell 
 Mr. Stuart myself that we got lost in the hills and 
 couldn t get back." 
 
 There was a touch of bitterness in McNear s 
 laugh, until he caught the distressed flush in the 
 girl s cheeks and the threatening tears. She had 
 spoiled his Senior year for him and she knew it. 
 
 The importance of a last Varsity practice going on 
 thirty miles or more away, down in the football - 
 mad, excited country of the cardinal, meant nothing 
 to him for the moment. He was sitting beside 
 Frances Howard with that formidable road-sign 
 staring him mockingly in the face, and he was telling 
 her plainly, more plainly perhaps than he had 
 
 [ 144]
 
 DEDICATE fO PLA?0 
 
 thought he dared before she left, just why he had 
 taken the risk. 
 
 And Frances, weeping softly, protested that she 
 was not certain of herself at all, and he must say 
 nothing more. She had been warding off just such 
 a scene as this for the last month, and now she had 
 unwittingly brought it down on herself at a crucial 
 moment, with all the influence of sympathy and 
 self-reproach to make it harder. She would write 
 him from home and no, there was no ofte else. This 
 was all that McNear could get from her, and he had 
 to be content. 
 
 An eight-mile drive to Pescadero and they were 
 started back safely along a well-travelled county 
 road, with McNear urging the pintos to their limit. 
 The air was getting chill, and Miss Howard s wraps 
 were light. He took off his jersey and gave it to her, 
 
 "I wanted to give you one with an S, " he said 
 gloomily as he put it around her shoulders. He 
 could have bitten his tongue off the next moment 
 for the remark. "Frances, you know I wouldn t care 
 
 about a thousand S s if only " but the girl 
 
 stopped him, and a moody silence settled down on 
 them. 
 
 Mile after mile they drove along through the chill 
 night air, over the summit of the last ridge between 
 
 [45]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the coast and the valley, down along the lake drive 
 and on past Woodside. The road was as bright as 
 day in the moonlight. 
 
 "Do you know what s happening now at the 
 Rally? " McNear pulled out his watch. "Eight- 
 thirty," he commented. The band is playing Old 
 Colonial. Encina s coming in! Gee! can t you 
 imagine it all ? Here comes the team ! Everybody 
 on their feet and the yell leaders are keeping them 
 cheering like mad. Stuart and Powers and, yes, 
 Duncan, of course." McNear had himself well in 
 control. There was an absence of bitterness in his 
 voice that made it almost pathetic. "And Duncan 
 deserves it," he added slowly, as if to convince him 
 self. 
 
 Miss Howard s hand moved instinctively toward 
 his, but she held it tight with her other one under 
 the lap-robe. 
 
 "Stuart s giving them a little spiel," he went on 
 musingly. " Fighting chance nothing more. And 
 there s Dad, telling the crowd that the team s in as 
 good condition as any that s ever gone out. And. 
 say, Frances, who s this? Once there was a little 
 girl and a little boy. The little girl wore a red hair- 
 ribbon and " Miss Howard, mustering a faint 
 
 smile, protested that she never could guess.
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 "Now we ll have Professor Roberts and his per 
 ennial chaff to the galleries, and who " 
 
 "Look ! Look ! " Miss Howard was pointing off 
 excitedly to the south, where the lights of red fire 
 made a glowing halo over a group of low, stone 
 buildings. "It s the fire in the Inner Quad and the 
 serpentine." 
 
 McNear whistled bravely through a few bars of 
 an air that every Stanford man links inseparably 
 with football and the serpentine. 
 
 "Oh, hurry, hurry," the girl urged; "we must see 
 the end of it." 
 
 Down the unlighted Row, past the deserted fra 
 ternity houses on, past the post-office, and McNear 
 pulled up under the oaks near the Inn. He tied the 
 horses, and went in to telephone to the stable, while 
 Miss Howard, walking over to the Quad, stamped 
 up and down in an effort to get warm. She was stiff 
 and lame from the long drive, and the sharp air had 
 made her terribly cold. 
 
 The red fire of the Inner Quad had burned itself 
 out, and people were pouring over to the old base 
 ball field. An endless procession of Stanford rooters 
 swung madly through the long arcades, while the 
 band played feverishly before. Staid Campus and 
 Palo Alto-ites, who had elbowed each other impa- 
 
 [147]
 
 NOf INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 tiently for a better place to see, came off the Quad 
 linked arm in arm in the mad serpentine. 
 
 Miss Howard was thinking with a sense of bitter 
 ness how different it might all have been. There 
 was a trying bit of irony in the fact that it was she 
 who had kept Jim McNear up to his duty until 
 the eleventh hour. And then, looking up, she saw 
 Duncan with a bunch of football men, slipping 
 quietly along behind the rooters in an effort to be 
 inconspicuous. The girl stepped back into the 
 shadow of a pillar. She felt strangely out of place 
 there, standing off as she did from the enthusiasm of 
 it all. But Duncan had seen her. He stopped as 
 the other men went on. 
 
 "Get separated from the rest? " he queried. "I 
 saw a lot of them hurrying along after the band. 
 Looked as if they d like to serpentine themselves," 
 Duncan smiled with amusement. 
 
 "No, I didn t come with the girls." Miss How 
 ard got the words out jerkily. She was wondering 
 what she should say next. 
 
 "What did you think of the Rally?" Duncan 
 was asking her. "Rousing, wasn t it?" 
 
 "I didn t see it," Miss Howard confessed awk 
 wardly. The blushing confusion on her face was
 
 DEDICATE TO PLA^O 
 
 condemning as McNear came across the road a mo 
 ment later and ran up the steps. 
 
 "Sorry to have kept you," he started apologeti 
 cally. Then he stopped. It was evident to Miss 
 Howard in the uncomfortable pause that followed 
 how thoroughly McNear s dislike was reciprocated. 
 And Duncan was visibly embarrassed. 
 
 "Where have you been keeping yourself, Mc 
 Near ? " he asked quietly. "Had an accident 4 ? " 
 There was understanding in his face as he glanced 
 inquiringly from the man to the girl. 
 
 "Yes, sort of," was McNear s non-committal 
 reply. 
 
 "It s beastly luck on you, McNear. Stuart s put 
 me in, you know. But " 
 
 "Of course! " McNear s tone as he broke in on 
 the other man was intended to imply a conclusion of 
 the conversation. 
 
 Duncan, turning on his heel to go, looked over at 
 Miss Howard. Then he said simply, "I m mighty 
 sorry, McNear. Your work has put it over me all 
 season. No one knows that better than I." 
 
 McNear took it as the conventional commonplace 
 which the occasion demanded. He even suspected a 
 mocking note in the other man s generosity. 
 
 "It s my own doing," he said bluntly. There was 
 
 [ H9]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 a dogged expression in the corners of his mouth, and 
 he regarded Duncan caustically. 
 
 Miss Howard looked uncomfortably from one to 
 the other. "You know that it s my fault entirely," 
 she said brokenly as she turned to McNear. "I ll 
 never forgive myself, never " 
 
 "Nonsense, Frances!" McNear s voice was al 
 most harsh. He could not tolerate a scene there be 
 fore Duncan. 
 
 "Well, you d better agree on the culprit tomor 
 row." Duncan laughed forcedly, as, taking his clue, 
 he half turned to go. "Rather raw night for a hospi 
 tal subject, isn t it? " 
 
 Miss Howard retorted to the challenge with an 
 attempted lightness. Down the long arcade she 
 watched his tall, alert figure as he hurried after the 
 other men. Duncan was one of those men who stand 
 out any place. And he had held the mastery of 
 every situation she had ever seen him in. She was 
 annoyed with Jim for the childishness he had 
 shown. What could Duncan think of him? She 
 understood, of course she even, with the inconsist 
 ency of woman, found him more attractive because 
 of it. But the situation had certainly been humili 
 
 ating. 
 
 Over on the old baseball diamond the Berkeley
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 effigy burned merrily over a rousing bonfire. Women 
 and children scrambled for seats on the bleachers or 
 pushed up expectantly to form a circle about the fire. 
 If there were any Stanford men who had not joined 
 in the serpentine, they had vanished discreetly and 
 shamefacedly from sight. Only the men of the 
 team were in evidence on the outskirts of the circle, 
 where they stood about in little groups awkwardly 
 self-conscious, their hearts swelling with something 
 indefinable that was partly a responsibility to Stan 
 ford and partly a sense of personal pride. 
 
 McNear and the girl sauntered over and stood 
 quietly in the background. They had a feeling that 
 they had been away a very long time. Chagrin and 
 bitter disappointment had mastered McNear s face 
 in spite of himself, and Miss Howard s unhappi- 
 ness so nearly bordered on tears that she longed to 
 flee. Besides, she was shivering cold, and the glow 
 from the crackling fire, which lit up the lines of 
 students who swung round and round it, was tan 
 talizing at that distance. She had better get home, 
 she thought. She was weak and upset. 
 
 "You may come over and have tea with me to 
 morrow afternoon," she said kindly as they started 
 across the field toward the Row. 
 
 McNear was thinking of Stuart and the men he
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 had trained with all season. He pictured them driv 
 ing off to Woodside in the morning for their day of 
 rest in the hills without him. He did not realize 
 that he had not answered the girl, and looked up 
 with a start when she asked suddenly with a more 
 insistent note in her voice, "You ll see Mr. Stuart 
 tonight, won t you, Jim, to explain"? " 
 
 McNear, although he dreaded the ordeal he was 
 to face, assured her with disarming bravado that he 
 would run over and find Stuart the moment he 
 left her. 
 
 "You may come some time tomorrow if you like." 
 They had reached the Madrofia porch, and he stood 
 on the step below her. She was smiling down at him 
 sweetly as she offered her second invitation. 
 
 Then, because he was very tired and disappointed, 
 McNear had found himself again pleading a for 
 bidden subject in the silence of the deserted porch, 
 and Miss Howard, distrusting her sympathy, had 
 gone in suddenly and shut the door. 
 
 Down in the same little room off the diet-kitchen 
 where she had made her first acquaintance with the 
 Guild, Miss Howard amused herself by watching 
 the nurses pass to and fro in the halls. She had 
 been "shipped back" as a result of the exposure of 
 her drive, and lay fretting over the luck that had
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 kept her shut in during these last two days which she 
 had meant to spend with McNear. 
 
 The violets he had sent her that morning with his 
 note were on the table beside her. She pulled the 
 glass over to her and smelled them perfunctorily. 
 Poor boy, he was very unhappy ! Even the fact that 
 Stuart, relenting, had put him in as a sub, did not 
 seem to console him. "There was no other man for 
 the place," he had written her bitterly. Only on his 
 return from Woodside in the evening had he learned 
 that she was ill again. It was the last drop in his 
 misery. If only he could have had her with him 
 after the game tonight! 
 
 Miss Howard closed her eyes wearily. The un- 
 happiness of the last few days was exaggerated in 
 her mind until it seemed to reflect a miserable dis 
 content on even her brightest college memories. 
 
 The restless buzz and excitement that characterize 
 the day of the big game had penetrated even the 
 quiet seclusion of the Guild. Every one who was con 
 valescent enough to be up and about had already 
 departed Campus-ward. The vibration of unrest in 
 the air irritated Miss Howard. She did not want to 
 think of the game. She was devoutly glad that she 
 had been spared the misery of watching it from the
 
 NOf INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 bleachers, and the outcome did not hold for her the 
 slightest interest. 
 
 There was a commotion in the hall. An injured 
 football man had been brought in. Miss Howard, 
 with a curious lack of interest, watched him carried 
 past her door. She found herself wondering bitterly 
 why McNear could not have had his chance, even to 
 be brought in like that on a stretcher. 
 
 Then the decision of the game was being noised 
 about a big Stanford victory, with Berkeley out 
 played from the start. There had been games and 
 games, but Stuart himself admitted never one like 
 this. 
 
 The "Daily" was out already with a full account. 
 Miss Jennings, her nurse, had brought it in to her 
 with her last medicine, and the girl had thanked 
 her with feigned enthusiasm. So it was all over 
 then, and Jim was having his fight out, alone. 
 
 Miss Howard s eye ran automatically down the 
 columns of the first page : 
 
 "A novel feature of display offered by the Stan 
 ford rooting section was the lavish shower of con 
 fetti which cleverly covered the formation of the 
 block "S." As the homing pigeons, flaunting the 
 glory of the cardinal " 
 
 A couple of noisy college men stomped by her
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 door to the ward in the corner, where a bunch of 
 husky bronchitis victims cursed their fate roundly. 
 Miss Howard looked up with annoyance. Then 
 there came the buzz of impatient voices asking a 
 dozen questions at once. The spectacular points of 
 the game were being described for them graphically 
 in voices that were hoarse from yelling. Miss How 
 ard heard it all as plainly as if she had been in 
 the room. 
 
 "Gee, the minute he got his hands on it, too ! " 
 Some one with a deep, hoarse voice was speaking, 
 "That punt wipes his slate clean with Stuart, all 
 right!" 
 
 "You bet!" the other man retorted. "And he 
 was down after it like a shot passed old Powers as 
 if he was hitched. And say, didn t the California 
 fullback look sick when he punted in to touch? 
 McNear knew we d get them on the throw-in every 
 time." 
 
 Miss Howard sat up in bed with a start and lis 
 tened deliberately. She could not be mistaken. 
 
 "Lucky devil, wasn t he to get in at that stage 
 of the game, too! " 
 
 "Duncan badly hurt 1 ? " some one asked. "What s 
 the trouble bum knee again? " 
 
 "No," the hoarse voice corrected, "internal 
 
 [155]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 injuries, Williams says. Must be pretty bad when 
 he couldn t stick it out five minutes longer." 
 
 "Oh, well, with a score like that he could afford 
 to get out, and besides, McNear has been the better 
 man all season. There wasn t any risk." 
 
 "Maybe givin McNear a chance for his S, 
 another speculated. 
 
 "Not much! " There was a loud guffaw at the 
 mere suggestion, and the hoarse voice finished con 
 vincingly, "No love lost there, I can tell you." 
 
 Miss Howard reached for the bell on her table 
 and rang it impatiently. Her anxiety over Mr. 
 Duncan was the flaw in her happiness for Jim. 
 
 "Tell me, Miss Jennings," she asked eagerly, as 
 the nurse appeared in the doorway, "was it Mr. Dun 
 can they brought in a little while ago 4 ? Is he badly 
 hurt"? " She had followed up Miss Jennings s 
 affirmative with anxious interest. 
 
 "He seems very comfortable just at present." 
 
 "Do you think he could read a note a very little 
 one?" 
 
 There was a smile of amusement on Miss Jen 
 nings s face as she answered. "I think he might be 
 able to. He was roaring over one of the old doctor s 
 jokes when I came out." 
 
 Miss Howard looked puzzled for a moment.
 
 DEDICATE TO PLATO 
 
 Then she fixed her eyes on the good-natured face in 
 the doorway and asked slowly, "Just what is the 
 matter with Mr. Duncan, do you know? " 
 
 "Internal injuries is as definite as they have 
 made it yet, I think," Miss Jennings replied with an 
 evasive unconcern, as she came over to the bed and 
 put the thermometer in Miss Howard s mouth. 
 
 With her brow puckered in perplexed thought, 
 Miss Howard was gazing straight ahead of her at 
 the bare white wall at the foot of her bed. A sus 
 picion as to the seriousness of Duncan s injuries had 
 crossed her mind. She wondered if she could justify 
 it to her own satisfaction. 
 
 "You will come back in a few minutes, won t 
 you to take my note? " she called after Miss Jen 
 nings as she left the room. 
 
 She reviewed the situation from the beginning; 
 she was confident that she had guessed the truth. It 
 added twofold to her happiness over Jim. She won 
 dered if Jim realized if it made him a little 
 ashamed. 
 
 There were tears in the girl s eyes as she watched 
 the nurse go down the corridor with her note. The 
 thought of Duncan s generosity moved her strangely. 
 The act itself she was convinced of, but the why 
 that was what interested her most ! It was consistent 
 
 [ 57]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 with Miss Howard s femininity that the final analy 
 sis she made of the motive in the situation was one 
 that flattered as well as moved her. It was an 
 analysis which she would not have confided to Mc- 
 Near. And after all, in a matter of motive, one 
 could only speculate. 
 
 Miss Howard was biting meditatively at the end 
 of the pencil she still held in her hand, when the 
 nurse stopped to leave her Duncan s answer. She 
 opened it quickly and read. 
 
 Dear Miss Howard, 
 
 Thanks for your kind inquiries. My "internal 
 injuries" might be worse. I expect to be back at 
 the Quad on Monday. 
 
 You are perhaps pleased that McNear got to 
 play, and he certainly made the most of his chance. 
 It was very good of you to write. 
 Sincerely, 
 
 WILLIAM DUNCAN. 
 
 In bewildered uncertainty Miss Howard read the 
 note over again. She considered it speculatively for 
 several moments. It was a challenge to her woman s 
 intuition! The motive was not so patent as she 
 had thought. Critically, word by word, she went 
 over it again, and there was nothing that gave a
 
 DEDICATE rO PLATO 
 
 clew. She folded the letter up impatiently as if it 
 tantalized her beyond endurance. Besides, why 
 should she bother when she had Jim and all the un 
 expected happiness of today 4 ? With a sudden in 
 spiration, she picked up her pencil from the table. 
 The baffled look in her eyes melted into one of al 
 most tenderness, and a satisfied little smile played 
 about the corners of her mouth as she wrote with 
 slow precision across the back of Duncan s note, 
 "Dedicate to Plato."
 
 Rulers of
 
 THE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 A small group of men stood on the side steps of 
 the Quad, opposite the Inn. It was ten or fifteen 
 minutes before the calling of Professor Reed s popu 
 lar course, and the students whacked their heels, 
 gazed down the arcades, and indulged in laconic talk, 
 as they basked contentedly in the sun. 
 
 "Where s your Junior Plug, Warrington?" The 
 questioner tipped his own well-battered one rakishly 
 on the side of his head, and ostentatiously displayed 
 his lately acquired corduroys. He was looking up 
 at a slender fellow, who stood with his flat hat well 
 pulled down over his eyes. 
 
 "Half Junior, half Soph, Dunne," the other re 
 plied, with no show of interest, as he jotted down 
 something on a slip of paper. 
 
 "Flunked your class, eh*?" Dunne asked, with a 
 yawn. "Writing another scandal?" No reply 
 vouchsafed, he continued unperturbed. "A fierce 
 drag, that newspaper work keeps a fellow chasing 
 the mazuma don t see why you play city cor 
 respondent, Warrington, when the Governor coughs 
 up the carfare."
 
 NOT: INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Aw, cut it out, Dunne!" groaned another, 
 "you ve just made the staff of the S quoia yourself." 
 
 Dunne affected a wry face. "By golly, Jim, I 
 didn t want it. The fellows in the house boosted " 
 He dropped the subject, upon noticing that Jim s 
 interest seemed centered on the toe of his modish 
 shoe. 
 
 The day, and the enchanting laziness of the 
 weather, fitted in well with the temporary lull in 
 undergraduate affairs. Intercollegiate events had 
 not reached the point for desperate intensity of feel 
 ing, the editorials of the various papers had been 
 mild, the faculty had been quite unobtrusive, and 
 no exes were hanging, like the sword of Damocles, 
 over these men of affairs. 
 
 Attention was indolent and sporadic until Dunne, 
 with an indicative turn of his thumb, piped up: 
 "Oh, wake up, fellers. Look what s coming." 
 Every one craned, even McCallister, who was 
 propped against the pillar. A girl, arm akimbo with 
 books, was mincing along in military heels. 
 
 "Gee, she ought to wear boots, she interferes," 
 said Joe Bailey, twisting his head to take away the 
 ache resulting from an attempt to see around an 
 obstruction. 
 
 "Begorra, fellers," Shorty Oliver fell naturally
 
 <THE RULERS OF 3HE REALM 
 
 into the dialect, "but did ye notice the soize of the 
 hat and the mess o chicken feathers !" 
 
 "I reckon she s going to the city," another drawled. 
 
 "Don t you forget it, she s trying to make a hit 
 with me." McCallister swelled his chest and looked 
 important. 
 
 "You re devilish impertinent," Warrington spoke 
 abruptly. 
 
 "Never you mind, old fellow," the other retorted, 
 tauntingly, "we all know about the girl you re trying 
 to make a hit with. Gee! Here comes the scout 
 now!" 
 
 Max Warrington turned in his nervous way to 
 catch the eye of Marion Hughes, and flushed slightly 
 as he lifted his hat at her smile of recognition. The 
 others bowed to the extent of tipping their various 
 forms of headgear slightly more forward. Dunne 
 watched her critically as she walked calmly around 
 the corner. There was a certain poise in her bearing 
 that always drew attention and admiration. "She s 
 more than an ornament to the staff, I reckon." 
 
 "You bet she is!" The roof of Encina Hall 
 seemed to hold an attraction for McCallister s nar 
 rowed eyes, as he continued. "She s mighty keen on 
 writing. I went to High with her she ran things 
 there without seeming to one of those people
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 that s a wiz and popular has everything come her 
 way." 
 
 Dunne, struck v/ith an inspiration, straightened 
 his hat and sat up. "She can t follow that course 
 here, the place is too big. I ll bet a dollar she s lay 
 ing wire for the editorship of the S quoia. The 
 way she s digging s proof enough for that." 
 
 The group were all interested as McCal lister s 
 hand came down resoundingly on Dunne s back. 
 "Got more brains than I thought for, old fellow. 
 I ll stand by you, Max, if you get the girl to run," 
 he added, jokingly, with a sly wink at the other men. 
 
 "I hadn t thought of it," Warrington answered, 
 with a quick look at their unresponsive faces. "You 
 fellows are witnesses to the statement of the said 
 Mac," he added with a laugh, as he made a sweeping 
 gesture toward the unperturbed McCallister. 
 
 Perhaps McCallister would have been more chary 
 of committing himself could he have seen Warring- 
 ton and Marion Hughes at the Lambda Eta House 
 that evening. After begging for two dances in suc 
 cession, Warrington led her to a corner of the 
 canvassed-in porch, well out of earshot of any others 
 with a similar inclination. 
 
 "It s unaccountable, Max, your wanting to sit out 
 a dance," Marion said, smiling up at him, as he 
 
 [166]
 
 RULERS OF ?HE REALM 
 
 placed a cushion for her. The music was drifting 
 enticingly through the door, accentuated by the 
 rhythm of feet. Warrington only settled himself 
 back and looked around contentedly at the attractive 
 arrangement of rugs, seats, and gay cushions, under 
 the dim glow of a dozen or more Japanese lanterns. 
 "With thee beside me, wilderness were Paradise 
 enow," he chanted. 
 
 Marion laughed in the pleasing way that made 
 her so attractive, although she did not neglect the 
 chance of reminding him, as she tapped her foot on 
 the floor in time to the music: "I can t sing, and 
 where is the jug of wine and loaf of bread? You 
 know, when I made that trite remark about pre 
 ferring to dance rather than eat, you disagreed with 
 me." 
 
 Finally, Warrington drew himself together and 
 turned the conversation toward journalism until he 
 dared to ask, as he scanned her face carefully for any 
 betraying change of expression : "Why do you work 
 so hard with the magazine*? Do you think the game 
 is worth the candle?" 
 
 "I like it," she answered, with a frank look and 
 smile, "and I am probably more willing or prompt 
 with stories, so I have a good deal shoved on to me. 
 Why? 
 
 [167]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Well," he hesitated for an instant, "there is a 
 rumour going around here that you re striking for 
 the editorship next year." 
 
 "The editorship !" she exclaimed. "I aim for the 
 editorship ! It would be pure foolhardiness." 
 
 "Why not? he asked, calmly. 
 
 " Why is the sea not boiling hot, and why don t 
 pigs have wings *? " she answered, in a lazy voice, 
 her eyes following Elizabeth and Sam Trent, as they 
 walked to the other end of the porch. 
 
 "Now, see here, Marion, I m in earnest." 
 
 "Oh, well," she replied, her mood changing from 
 lightness to the serious, "my career has not been at 
 all remarkable just a matter of hard work. There s 
 no use in a girl trying, anyway there would be such 
 a horrible sentiment against her among the men. 
 Besides, look at the last two years. The election is 
 what you d call a slate, wouldn t you, and who d 
 ever stand for a girl? Max, it s foolish. There 
 would be no hope, if I did consider it." 
 
 "Suppose there were hope 1 ?" There was a vibra 
 tion of assurance in his voice that made Marion look 
 at him doubtfully. 
 
 "What do you mean 1 ?" 
 
 "Just this," striking his palm for emphasis, "you 
 
 [168]
 
 THE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 are the most capable person on the staff, and every 
 body knows it, and the men that could run " 
 
 "I m afraid they would call you an interested 
 party," she interrupted, lightly. 
 
 "It s true, though," he held out tenaciously. "Ask 
 Bailey, Dunne, McCallister, and lots of the men." 
 
 "I shall start out tomorrow," she said, laughing, 
 "and test all I happen to know. There s Mr. Baker 
 at the Chemistry Building he d be good for the dig 
 element, also Mr. Edel, Zoology major; to say noth 
 ing of representatives from the Row, Encina and 
 Paly. Whom do you think I had better talk to from 
 the Theta Phi Sigma House 1 ? Do you represent the 
 sentiment of the Hall? 
 
 "Really, Marion," he returned, gravely, "I was 
 never more serious in my life. Suppose several of 
 us felt so sure of your chances that we would offer 
 to stand by you then what 4 ?" 
 
 "I I can t believe it," she said, incredulously. 
 "It would be too great to be true." 
 
 "It s settled, then." Warrington s voice was de 
 cisive. "Let s finish out the dance." 
 
 Quiet reigned in the back room at Menlo, famed 
 for its name-carved tables, the favourite roster of 
 generations of the side-step philosophers of the Quad, 
 and boasting the signatures of some who have reached 
 
 [169]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 recognition and of many who have gone only to swell 
 the nameless multitude. For years the place has been 
 known in annal and current lore for the incubation 
 of weighty plans toward the betterment of the affairs 
 of the red-tiled principality, as well as for the up 
 roarious jollifications that desire to take the Campus 
 into confidence in the homeward, wee hours of the 
 morning. It is rampant with politics, and is invari 
 ably chosen by these rulers of the realm for the mak 
 ing of propositions that involve prolonged argument 
 and persuasion. Perhaps the countless reminiscences 
 for the man who has brought down his hand with 
 the accompanying jingle of glasses may have some 
 thing to do with its popularity on such occasions. 
 
 This sleepy autumn afternoon, however, some sur 
 prise was manifest when four men, headed by War- 
 rington, filed into the back room. An inquiry con 
 cerning the unusual time for a meeting of the Press 
 Club, was met by Bailey with a wink and a motion 
 toward Warrington. "He s made a strike of two 
 kopeks from the Governor today. Keep the fellows 
 in the front room, especially the Swede. He s a 
 human megaphone, ain t it so, South ack*? " 
 
 "You bet." 
 
 "Where s McCallister gone?" asked Chandler, 
 looking around in some surprise. 
 
 [ 170]
 
 RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 "Had to give us the drop going queening," War- 
 rington answered, with a conscious sinking of his 
 spirits as he caught the amused glance of Bailey and 
 looked into the cynical face of Southack. He was 
 beginning to feel that it was a rash impulse that had 
 prompted his putting up Marion at the suggestion of 
 the absent McCallister. Nevertheless, seasoned poli 
 tician that he was, quailing at nothing other than the 
 committee on scholarship, it was with a steady hand 
 that he raised his glass to the pledge of "Here s to 
 luck!" 
 
 "Why in the devil," he added an instant later, 
 glaring at Chandler, "don t you drink 4 ?" 
 
 Chandler had whipped out his knife, and was cut 
 ting away a name from the table, with his lips tightly 
 compressed. "It s a beastly shame, fellows I d like 
 to fix the man who isn t decent enough to leave a 
 girl s name off this table." 
 
 "To the moralist," Southack sneered, holding up 
 his refilled glass. 
 
 "He s right." Bailey pushed down Southack s 
 arm. "Ever hear about her trying to make the Press 
 Club member ex-loco, of course. Well, some dub 
 at the Daily office suggested it all in a joke, and, 
 will you believe it, she took the whole business as 
 gospel truth. She did some tall wire-pulling with a 
 
 [171]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 few of us, and gave me thunder because she didn t 
 make it." The others laughed. 
 
 "You can bet Marion Hughes, even though she 
 seems to have ambitions, wouldn t do a fool thing 
 like that," said Southack, with a quick look at War- 
 rington. The latter made no reply. 
 
 Finally Warrington felt that he held the mood 
 and the opportunity. 
 
 "Fellows," he began, leaning forward in the con 
 fidential manner of his, assumed on such occasions, 
 "we ve done a lot of things together, and you know 
 that I m not the man to beat around matters " 
 
 Bailey was impatient. "Southack is the only fel 
 low who s allowed the privilege of a preamble 
 around here." The latter grinned and saluted 
 Bailey, who headed him off. "You re not so al 
 mighty dense, Max, as to think we don t know 
 you ve got a deal on hand." 
 
 "A dead man s hand or queens on the roof at 
 least," suggested Southack. 
 
 "They say two aces and two eights can never be 
 beat." 
 
 "I m well, I guess I m drawing to a royal flush, 
 fellows," Warrington said, hesitatingly, and in 
 blundering words and an uncertain voice proposed 
 the candidacy of Marion Hughes.
 
 ?HE RULERS OF <?HE REALM 
 
 There was a dead silence around the table, each 
 man thoughtfully rubbing the water-vapour off the 
 outside of his glass. Joe Bailey, with a twinkle in 
 his eye, was the first to break it. "Why don t you 
 put up a man?" 
 
 "Not one of them has got a claim." Warrington 
 spoke with emphasis. 
 
 "What about yourself?" asked Chandler in his 
 slow voice, his face brightening at the thought of a 
 solution. 
 
 "Too much work next year, eighteen hours, city 
 correspondent, and expect to get the Associated 
 Press." Warrington compressed his lips and Chand 
 ler s face fell. 
 
 "No, I guess you can t," he admitted, reluctantly. 
 "The only other man on the staff who is eligible is 
 Herbert Dunne." 
 
 "Just made it," Bailey interrupted. "He does 
 bum work. Besides, he s a hand-me-down that San 
 Jose bunch in the Hall call him Shambly Dunne. 
 
 "Don t worry about him," Warrington added, 
 with assurance, "he s too indolent and doesn t care 
 a hang about the business." 
 
 "Shorty Oliver has been scouting around me 
 lately," volunteered Southack. 
 
 [ 173]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Why, he hasn t done a blooming thing on the 
 paper." 
 
 "He s banking on fraternity pull and popularity," 
 Bailey explained. 
 
 "It s a cinch he has bigger chances than Dunne. 
 Politician Southy can give you a tip on that." 
 Southack indicated himself with a gesture. 
 
 "You needn t bother about him." There was a 
 meaning look in Warrington s face, and Southack. 
 with a responsive grin, raised his hand and pressed 
 his thumb down on the table. "He s cinched." 
 
 "There is no getting around it," Warrington con 
 tinued, earnestly, "Miss Hughes is the only one with 
 a good claim and there is no denying she is a good 
 deal more capable. I tell you, she d get out a live 
 magazine none of this molly-coddle business even 
 though she is a woman." 
 
 "Say," Bailey drawled, as he leaned over to 
 Chandler, "Dr. Robinson might take a few notes on 
 eloquence around here." 
 
 "Wouldn t need a syllabus sheet either." 
 
 "Come, fellows, this is no josh." Warrington 
 frowned. "We newspaper men have got to recognize 
 a claim. We can t stand back and let any dub with 
 an ambition think he can hit the high places without 
 serving his apprenticeship on the papers." 
 
 [174]
 
 THE RULERS OF <?HE REALM 
 
 "Well, now you re talking." Bailey was appre 
 ciative. 
 
 "Suppose we don t come in with you on the 
 proposition, what then 4 ?" Southack asked, with nar 
 rowed eyes. 
 
 Warrington straightened. "McCallister and I 
 forced her into the thing, and, by George ! we ll stand 
 by her, even if we have to fight the whole ki-yi-ing 
 push of you, with the Bear Club clawing. We ll 
 put up the biggest fight this college has ever seen." 
 
 Bailey s eyes snapped with the fire of battle. "Put 
 it there, Warrington," he said, as he extended his 
 hand, "I m not keen on a girl, but by Sammie, it 
 will be a great fight, and you can bet I m there with 
 you! We ll show them that the S quoia can kick 
 as well as the Daily. We ll go down in history, we 
 will." 
 
 "You caught in the meshes, too." Southack 
 laughed, harshly. "We might expect Warrington 
 to get tangled, but you " 
 
 "Clap your wings and crow three times; you think 
 you re too clever to live, don t you 1 ?" Bailey had 
 difficulty in turning his anger to sarcasm, goaded as 
 he was by Southack s taunt. 
 
 "Well, in all seriousness," the other returned, 
 mockingly, "a girl s no business to run for the editor-
 
 ship of anything in this college, trying to cut out 
 the men. She d better stay by the Y. W. work, 
 basket-ball, or write a few sweet, wishy-washy tales 
 for the S quoia. I don t stand for any of their 
 advanced notions." 
 
 Chandler, who had listened for the last few mo 
 ments without comment, turned in his calm way to 
 Warrington. "I don t approve of a girl mixing in 
 politics it s below her dignity I m not raising any 
 question about rights, understand." 
 
 "She s to have nothing to do with the political 
 end of the business we ll manage all that," War 
 rington replied, hastily. "All she s got to do is to 
 be popular. Lord, I wouldn t dare to tell her the 
 way politics are worked in this University, you d 
 have her balk on the start." 
 
 "Politics by proxy, eh*? That s your game, is 
 it? " sneered Southack. 
 
 "Well," said Chandler, musingly, "we re face to 
 face with the alternative of claim or no claim. Miss 
 Hughes seems exceptional, and as for Herbert Dunne 
 or Shorty Oliver nothing doing. I ll come in with 
 you two, Warrington." 
 
 Southack seemed impressed, for Chandler had the 
 reputation of a conservative as Bailey that of a 
 radical. 
 
 [176]
 
 RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 "Good Heavens, Southack," Warrington brought 
 his fist down on the table, his patience at an end, 
 "you re not going to stand for Dunne! Don t you 
 see we re up against it? You re a man of influence, 
 and straddling the fence will kill you. Besides, don t 
 you forget that when we three back anything, it 
 means business and a cinch that the odds will be on 
 our side. You ve had experience before you know 
 what it means to stand in with us. Consider it in 
 this light you ll come to the rest later when the 
 fight s on." 
 
 The sneer still remained on Southack s face, and 
 Warrington was turning over in his mind the ad 
 visability, after what had just been said, of pledging 
 him to neutrality, when Herbert Dunne sauntered 
 into the room. 
 
 "Hello, fellows," he said, in his assuming man 
 ner, "been lookin for your phizzes everywhere 
 Row, Quad, Library even went to Paly and spotted 
 queeners. Hi, there, another round something 
 good and cold." 
 
 "Sit down, old man," said Southack, "what s on 
 your mind?" 
 
 "I m doing politics, fellows. I m going to run 
 for the Squalor, " replied Dunne. "The field s an 
 open cinch the only person with a claim s a girl. 
 
 [ 177]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 I may have to fight Oliver he s got a pull. Gee, 
 I m in luck to get hold of you four together. Jim 
 Brown says you always hold together and you ve got 
 the say-so around here." 
 
 Warrington looked at him in well-feigned as 
 tonishment. "Good Lord, Dunne, I thought you 
 hated newspaper work you were frank enough 
 about it the other day." 
 
 "So I do," the other answered, carelessly, "but 
 the assembled fratres have decreed otherwise they 
 say it s a cinch this year no big man and they ll 
 work their shoe leather off for me. Not so bad, this 
 posing business. I ll make a hit with the girls." 
 
 "What about the magazine*?" Chandler asked, 
 abruptly. 
 
 "A good staff can take care of that," he replied, 
 screwing up his face, as he ran his tongue over a 
 tightly rolled cigarette and reached for a match. 
 The other men exchanged glances and Warrington 
 knew, from the expression on his face, that Southack 
 was with him. 
 
 Thus it came about that the foundation of Marion 
 Hughes s political campaign was laid by the four 
 most influential men in newspaper and political 
 circles. 
 
 When Warrington reported the results of the 
 
 [178]
 
 THE RULERS OF ?HE REALM 
 
 Menlo meeting to Marion, and observed the shocked 
 expression on her face, he was rather taken aback. 
 
 "Do you mean to say that they talked about me 
 in a place like that 4 ? Why, Max! You ought not 
 to have let them!" 
 
 Warrington muttered something about politics 
 being an excuse for almost anything, and Marion 
 continued even more aghast. "Why, it s awful! 
 I m going to drop out now, before I get into any 
 more of it. Why did you persuade me?" she asked, 
 reproachfully. 
 
 It was a strenuous half-hour that Warrington 
 faced, when he undertook to explain the devious 
 methods and ethics of politics to an unworldly-wise 
 girl. He finally half-way gained her to the point 
 of view that politics always had been and always 
 would be a game of warfare, with small quarter 
 shown, and must be accepted as a necessary evil with 
 the gifts of a democracy. He glossed over the many 
 disagreeable details of a campaign and the methods 
 resorted to by both sides, and continued to emphasize 
 to Marion that she must consider her candidacy as 
 purely impersonal. So persuasive and logical was 
 he, that the girl was finally able to regard even the 
 meeting at Menlo with a calmness of mind that 
 surprised her. It was from her confidence in 
 
 [ 179]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Warrington, however, and not from any clear under 
 standing of politics as explained by him, that Marion 
 accepted the facts. 
 
 As Warrington was leaving, he stopped and 
 smiled broadly: "Chandler, with his cool, calculating 
 head, believes me to be the extreme of rashness and 
 hot-headedness calls me the campaign fire-eater." 
 
 "Unfeeling wretch!" Marion laughed. "You re 
 a sphinx in comparison with most of the men the 
 one you call the Swede, for instance. I see him 
 exploding on some street corner two or three times 
 a day." 
 
 "He s the josh in politics. Anyway, the noble 
 Chandler insists on giving you instructions on your 
 conduct during the campaign. I suppose he ll insist 
 upon your being on hand all the time around here. 
 There s one thing, though you ve got to give me 
 two all-day drives next spring, election or no elec 
 tion." 
 
 Marion smiled evasively. 
 
 A surprise was in store for the men of the realm 
 with the opening of the spring semester. The editor 
 of the "Sequoia" had flunked, and Max Warrington 
 had been appointed temporarily until the special 
 election to be held two weeks later. Special elec 
 tions almost always contain dramatic possibilities, 
 
 [180]
 
 <?HE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 and excitement is as the nectar of the gods to the 
 insatiable collegian. It was not until the philoso 
 phers of the Quad had passed on their surmises to 
 other circles that Herbert Dunne awoke to the fact 
 that the college had accepted Marion Hughes s can 
 didacy without ridicule. It was a case where a 
 laugh would have killed, and the Campus had for 
 gotten even to smile. He further discovered that 
 Shorty Oliver had dropped out of the fight and to 
 all questioning would only respond with a grin and 
 a slow, knowing screw of his eye. 
 
 Dunne was soon informed of the why and the 
 wherefore. He had deluded himself into believing, 
 as one of the fratres had expressed it, that he held 
 the ball, well backed by his fraternity, and with a 
 clear opening down the field through the dis 
 organized forces of Oliver. Instead, he found with 
 astonishment that he was bucking the consolidated 
 line-up of the four big men in college, with his only 
 chance a sensational run around the end. He de 
 termined on a dash for this, and, by every means at 
 hand, he and his followers threw themselves into 
 heaping up the bigotry of opposition to a woman 
 editor. 
 
 "Say, Dunne," Bailey called out from a group
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 on the road by the French building, "you look wor 
 ried. What s the matter?" 
 
 "Guess he s finding the fight no cinch," added 
 another one to his neighbour, as he looked up. 
 Dunne merely shrugged his shoulders, and laughed. 
 
 Not two hours later Bailey, with an anxious face, 
 sought out Warrington at Joe Larkin s. "We re 
 up against it, Max," he exclaimed, disgustedly. 
 "Dunne and his bunch have been quietly knocking 
 out our talk about a claim say the real reason is 
 because you ve got a case on the girl. Gee, he s 
 covered his tracks cleverly. I d like to sliver his head 
 for him." 
 
 Warrington drew in a whistling breath, and 
 frowned thoughtfully. 
 
 Marion for her part found it no easy matter to 
 assume an expression of unconcern as she walked 
 the Quad, conscious of the glances of the curious 
 and the scrutiny of the other side. She had bravely 
 held to the part outlined by Chandler early in the 
 previous semester, to be "nimble of sight and 
 speech," to avoid conversation on politics, and to 
 devote her energies to becoming known. She talked 
 to people between classes, she attended scrupulously 
 all meetings and receptions, and, above all, remem 
 bered after introductions to bow the next day on the 
 
 [182]
 
 THE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 Quad. It had all been easy enough to do, and even 
 exhilarating, when no one had suspected the motives 
 that prompted her in seeking popularity. She had 
 also quieted her conscience with the thought that 
 every member of the University should strive for a 
 broad acquaintance. But in this last week, when 
 the college had come to talk of her candidacy, she 
 found herself shrinking from the conspicuousness of 
 her position, and she could not crush the feeling that 
 she was stamped with insincerity in the eyes of many 
 to whom she bowed and smiled. 
 
 "The ship s under full rig, nor-norwest breeze," 
 McCallister cried cheerily, as he came up with 
 Marion two days before the election. He had 
 offered, with ill-concealed pleasure, to take War- 
 rington s place as ambassador from the four after 
 Bailey had made his report at Joe Larkin s. 
 
 "That s good," she replied. 
 
 "We were looking over the lists last night," he 
 explained. "It s going to be a pretty close run, but 
 you ll have the winnings. Southack claims he can 
 split the Hall. Chandler says that the Row will run 
 high for Dunne, as a couple of sororities are against 
 you." 
 
 "Margaret Sears asked me to tell you that there 
 will be a good majority in Roble." 
 
 [183]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "That reminds me, if I don t see her, tell her to 
 look out for Miss Jackson and that bunch Dunne s 
 fraternity s keen on the queening stunt. Then Bailey 
 can handle San Jose. That makes things come out 
 even and throws the whole fight on Paly. If War- 
 rington can t carry a majority there, I ll eat my hat." 
 
 Marion puckered her forehead thoughtfully. "I 
 am really terribly worried." 
 
 "Why, Heavens ! Marion, you ve got it practically 
 cinched!" 
 
 She turned her head and weighed some thought 
 in her mind, while McCallister studied her profile 
 with an expression that was far from disinterested. 
 "I I hope I m wrong," she said, hesitatingly and 
 without looking at him, "but I m afraid there is 
 something the matter with Max Warrington he 
 acts as if he were not at all interested in the cam 
 paign. He hasn t been around for a week and a 
 half and he avoids me on the Quad. I haven t once 
 been able to get him by phone. Do you think I 
 have offended him*?" 
 
 McCallister looked uneasy. He had never men 
 tioned to her the rumours or the details of the cam 
 paign and did not have the courage now to tell the 
 truth that Warrington was trying to sidetrack 
 Dunne s invidious report of a "case." 
 
 [184]
 
 <?HE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 "Max is all right," he asserted, with emphasis. 
 "He s working like a slave down in Paly, besides 
 directing the whole campaign, and hasn t time for 
 anybody or anything. He s got the whole load on 
 his back. You needn t worry about him." 
 
 "You don t know how relieved I feel." Marion s 
 face brightened so perceptibly that McCallister 
 could not help noting it, with almost a feeling of 
 jealousy. 
 
 "We ll elect you sure, Marion," was his admonish 
 ing word at parting, "don t you worry." 
 
 "I won t," she answered, and her expression did 
 not belie her. 
 
 That afternoon, when Marion had lost all her 
 doubt of Warrington, she saw him slowly approach 
 ing the house. There was something in the stoop of 
 his shoulders that filled her with foreboding. She 
 was not kept long in suspense, however, for he spoke 
 with no preface, as his nervous fingers clutched the 
 chair into which he had dropped. "Marion, I have 
 just found out that some of our forces in the Hall 
 and Paly have gone back on us. Dunne s got a 
 powerful secret organization in both places." 
 
 Marion looked at him helplessly. 
 
 "It means," he hesitated, and continued with an 
 effort, "it means that you will be defeated by Dunne.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 We ve always carried things before this, but we 
 can t down the opposition to a woman for editor of 
 a college sheet. We ve worked day and night for 
 you, we brought all sorts of screws to bear, and 
 thought we had the thing cinched. Now it s all up." 
 He made a despairing gesture. 
 
 Marion was speechless. She felt bewildered and 
 strangely forlorn. A lump was growing in her 
 throat, along with an inclination to cry bitterly. 
 Instead, she threw her head back in a determined 
 way, and smiled tremulously at Warrington, who 
 looked down, unable to bear the sight of the tears 
 that filled her eyes, and to witness her manifest 
 effort at control. "I know that you have done every 
 thing in your power for me, Max. I can t help being 
 terribly disappointed but that doesn t matter. You 
 you were mighty brave to come and tell me the 
 truth She became silent, afraid of her voice. 
 
 Warrington was embarrassed and helpless. It 
 was all that he could do to suppress his emotion, and 
 he dared say nothing to her for fear of losing him 
 self. Marion appeared to gain self-control in pro 
 portion to his loss of it. 
 
 "Really, it can t be helped, Max. Please don t 
 feel so badly about it, for truly, I understand." 
 
 [186]
 
 THE RULERS OF fHE REALM 
 
 And she was the one doing the comforting ! War- 
 rington drew himself together at the thought, looked 
 at her irresolutely, and then beseechingly. "Marion, 
 don t misjudge me for what I m going to do. You 
 know I d have given anything in the world to have 
 had you get it, but it s absolutely hopeless not a 
 loophole of a chance. We ve only one recourse left, as 
 we four can t let Dunne get it under any conditions. 
 You ll have to believe me, Marion, for you won t 
 understand it s all politics. So the fellows have 
 made me promise to run. It s our only hope 
 and I ve got to do it," he added, digging his boot 
 miserably into the carpet. 
 
 "Why, I m glad that you can, though you ll have 
 to work frightfully hard with all your other responsi 
 bilities. I m selfish," Marion spoke in a whimsical 
 manner, "and if I can t have it, I d rather see you 
 get it than anybody else. I feel a pride in that 
 magazine. I I made a good many plans for it, 
 when" she stopped, her disappointment getting the 
 better of her. 
 
 "You can do anything you want with it," he said, 
 feelingly. 
 
 "Some day you may be sorry for promising that." 
 She made a miserable attempt at a laugh. 
 
 Warrington picked up his hat with deliberation
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 but turned back hesitatingly at the door. "Marion, 
 you re the bravest girl that I ever knew." 
 
 The door closed, and Marion, leaning against it, 
 sobbed miserably. 
 
 Warrington walked grimly down the Row. 
 
 "What s your grouch, old man 1 ?" exclaimed Mc- 
 Callister a few minutes later, as he met him by the 
 book store. "What s happened?" 
 
 "The game s all up for Marion Hughes," the other 
 replied, bitterly, as he explained in detail how things 
 stood. "Gee, she took the news like a man. It 
 makes me sick this running myself dog-gone it, I 
 feel as if I had gone back on her like the other bunch. 
 Looks like it." 
 
 "Don t you mind, old fellow." McCallister s 
 voice was sympathetic. "Of course you ve got to 
 run, the rest of us can t. You re in a tough position, 
 but you ll have to stay by it. She has no chance, 
 and we ve got to knock out Dunne." 
 
 Warrington was looking into space and seemed 
 to be only half-hearing McCallister s words. "By 
 George, Mac," he cried, excitedly, as he suddenly 
 turned on the startled McCallister and grasped his 
 shoulder, shaking it for emphasis, "I ve got the whole 
 thing." 
 
 [188]
 
 RULERS OF 3 HE REALM 
 
 "Let go, and make yourself intelligible," said Mc- 
 Callister. Whereupon Warrington, at first incoher 
 ently, then eloquently, unfolded and enlarged upon 
 the idea that had at that moment occurred to him. 
 
 "For Heaven s sake," he ended, earnestly, "per 
 suade her to stay in the fight, tell her everything." 
 
 "Don t worry, old man, I ll fix it up," the other 
 called back as he hurried on, fully as excited as 
 Warrington. 
 
 It was half an hour before McCallister finally 
 found Marion. He had met Elizabeth and Sam 
 Trent returning from a walk, and they had reported 
 seeing her half-way up the pine-topped hill on the 
 Mayfield road. He had wandered around French 
 man s lake, and viewed the hill from every side, 
 before discovering her under the fringe of pines 
 looking toward the University. Though she smiled 
 bravely as he climbed up to her, he could not 
 quell a sudden, unreasoning resentment toward 
 Warrington. 
 
 "I m awfully sorry that this has happened, 
 Marion," he said, as he gained the top of the hill, 
 "but it will come out all right." 
 
 "I certainly hope so. Max deserves it if any one 
 does, and I m mighty glad that he can turn the cam 
 paign to some effect after working so hard." 
 
 [189]
 
 NOT: INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "I mean you." There was a touch of constraint in 
 his voice. 
 
 "Why? 5 
 
 "Marion," McCallister interrupted, impatiently, 
 "you re not going to drop out of the fight!" 
 
 Marion looked at him incredulously. "Of course 
 I am. It s a good thing that Max discovered the 
 way things were going in time to save me from the 
 humiliation of being beaten. I hand in my with 
 drawal tonight to the Daily. 
 
 McCallister had intended to explain matters 
 fully. But instead, with a slight curl of his lips, he 
 remarked: "You seem more exercised over War- 
 rington s success than over your own disappoint 
 ment." 
 
 Marion flushed, and stammered, evasively, "Why 
 shouldn t I be he s done so much." 
 
 McCallister turned and looked away over the 
 hills, and his voice was hesitating. "So you are going 
 to withdraw*?" 
 
 Marion glanced at his set face, and was puzzled. 
 "Why, yes. I have said so twice." 
 
 McCallister drew a deep breath as he turned to 
 her. "Don t you think that is unfair to me, 
 Marion?" he asked, rather wistfully. 
 
 [ 190]
 
 THE RULERS OF ?HE REALM 
 
 "What do you mean 1 ? I am sorry if I have 
 offended." Marion was completely nonplussed. 
 
 "Haven t I worked harder for you than any of 
 the others pretended to except well, haven t I 
 counted on your winning out as if I had been run 
 ning myself? What consideration do I have?" 
 There was bitterness in his tone. "Not one whit. 
 It s all for the man who gets taken in on a tale of 
 secret organizations, and won t believe a word to the 
 contrary, even when driven in with sledge-hammers." 
 
 Marion gasped. "I don t think I understand." 
 
 "It s just this," he said, firmly, "just this, that I 
 can make you win." 
 
 "But Max said there was absolutely no hope," 
 she remonstrated. "I don t believe that he could be 
 deceived." 
 
 "Ask Chandler or Bailey, you ll find they agree 
 with me," he said, almost brusquely. McCallister 
 always had difficulty in managing his temper. 
 
 Marion felt the implication of his words and atti 
 tude and was at a loss for an evasive answer. She 
 looked down miserably on the red roofs of the Uni 
 versity buildings, past the big chimney and the tower 
 of the Memorial Church to the mass of trees banked 
 against the horizon, hazy in the afternoon sun. She 
 watched a streak of smoke drift and spread over the
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Arboretum, as the Del Monte Express shrieked and 
 pounded its way down the country. It reminded her 
 of the time of day, and she answered quietly: "It s 
 growing late, and I m due at the house." 
 
 "You have not answered my question." Mc- 
 Callister made no move toward rising from the 
 ground. 
 
 "I m more grateful than I can tell to you and 
 the rest and I know you are disappointed, but I 
 I couldn t run against Max it wouldn t be right 
 after all he s done. You ought 
 
 "There shouldn t be any sentiment in politics," 
 he interrupted, with his narrowed eyes fixed on 
 Marion s face. "You can win." He became more 
 gentle. "Will you let me prove it to you 4 ?" 
 
 Marion looked at the ground helplessly and her 
 lips trembled. Her voice was unsteady and re 
 luctant, as she answered: "If if you like." 
 
 On the way home she could not drive away the 
 thought of what Warrington s attitude toward her 
 would be. Would be put her down as insincere, 
 double-faced, and bitterly remember her last words 
 to him on his success 1 ? Yet she could not have acted 
 otherwise, cornered, as she had been, by McCallister. 
 Worst of all, she could not explain. Perhaps he 
 would suspect the truth. Perhaps he would never 
 
 [ 192]
 
 THE RULERS OF THE REALM 
 
 understand. An unbearable hatred of politics welled 
 up in her. She hoped that she would meet defeat. 
 
 McCallister was conscious of her mood, and in 
 wardly cursed his weakness in allowing jealousy to 
 get the better of him. 
 
 Not slower than the proverbial wildfire, the word 
 had spread of Warrington s running, and varied were 
 the explanations offered. But nowhere was the new 
 candidate to be seen. There was something mysti 
 fying about the matter, and all day groups gathered 
 on the corners of the Quad and even in the silent 
 precincts of the Library. Dunne buttonholed people 
 more frequently than was his wont and there was 
 a worried furrow on his brow. His followers 
 drooped for lack of enthusiasm, but the known 
 affiliates of the big four were calm and silent. 
 
 Marion went to Quad after classes had been called 
 in order to avoid the risk of meeting Warrington. 
 She did all her studying upstairs in a seminar room, 
 and told no one of her whereabouts. 
 
 The day following, that of the election, she re 
 mained at home. Dunne was the only candidate 
 who stood watching the two long, wavering lines 
 that met at the ballot-box, placed on the portion of 
 the Quad opposite the Inn. The political forecasters 
 were out in full force, cumbering the steps and 
 
 [ 193]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 blocking the road. Dunne s lieutenants and 
 Marion s, with McCallister well in the lead, elec 
 tioneered up and down the line, as it restlessly 
 stamped and shuffled forward. In the confusion 
 and general bantering, none noticed that only those 
 opposing Marion were almost immediately ap 
 proached by the well-posted aides of Warrington. 
 
 "Let me give you a tip," said one of Dunne s fol 
 lowers, hurrying up to a husky fellow in line. The 
 man lifted his foot with deliberation and put it over 
 the "no electioneering" line. 
 
 "Warrington s the fellow," some one announced. 
 
 "Aw, he didn t play fair," another retorted, and 
 farther down the line, "Marion Hughes for me. 
 She s a peach." 
 
 "Not for me. Give us a man." 
 
 "All right, take Herbert Dunne." 
 
 "Sneeze, kid, your face is dusty! Warrington 
 for me." 
 
 Shortly after eleven-fifteen, Southack dropped 
 into line back of one of the ardent followers of 
 Dunne. 
 
 "Where s Warrington? 
 
 "Gone to the city," he answered, carelessly, "de 
 cided he didn t care a hang whether he won or not." 
 
 The man dropped out, and it was but a few 
 
 [ 194]
 
 THE RULERS OF <?HE REALM 
 
 minutes before the line was buzzing with the news 
 that Warrington had withdrawn. 
 
 The furrow on Dunne s brow became less distinct, 
 his followers took a new lease on life, and they saw 
 well to it that Warrington received no further votes. 
 
 "Go to," one man exclaimed, "he can t withdraw 
 without putting it in the Daily. 
 
 "Have you read all the notices this morning 1 ?" 
 Dunne s follower bluffed. 
 
 The rumour was accepted for the greater part im 
 plicitly. It was a conspicuous fact that no one on 
 the other side attempted to deny the report, 
 Southack merely grinned at the thought of the elec 
 tric effect of his words on the line as they had been 
 transmitted through Dunne s following, and winked 
 at Chandler and Bailey each time that they met 
 along the arcade. 
 
 It was well on in the afternoon when McCallister, 
 waving his hat excitedly, hurried up to the Lambda 
 Eta house, and met Marion s anxious face at the door. 
 
 "We ve won! We ve won!" 
 
 His hand shook, as he thrust a crumpled piece of 
 paper toward her. 
 
 "See, you ve got 448, Dunne 401, and Warring- 
 ton only 363; he was killed by the rumour boosted 
 by Dunne s men, you know." 
 
 [195]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Marion s face paled, and her eyes looked pitifully 
 large. Her voice became so low that McCallister 
 was surprised. "Thank you for coming up so soon 
 I was very anxious to hear the returns, and and I 
 owe you a great deal for all you ve accomplished 
 for me. I I believe I appreciate what you people 
 have done, a good deal more than the election"- 
 every word came out with a conscious effort. 
 
 McCallister, with the first elation of the victory 
 over, stood looking at her hesitatingly. Then he 
 threw back his shoulders and glanced down the Row. 
 "Marion, I want to explain, I ve " 
 
 He stopped, disconcerted by the approach of War- 
 rington, Bailey, and Chandler, glanced intently at 
 his watch, and picked up his hat. "I ve got to run 
 for the 5:10 to the city. I want to talk things over 
 with you later. And remember, Marion, we re all 
 human and I couldn t help it." 
 
 She watched him with a bewildered expression 
 as he hurried off. He saluted the men at the turn 
 to the house, and Marion gasped when she recognized 
 Warrington among them. 
 
 "Hurrah for Miss Hughes," they cried exultantly, 
 as they reached the steps. 
 
 Bailey was the first to shake her hand. "Con 
 gratulations, Miss Editor-in-chief of the Sequoia. " 
 
 [196]
 
 RULERS OF ?HE REALM 
 
 "Miss and not missed," she replied, with forced 
 gaiety. 
 
 When Warrington spoke to her he noticed that 
 her hand trembled, and that the usual frankness of 
 her manner was lacking. He was first astonished, 
 and then frowningly puzzled. 
 
 "By Jove! this is the man you ought to thank, 
 Miss Hughes," said Bailey, seizing Warrington by 
 the arm. "He has sacrificed more than all the rest 
 of us put together." 
 
 There was an awkward silence. Chandler, con 
 scious that something was wrong, added, "If War 
 rington hadn t disputed Dunne s territory with him, 
 you wouldn t have had a ghost of a chance. It will 
 be the talk of the college. Cleverest game ever 
 played on this community running at the last 
 minute canvassing at the polls to take Dunne s 
 votes dropping out when you were safe, and to 
 keep himself from being elected." 
 
 Bailey laughed. "I wish you could see Dunne, 
 Chandler." 
 
 Marion had been looking from one to the other in 
 a dazed way. Then she turned impulsively to War 
 rington. "Why didn t you tell me the truth in the 
 first place 1 ? What it would have saved! I felt so 
 double-faced running, when you had told me 
 
 [ 197]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 "Didn t McCallister explain to you? " demanded 
 Warrington, his face flushing with anger. "I didn t 
 think of the scheme till after I had left that day. 
 He gave me his word that he would tell you; started 
 off to, in fact." 
 
 Marion glanced at the perplexed faces of the other 
 two men. 
 
 "Queer of Mac," Bailey muttered, "I can t see 
 his motive." 
 
 Marion saw a peculiar smile come about the 
 corners of Chandler s mouth, and with a woman s 
 quick intuition she divined the real cause of Mc- 
 Callister s conduct. She was charitable enough to 
 shield him. 
 
 "Mr. McCallister probably surmised that I 
 wouldn t consent knowingly to so great a sacrifice 
 as Max has had to make for me. And he was right, 
 too," she said, firmly, glancing at Warrington. 
 
 Bailey seized the opportunity to sign to Chandler. 
 "There are a few explanations yet due," he began 
 elaborately, "about the misunderstandings and all 
 that. But we ve an engagement, Miss Hughes " 
 
 "So we depute Max to take it all another case 
 of politics by proxy." There was the same under 
 standing smile on Chandler s face. 
 
 [198]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCY 
 
 The room was cheap and dingy and it had been 
 mercilessly twisted out of all regard to angles. The 
 battered sideboard standing in the corner at the 
 top of the gentle slope of floor, its expansive shelf in 
 the utmost disorder, looked stunned and staggered, 
 as though it had not yet recovered from the shock. 
 From its point of elevation, it rather overlooked the 
 several tables that occupied the rest of the room. 
 
 Peter, seated at the nearest of these, saw through 
 a half -open door the end of a gaudily decorated bar, 
 and heard men walking back and forth heavily and 
 talking loudly. Between attempts to swallow some 
 horrible coffee which was set before her in an im 
 mense white cup, she took in with fascinated curi 
 osity the details of the room. Yesterday she would 
 have thought it hardly proper to have glanced at 
 the disreputable roadhouse as she drove by. Eliza 
 beth, opposite her, was obviously annoyed by the 
 crumbs on the coarse white table-cloth, but her 
 appreciation of the emergency led her to brush 
 them aside and eat as well as she could huge slices 
 of coarse white bread. She had even reminded Peter 
 of the lateness of the breakfast and the necessity of 
 
 [201]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 eating something. Sam, who was responsible for 
 their having anything at all, had drawn a handful 
 of penciled papers from his pocket and was bending 
 over them making corrections and revisions. His 
 collar was turned up and his hair unusually mussed. 
 His lips puckered nervously as he worked and there 
 was an excited tension about his fingers as he cov 
 ered the papers with large heavy writing. 
 
 A woman with a dirty apron and disordered hair 
 shuffled in, bringing ham and eggs. She had a high 
 voice and a manner pretending to great respecta 
 bility. At the next table some one was feeding a 
 screaming baby. Elizabeth murmured something 
 about "the poor thing," but Sam did not look up. 
 Peter suspected that he was rather disgusted at hav 
 ing found them on the train at San Bruno. Clearly 
 they should have stayed on the campus with the rest 
 of the mulieres et impedimenta, 
 
 Peter was not quite certain how it had happened, 
 but once started she knew that she must keep on. 
 To stop was misery. At this distance that horrible 
 awakening at five-twenty, even before the alarm 
 clock, which had been set to prepare for the Eco 
 nomics quiz section, seemed long ago. The mad rush 
 downstairs, the hurrying to the Quad, the excitement 
 and the terrible ruin, had left an impression of chaos, 
 
 [ 202 ]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 and for a background, beautiful green hills shining 
 in the early morning light under a clear blue sky. 
 
 They had piled into an overloaded bus for Palo 
 Alto, laden with telegrams. They had discovered 
 that the wires were down all communication was 
 cut off ! Then had come a long whistle, and a north 
 bound train had pulled in the only remaining 
 bearer of news. People had rushed to it for infor 
 mation, their minds grasping for comparisons, for 
 in the proportion that others had suffered could they 
 rate their own loss. 
 
 In terse sentences the trainman had explained 
 what he knew of the disaster in San Jose. 
 
 "But nothing from the city," he had added, and 
 then Peter had been overwhelmed with a desire to 
 go up to the center of things. To be cut off and 
 not to know what had happened was intolerable. 
 So, unreasoning, she had climbed aboard and Eliza 
 beth, overexcited, had followed her. They were go 
 ing to the city. As they went on, smoothly enough 
 at first, the sky had become clouded, the hills had 
 looked less reassuring, and they had sat almost ter 
 rified. At San Bruno, the engine had balked at the 
 wavy undulations of track spread before it, and 
 Elizabeth leaning from the window, had captured 
 Sam Trent, cram full of copy for the city papers 
 
 [203]
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 and in a tremendous hurry. Peter vaguely wondered 
 at his condescension in stopping for breakfast at all, 
 for besides the distance which they had already 
 tramped to Colma, there was at least a ten-mile walk 
 before them. He had finished his scribbling and had 
 begun to discuss the possibilities of a "scoop." 
 
 The woman who had been occupied with the baby, 
 moved by some mistaken feeling of sympathy in the 
 disaster, turned toward them and in a voice of almost 
 overwhelming sadness, began to complain of the 
 ruin. "It s awful," she said, "simply awful ! " 
 Peter felt uncomfortable and looked at her plate. 
 Some people, she thought, would talk about it even 
 if it were the end of the world. 
 
 "I live up by the cemeteries," the woman went 
 on, "and there s a volcano opened up there in the 
 hills, and the graves is all broken open, and the 
 corpses is all lying around ! " This statement being 
 met by a cold, polite silence, the woman continued, 
 "It s the truth I m telling ye, I seen it with my own 
 eyes." Sam shrugged his shoulders with uneasy 
 annoyance, and muttered something about "half- 
 shot." The woman advanced with a show of injured 
 feelings. "Ye think I m drunk, do ye? " 
 
 But the room began to shake gently, windows 
 rattled, dishes clattered on the old sideboard. With 
 
 [204]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 a scream Elizabeth rushed for the small back door, 
 Peter following, and Sam a close third. It was over 
 as soon as they were through the dilapidated door 
 way, and they came back laughing nervously, but 
 they were trembling and there was a "gone" .feeling 
 inside. 
 
 The woman at the other table was sobbing. 
 
 Outside a great yellow cloud was spreading down 
 from the north. Ominous and threatening, it told a 
 plain story of a city on fire. The two girls felt 
 strangely out of place. A large man came up on 
 a hard-ridden horse, a coil of rope around the pom 
 mel of his saddle. Sam asked him about the city. 
 
 "Don t go up there," he said sternly. "There s 
 not a drop of water and there won t be anything to 
 eat by night. The soldiers are surrounding the city; 
 wouldn t let you in if you got there. No use trying 
 it. Everybody s leaving. There ll be twenty thou 
 sand people here by night," he added to the pro 
 prietor of the roadhouse who had come out in his 
 great white apron; and as the man disappeared 
 toward the distant packing establishment for which 
 he was bound, the far-sighted host put the advice to 
 practice by getting fifty loaves of bread from a 
 passing bakery wagon. As yet things were still go 
 ing, wound up by the machinery of the day before, 
 
 [205]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 but the order would soon be upset, for already sev 
 eral crowded automobiles, piled high with baggage, 
 had gone by, fleeing from the city. 
 
 The group on the porch became a council of war. 
 
 "I m sure we could make it," insisted Peter, and 
 Elizabeth asserted that she was "game." 
 
 Sam shifted his position and coughed. "I don t 
 think you d better try it," he said. "There s no tell 
 ing what you may get into. One of the trains will 
 go back from San Bruno soon and you could easily 
 get it. I ll have to try to get this dope in." 
 
 Then Peter saw that he wanted to get rid of them, 
 thought they were a nuisance, and was in a hurry to 
 be off. "I wish I were a man ! " she cried angrily. 
 
 "But you re not," said Sam teasingly, "you re 
 only a girl." 
 
 "And of no use in an emergency," finished Peter. 
 
 Sam looked guilty and Elizabeth settled the mat 
 ter. "We ll be good and go home where you think 
 we belong. Good-bye," and they reluctantly turned 
 in opposite directions. 
 
 Stumbling down the railroad track, Peter wept 
 softly. "Just because we re girls, just because we re 
 girls, we can t go up and see it all." Elizabeth was 
 comforting, but she seemed to have discovered the 
 fact long ago and become reconciled to it. 
 
 [206]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 Slowly they retraced their way. Once they 
 stopped and bought peanuts at a little stand near 
 the cemeteries. The cloud overhead had become 
 denser, and more crowded automobiles were coming 
 down the county-road from the city. 
 
 Then, in the midst of a green field, they saw their 
 engine slowly coming toward them over the twisted 
 and hastily repaired tracks. They ran on to gain a 
 crossing, and there the train stopped, and the con 
 ductor was waiting to help them on. 
 
 Thus it happened that Sam, who had not caught 
 the train, found them waiting for him when he 
 arrived at Valencia Street station. 
 
 Pacing up and down in front of the desolate crowd 
 of homeless, huddled amongst their baggage, Peter 
 and Elizabeth were waiting for a chance to return. 
 The ride up had been a nightmare an ever-redden 
 ing cloud of smoke, a harrowing throng hurrying 
 from the city in every possible kind of conveyance, 
 confused cries of "Don t go in there! You can t 
 help! You don t know what you re getting into! " 
 But with stolid persistence the train had pushed on 
 slowly, almost crawling, nearer and nearer to the 
 burning center of the city. 
 
 Elizabeth had seen Sam s sombrero crossing the 
 
 [207]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 street through the outgoing stream of people, dodg 
 ing between a wagon almost toppling over with 
 household furniture and a useless street-car. Pull 
 ing Peter hastily around the corner of the station, 
 she pointed out the familiar figure, and then both 
 drew back into the shadow, for they felt somewhat 
 ashamed of having disobeyed orders. 
 
 Sam laughed, for he could not help it, as he 
 perceived their crestfallen countenances, though 
 laughter sounded strangely out of place among this 
 crowd of stunned people, dumbly waiting for a 
 chance to get away. 
 
 "Well, how did you do it? he asked. 
 
 "Don t ask us," said Peter, "we want to go back 
 now." 
 
 "I don t think there s much chance," Sam shrugged 
 his shoulders, "but we ll wait awhile." 
 
 "Oh, don t you wait!" pleaded Elizabeth, "you 
 must get to the paper." 
 
 "Office has gone," said the college correspondent 
 in a voice of despair. "Come down this street and 
 have a look at the fire." 
 
 Perhaps ten blocks down a near street they looked 
 into the red center of the fire, where, over the heads 
 of the crowd of people that surrounded it, they could 
 see the flames steadily at work. 
 
 [208]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 It was tiresome wandering between the crowded 
 station and the point from which the fire could be 
 seen. People were waiting, hardly speaking or com 
 plaining, or were passing on in an endless procession, 
 overloaded, ready to drop; anything to get away. 
 The trio sat on the steps of an apparently deserted 
 house and waited also. Their features assumed 
 somewhat the stoical, resigned expression of the 
 people in the streets. The afternoon was almost 
 gone, and every one felt the dread of the approaching 
 night. 
 
 "We can t stay here any longer," Elizabeth said 
 finally. "We must go out to my aunt s, near the 
 Park. We can stay there all night." 
 
 They decided that it was the only thing to do, and 
 so started across the city, up hill and down, over 
 miles of sidewalk crowded with people too fright 
 ened to stay in their houses. Sometimes they found 
 their way barred by danger ropes, where a whole flat 
 was leaning over at a startling angle, and once, a 
 block away, they saw where the first story of a small 
 hotel had given way, landing the structure in the 
 basement. And repeatedly came the ominous, dull 
 explosions of dynamite in the hands of the fire 
 fighters. They resounded from different parts of the 
 city like distant guns in the battle against the fire. 
 
 [209]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Once, Sam took his two weary followers near the 
 fire line, and, to get a better view, went a block out 
 of the way. Elizabeth, tall, slender, eyes shining 
 with excitement, could see over the crowd and the 
 soldiers blocking the street. Peter, tiptoeing on a 
 stairway, peered over her shoulder clinging to her 
 tightly. Through the vista of fire could be seen the 
 glowing ruins of the buildings already consumed, 
 and nearer came the visible crash of a falling roof 
 or a side wall. Slowly and surely it burned, with a 
 crackle and roar, insatiable, as if it were some evil 
 genius, long confined and now let loose, ravaging 
 and pillaging while the waterless city was helpless 
 and at his mercy. 
 
 Slowly the soldiers began to advance, and the 
 crowd retreated before them, while an officer ran 
 ahead, giving notice at each house in that street to 
 vacate for the dynamiting. People cried out, and 
 ran back for a last armful. 
 
 There was a man inside the line of soldiers. He 
 was helping carry dynamite from a big automobile 
 into the middle of the rapidly deserted street. He 
 was a young man, with broad shoulders and a strong 
 face. As he stood up from depositing the blackened 
 sticks, Sam saw him news editor for the paper 
 his paper, and shouting "Weyland," rushed for the 
 
 [210]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCY 
 
 line of soldiers. From where they stood the girls 
 could see that he had some trouble in getting 
 through. He almost lost his coat in a struggle with 
 one of the soldiers. People were shouting to him 
 to stop, but he finally broke away and was at Wey- 
 land s side, when a shot rang out and he fell in a 
 heap. The man bent over him and the crowd closed 
 around, shutting out all view from the two on the 
 steps. 
 
 So quickly had it come, that Peter was stunned. 
 Dazed and horrified, she trailed after the frantic 
 Elizabeth, who pushed at the edge of the dense 
 crowd with as much effort as at a wooden stockade. 
 When a way was opened up, it was to let pass the 
 big automobile from which the dynamite had been 
 taken. Weyland was holding something on the 
 broad seat of the tonneau. He did not hear Eliza 
 beth shouting his name, and he did not see her almost 
 clutching the big tires as they cleared the jam of 
 people. 
 
 When the car had gone, Peter found her pale and 
 voluble. Over and over again she cried out, as 
 though repeating the insistent questionings of some 
 inner voice: "Peter, why did we come 1 ? Why 
 did we come 1 ? Do you think he was killed*? Do 
 you do you?" 
 
 [211]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Peter, shaken into a negative answer, insisted that 
 he couldn t be. 
 
 "Oh, those soldiers," raged the taller girl, "I could 
 shoot every one of them to strike him down like 
 that ! " People were beginning to edge nearer. 
 
 "Did you know him?" asked a curious woman. 
 With her head high, Elizabeth moved on. Again 
 on their way, she could not remain silent. 
 
 "Just because he was so crazy about getting the 
 news in!" she wailed, "and so reckless! And it was 
 all on account of us, Peter, that he came out here!" 
 
 "Yes, it s awful we re girls and have to be taken 
 care of like babies," said the other, disgustedly. 
 
 "Oh, it s frightful, just think of it! Peter, you 
 don t realize it, we saw him killed!" and the almost 
 distracted Elizabeth shrieked hysterically. 
 
 Peter rebelled. "He disobeyed orders just as 
 much as we did. Besides, he s probably not danger 
 ously hurt at all; they fix them up so easily now 
 adays, you know." 
 
 "Well, you are the most cold-hearted person I 
 ever saw," Elizabeth sobbed. But without sym 
 pathy, she could say no more. 
 
 Peter, rather ashamed of her unfeelingness, but 
 defiant, kept her thoughts to herself, and they con 
 tinued the weary tramp of the hard sidewalks. 
 
 [212]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCY 
 
 Block by block, they zigzagged along the outskirts of 
 the city into the Western Addition, where the fire 
 had not reached. Everywhere the porches and steps 
 were filled with people, and on all the streets the 
 processions of movers continued at intervals. At a 
 great orphan asylum they were spreading blankets 
 for the children on the terraced lawn, and here a 
 homeless family had taken possession of a hack in 
 front of a livery stable. There were curious sights 
 as well as pathetic, but tired eyes saw all without 
 interest. 
 
 Finally, they crawled through a park that spread 
 itself over the crest of a hill, and, turning down a 
 street flanked closely with flats and houses of the 
 same design, were greeted by a cry of welcome and 
 hauled into one of the narrow front doors, which 
 shut after them, closing out all but friends and 
 kindness. 
 
 "Lucky, lucky," whispered the wide-eyed woman 
 who had sat on the low curbing in front of the house 
 to rest her big bundle and two small children. 
 Then, with a final glance at the closed door, she 
 picked up her burden and continued the long walk 
 to the park. 
 
 %. j|c >(t ^; -Jf. % 
 
 Perhaps Fate permits no rest to those who have 
 [213]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 once disobeyed orders; perhaps it was decreed that, 
 once started, they should see it to the end. At all 
 events, to two terrified girls, who had crept down 
 through the still hot ruins of Market and Folsom 
 Streets the next morning, when their friends thought 
 them on their way to Palo Alto, Berkeley was an 
 earthly paradise. 
 
 Peter was sure something would have happened 
 to them, had not a man with a suit-case taken them 
 under his protection during the long walk over 
 heaved-up cobble-stones and fallen debris. It was 
 the college-looking suit-case that had attracted 
 Elizabeth, but it was Peter s keeping close to his 
 heels like a well-trained puppy that had made him 
 turn around. 
 
 At first Elizabeth had worried and she had 
 sobbed, "That man said no trains were going, and 
 we couldn t go back there, could we, Peter, when 
 they hardly had enough for themselves to eat"?" 
 
 "No, and then they say we can get to Berkeley. 
 Close your eyes if we see anything horrible," the 
 smaller girl had added, in appreciation of Elizabeth s 
 sensitiveness, "and I will lead you by." 
 
 But they had seen no blackened corpses, only 
 partially animated men and women camping in the 
 debris, up against the ruins of the still hot walls, 
 
 [214]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 scraps of sheet iron protecting them from the wind. 
 Squatting on the littered sidewalks close to the em 
 bers, they seemed some horrible offspring of the 
 ashes of their tenements. The wretchedness and 
 the heat had given Peter an impression of another 
 place renowned for these two characteristics. It 
 couldn t be much worse, she had thought. Compared 
 with these denizens of the lower part of town, the 
 people out by the park were happy inhabitants of 
 another world. Like Dante, they could pass from 
 one circle to another. And when the ferry-boat had 
 left the wastes of ruined walls where famine threat 
 ened and brought them to Berkeley, it was Heaven 
 indeed. 
 
 Around the station were bevies of white-starched 
 maidens, representing committees and sub-commit 
 tees for the relief of refugees. And did one for 
 saken-looking being get off the train, his bundle was 
 taken away, he was rushed to the temporary lunch 
 counter, and a hundred homes were waiting to receive 
 him. 
 
 Peter and Elizabeth fell into the arms of some of 
 the Berkeley Lambda Eta girls, who seemed rather 
 disappointed that they had not "lost everything." 
 To be again inside a well-appointed house was 
 almost inconceivable, and a well-served dinner
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 seemed a wicked luxury with their eyes still seeing 
 a destitute woman making coffee over a smoky fire 
 in a desert of debris. 
 
 Across the table the two girls looked at each other 
 with wan faces, tired from lack of sleep, and out of 
 sympathy with the laughter of the rest. The 
 memory of what they had seen rested heavily upon 
 them. Elizabeth s tightly drawn brows threatened 
 a collapse and Peter was strung to the point of 
 irritability. 
 
 "We must do something," the older girl insisted. 
 
 It was Peter who suggested the hospital, and at 
 the emergency ward improvised in Odd Fellows 
 Hall, the doctors, preparing for patients from the 
 city, eagerly accepted Elizabeth, because she looked 
 so capable, and Peter rather dubiously. The latter, 
 however, made herself more than useful in helping 
 to turn hastily donated mattresses and improvised 
 tables into beds. 
 
 In the afternoon, when the ferry-boats were 
 thrown open to everybody, patients began to arrive. 
 At first it seemed as if the whole Italian quarter of 
 the city was pouring into Berkeley. Small chil 
 dren came plentifully, and orders were given that 
 they should be washed. When this fact became 
 known outside, helpers were less insistent in offering 
 
 [216]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 their services. Elizabeth managed to evade this, 
 but Peter literally waded in and washed each dirty 
 bit of humanity as microscopically as she did 
 specimens in the laboratory. 
 
 Once a regal lady floated in, with sweeping train 
 and tragic manner; she was ill, so ill. "It s a shame 
 to say it," whispered the doctor, after examination, 
 "alcohol." 
 
 Finally, soon after a train had clanged and 
 shrieked in the street outside, the telephone rang, 
 and the hospital was asked to send attendants to 
 carry in a patient. Peter shivered as the stretcher 
 came through the door and the blanketed form upon 
 it did not move. The doctor read the paper pinned 
 on the outside: "Berkeley student, shot in ankle, 
 fracture of skull." 
 
 An experienced nurse was given charge of the case, 
 but when the doctor had made his examination and 
 the patient rested on one of the high beds, Elizabeth 
 was called, with the words, "He ll come round in a 
 minute, and when he does, give him this." A 
 reporter was waiting to find out his name and where 
 he lived. 
 
 Elizabeth, approaching the patient reluctantly, 
 suddenly set down the glass and ran ran until she 
 came to where Peter was engaged with the babies.
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Here, unmindful of the water or soap, she grabbed 
 Peter s shoulders, squeezing them joyously, and 
 saying in a voice of suppressed relief, "Peter, it s 
 Sam." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "The man they brought in from the train." 
 
 "Is he badly hurt?" 
 
 "I don t know." Elizabeth recovered herself. 
 "I must go back. The doctor told me to give him 
 something. But I m glad he s here," and she 
 departed in rather more of a confused hurry than 
 she had come. 
 
 Sam opened his eyes with a strange feeling of 
 helplessness and rebellion. He shut them again 
 when he saw Elizabeth, and reddened in embarrass 
 ment at his appearance. To be down and out is one 
 thing, but to be watched in that condition by a girl 
 is galling. Still, there is something comforting 
 about large brown eyes full of sympathy. 
 
 Sam tried to lift his head to look around. "Is it 
 Palo Alto?" he asked. 
 
 "No," said Elizabeth, "Berkeley. The doctoi 
 told me to give you this when you opened your eyes." 
 To do this, it was necessary to pass an arm under 
 the broad shoulders and steady the hand that held 
 the glass. Sam choked and laughed awkwardly,
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCT 
 
 then choked again. His eyes regained some of 
 their old keenness, but he sank back on the pillow 
 painfully. 
 
 "It s just my head," he scowled. "Must have hit 
 those cobble-stones awfully hard." 
 
 "Will you ever forgive us 1 ?" Elizabeth began. 
 
 "Not your fault," said Sam. "I wanted to see 
 Weyland." 
 
 "Where did he take you*? I tried to stop him 
 when he went away, but " 
 
 "I don t remember. I guess it was the pavilion. 
 I heard him say something about college correspond 
 ent of the tfimes. Must have thought I was Berke 
 ley; my head was so I couldn t tell them." 
 
 "I m glad they did send you here," Elizabeth 
 smiled. 
 
 Sam frowned beneath the bandages. "Awful 
 insult sending me to Berkeley, wait till I see Wey 
 land! Wonder he couldn t have put a tag on me." 
 
 "Some one else did. Booked you Berkeley." 
 
 Sam groaned. 
 
 "Oh, I didn t mean it," pleaded Elizabeth. "It s 
 too awful to talk about. We thought surely you 
 had been killed Peter 
 
 "Where s Peter? 
 
 "She s washing the babies." A weak smile 
 
 [219]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 spread over the correspondent s features. The 
 doctor and the reporters interfered, and when Eliza 
 beth returned, the patient had been cheered by the 
 news that when the ankle was in a plaster, there 
 being no sign of fracture of the skull, he would be 
 free to go. Elizabeth, straightening the pillow, 
 smiled down at him. 
 
 Outside on the steps of the building, tired Peter 
 was resting in the cool of the late afternoon. Peo 
 ple were passing up and down into the hospital, but 
 she did not notice them. Men and women with 
 badges and red crosses passed to and fro in the street, 
 alternating with weary, bedraggled families laden 
 with bundles. Trains were coming in and always 
 returning empty. To the west there was a red re 
 flection in the sky that was more than sunset, and 
 the edge of a cloud, smoke yellow. Peter was tired. 
 She bent her head down and rested it upon her arms. 
 It came to her wearily that perhaps she should be 
 tired for a long time. Vaguely the realization of 
 the long period of readjustment to follow came over 
 her. To go away until it was all over and settled 
 again! Peter sighed, but then she felt and knew 
 that to endure was the only courage, however black 
 seemed the vague foreshadowings of the evils that 
 by law must follow in the replanting of uprooted 
 
 [ 220 ]
 
 EARTHQUAKE EMERGENCY 
 
 conditions. Perhaps Peter heard the endless ham 
 mering on the beloved Quad and the echo of the 
 stone-cutters chisels through the long arcades. 
 
 Upstairs, Elizabeth was saying to Sam: "There s 
 just one thing Peter wants to know." 
 
 "What is it 1 ?" came a little weakly. 
 
 "She wants to know, and she is gloating to hear 
 your answer, she wants to know if girls aren t of as 
 much use in an emergency as some men 1 ?" 
 
 [221 ]
 
 Senior JF
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 Characters. Elizabeth Warner, Margaret Sears, 
 Sam tfrent and Philip Collier. 
 
 Scene. A stairway at Enema overlooking the 
 ballroom. Elizabeth Warner and Sam tfrent seated 
 on a couch on the landing. 
 
 Trent. So this is our Senior, Lizbeth! You d 
 laugh if you knew how I d counted on it almost 
 since we were Sophomores having you for Senior 
 week, I mean. And yet, I m not so envious of 
 Philip as I might be. Do you know, I wouldn t 
 barter one of those glorious out-of-door days for all 
 his week of festivities. You looked bored to death 
 at the Prom! 
 
 Elizabeth. Merely my ankle, Samuel. 
 
 Trent. And, hang it all, you re all worn out to 
 night ! 
 
 Elizabeth. My ankle again, sir. 
 
 Trent. Betty, what you want is God s out-of- 
 doors. Come on, cut Chapel tomorrow and we ll 
 make for "hill-church." I ll order the pintos from 
 Parsons tonight, and we ll go any place you like. 
 Let s make it La Honda and a campfire by the 
 
 creek 
 
 [225]
 
 NO*? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Elizabeth (laughingly). Oh, you; that s the 
 way you always begin, "Wherever you like, Eliza 
 beth, only let s go What a man you are ! 
 
 ^frent. Don t you like it best, the redwoods and 
 the old Alpine grade? You used to. 
 
 Elizabeth. Oh, then of course I must still. It 
 is hard to tell, though, really. One metamorphoses 
 constantly here. There s very little of real me left, 
 anyway. Peter says my "elemental self" is quite 
 evaporated. 
 
 tfrent. Peter s a pessimist and we won t believe 
 her. Do you know, she assured me tonight that the 
 only reason she let me bring her was to vindicate me 
 before my fellow-men as a "queener." She also 
 flatteringly intimated that in the category of bore 
 dom I rank rather higher than average. 
 
 Elizabeth. That was not nice of Peter. I shall 
 remonstrate. 
 
 ^frent (laughingly). I wouldn t. She s swear 
 ing vengeance on even you tonight. Miss Benson 
 has scandalized her completely, and you are held 
 sponsor for the importation. 
 
 Elizabeth. Poor, dear Peter. The days of neck 
 ruffs and cameos are her setting. What s the offense, 
 I wonder 1 ? 
 
 [226]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 tfrent. Well, I don t want to butt in, but I don t 
 think myself that swinging one s feet from a seat 
 on the punch-table is a very attractive posture for a 
 woman, do you*? And it is a bit conspicuous to 
 entertain half a dozen men at once on the verandah, 
 all of them puffing away at cigarettes. I agree with 
 Peter, for one. 
 
 Elizabeth. Oh, ye puritans. The farm is simply 
 too rural for your broadest development, that s all, 
 I don t mean that I approve of Kate Benson. I 
 don t. But you know how city girls are most of 
 them and you have to consider environment. 
 
 tfrent (valiantly). Well, the men aren t strong 
 for them, anway. It s only a few of these fool 
 society-ites who stand for it. 
 
 Elizabeth. I suppose Philip is to be included 
 among the denunciated ? You are not fair, Sam. 
 Mrs. Collier said something to Kate Benson about 
 Senior Week when she first came out to visit them. 
 Philip had already asked me, so he got Dick to bring 
 her. When Mrs. Collier was taken ill at the last 
 moment and Kate could not go to the Theta Phi 
 house, there was nothing for me to do but to ask her 
 to stay with us. Marion declares she s a perfect 
 "cat," and Peter, on general routine principle, de 
 nounces her as flippant. I think she is merely dif- 
 
 [227]
 
 INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 ferent, and it s natural she should be a little bit 
 spoiled. Dick s cousin, who went to finishing school 
 with her, wrote out that she is ever so keen, old 
 Southern family, popular, and all that sort of thing. 
 Mrs. Collier wouldn t be entertaining her if she were 
 not worth while. 
 
 tfrent. By no means ! 
 
 Elizabeth. And lots of money ! 
 
 tfrent. Particularly ! 
 
 Elizabeth (puzzled). What do you mean, Sam 4 ? 
 
 tfrent. Merely ambition. 
 
 Elizabeth. Oh! You think Mrs. Collier is 
 throwing her at Philip. I see ! Perhaps she is, but 
 Sam, somehow I don t think he would be carried 
 away by that sort of thing. 
 
 ^frent. Oh, I know, Lizbeth. I am not con 
 demning him. I am trying not even to judge him. 
 He does seem to be liking it, though. At least, he 
 is giving Miss Benson the time of her life. 
 
 Elizabeth (following Trent s glance to a corner 
 near the fireplace, where Philip and Miss Benson 
 are sitting). Of course, he is doing his best to en 
 tertain her. Philip is too much of a gentleman to 
 do otherwise with a guest, show preferences or 
 prejudices, I mean. 
 
 tfrent. That s just it! 
 
 [228]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 Elizabeth. What do you mean by that? 
 
 Trent. Why such a grace in your eyes? You 
 used to scorn diplomacy. 
 
 Elizabeth (wearily). Part of the evaporation, 
 presumably. 
 
 Trent. Again I prescribe the hills. Will you 
 go? 
 
 Elizabeth. I can t. I ve made a half-way en 
 gagement already. 
 
 Trent. You re not giving me even my fighting 
 chance. It is the last time I shall see you, if you 
 start south Monday. Wasn t all of Senior Week 
 enough to give him, and after the way I had banked 
 on it, Elizabeth? Hang it all, he can t care about 
 the place and its memories as you and I have cared. 
 But I won t begrudge him a thing in the world if 
 you will only give me one last, old-time day. We 
 will go over into the woods where we went shooting 
 "squichets" last spring. Do you remember, Liz- 
 beth? We didn t shoot any, did we, dear? We 
 hadn t the heart when the saucy little fellows sat 
 there, way up in the tree tops, cracking their nuts 
 and pelting the shells at us. And you told me com 
 ing home how glad you were that the day had not 
 been marred by the death of even a gray "squichet." 
 Elizabeth, that was the red-letter day of my life. 
 
 [229]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 You were closer in sympathy with me than I had 
 ever dared hope you were I know you were ! Do 
 you remember your delight in stomping through the 
 creek-bed in your soaked shoes, even with my threat 
 from the bank to "Shoot your heels off" hanging 
 over you*? And then, the drive home! 
 
 Elizabeth (closing her eyes protestingly). Don t, 
 Sam, don t! 
 
 ^rent (dreamily). The sunset on the ocean from 
 the summit near the wood-pile, the greens and greens 
 of the wooded hills, and then the fog. It came 
 down like magic, didn t it, leaving only the highest 
 hilltops lifted above it, like dark islands among 
 great billows. It stood so still ! Lizbeth, it was 
 all part of some wonderful stillness and understand 
 ing that we both felt that day. You felt it, too, 
 dear, didn t you? Tell me, didn t you, Lizbeth *? 
 
 Elizabeth (getting to her feet). I want to go 
 outside. I can t breathe here. Don t talk to me, 
 please don t, Sam ! 
 
 A deep window recess on the verandah. 
 
 Elizabeth. I can t feel differently about you, 
 Sam. I have tried to make you believe it ever since 
 the beginning of the semester. 
 
 tfrenf. Ever since Philip Collier came back, 
 Elizabeth. I know. If I thought you really cared 
 
 [230]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 for him, Elizabeth, if I thought you would really 
 be happy, but I can t believe it, I can t. 
 
 Elizabeth. It could not change me about you, 
 even if I did not care, Sam. Oh, don t make it any 
 harder for me! I am so unhappy! Why did you 
 ever grow out of the dear old comradery days why 
 did you 4 ? I don t believe you ever thought of me 
 this way until 
 
 tfrent. Elizabeth, I have always, subconsciously 
 perhaps until this spring, but I ve always cared, 
 and you know I always will. And Elizabeth, 
 I know now, I know you do love him you have as 
 good as said so. 
 
 Elizabeth. I haven t, surely I haven t. Why, I 
 don t even know that he 
 
 tfrent (savagely). He does, he s got to care if 
 you do! Elizabeth, little girl, forgive all I have 
 said. I m hard hit! I hadn t believed it could be 
 as bad as this, but I know I am unworthy some 
 thing is wrong or I d have had you. (Pulling him 
 self together.) One thing, Elizabeth I ve had a 
 part of you that he never will. Thank God, that s 
 mine! The woods and the hills over there, you ll 
 think of me sometimes when you remember them 
 and Stanford, won t you, Lizbeth think of your 
 old pal of the open road 4 ? That s all I ask! 
 
 [231 ]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Elizabeth (visibly moved and reaching out her 
 hand for his) . Dear, dear pal ! 
 
 tfrent (touching his lips to her hand). God bless 
 you for that! There s a dreary open-road before 
 me now. I am going out to Korea with Carson and 
 the bunch. It will be new and exciting, though, 
 and, Lizbeth, I ll say that over to myself many 
 times by the way what you said just now. It will 
 help a lot. 
 
 Elizabeth. And you will forget all about the 
 other, Sam ? Promise me 1 ? I can t bear to think 
 of you unhappy. 
 
 ^rent. I ll try to, I ll try my best at least I ll 
 never bother you with it again. I m a selfish brute, 
 little Betty, and You re not crying? Oh, 
 please! please! 
 
 Elizabeth (dabbing her eyes). I won t, I won t! 
 See all gone! 
 
 tfrenf. I am going in to get Peter for you. 
 Good-bye, little pal. You deserve all the good 
 things in the world. God bless you, Lizbeth! 
 God bless you ! 
 
 Elizabeth (brokenly). Good-bye, Sam, boy! 
 Good-bye ! 
 
 Enter Margaret Sears comes down the verandah 
 
 [232]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 with Trent, who wheels suddenly and leaves her 
 alone with Elizabeth. 
 
 Peter. Sam has singled me out as an angel of 
 comfort. Poor Betty, I m not much use in that 
 role, I fear. Besides, dear, I am not sure that you 
 deserve it. How could you, Elizabeth, how could 
 you*? I know what you have told him. I could 
 see it in his face half-way across the room, and oh, 
 Elizabeth, I feel as if the last prop in my little world 
 had gone under, too. Somehow it seems as if you 
 were cutting loose from all the old things. You 
 know what I mean. 
 
 Elizabeth (weeping softly). Peter, I can t make 
 you understand, it is something beyond my power 
 to change. I know, indeed I know, Peter, how fine 
 he is. Part of me your old-time "elemental" part, 
 I guess, won t let me be happy about losing him, 
 but 
 
 Peter (impatiently). Elizabeth, that is the best 
 part of you, the part we all love you for. The 
 other isn t you at all. 
 
 Elizabeth. It is very real, Peterkins, you don t 
 know how painfully real it is. You don t know 
 how I have reasoned with myself how I have forti 
 fied my mind with all the platitudes that ought to 
 convince, but they don t, they don t, Peter! 
 
 [233]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Peter. No hardly with the glamour of Philip 
 offsetting them. That s what is the matter, Betty. 
 You are dazzled, just like a child. Don t be cross 
 with me for thinking it, because you see it s a sort of 
 impersonal diagnosis. You don t appeal as quite 
 you just at present. 
 
 Elizabeth. Poor Philip you are not exactly 
 meting out mercy to him, are you? Why should he 
 care about me, Peter, why should he like the kind of 
 things we like if there wasn t the other side to him 6 ? 
 He knows I am not like like Katherine Benson, for 
 instance. 
 
 Peter (tartly). I should hope not. 
 
 Elizabeth (insistently). Well, why should he 
 care, Peter, tell me that*? 
 
 Peter. It is another side of him uppermost his 
 best self for the moment. 
 
 Elizabeth. I won t believe it. I couldn t care 
 as I do, Peter, I couldn t, if there was nothing to 
 care for. Do you think that I am superficial, too 1 ? 
 
 Peter (caustically). You are in love, Elizabeth, 
 and discrimination is not conspicuous in the process. 
 
 Elizabeth. Your comfort is rather pedantic, 
 Peter. You had better go back to your partner. 
 
 Peter. I mean well enough, Betty, dear, but I 
 can t help caring a great deal, and you asked me, 
 
 [234]
 
 SENIOR FIN JURIES 
 
 you know! I suppose you have the rest of your 
 dances with him. They were beginning to go up to 
 supper as we came out. Thank goodness, those 
 wretches hanging over the balcony will have to 
 scatter to their rooms for a little while. Some of 
 the Freshmen have been letting down sprigs of 
 mistletoe all evening on the heads of the unsuspect 
 ing. And Carson s up there with his eagle eye on 
 Sam. A lot of the 07 men are going out to Korea 
 on the survey with Lawson and they want him to 
 go. I guess they had a hunch that tonight would 
 decide him. 
 
 Elizabeth. They are very impertinent. 
 
 Peter. No merely human. 
 
 Elizabeth. You d better go up if you are going 
 to get any supper. 
 
 Peter. We won t save seats for you at our table 
 as we planned, I suppose? It might be embarrass 
 ing, mightn t it 1 ? The stakes on Sam s going would 
 be rather summarily settled, I imagine. 
 
 Elizabeth. Don t rub it in, Peter! 
 
 Peter (softening perceptibly). Oh, Betty! don t 
 do anything stupid. You re all upset and worked 
 upon tonight. Come on home with me in the morn 
 ing and you can think things over during the 
 
 [235]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 summer. Won t you 1 ? I ll go up to the house and 
 pack for you tonight, if you will. 
 
 Elizabeth. You know I can t, Peter! It 
 wouldn t be decent of me to cut that drive after 
 
 Peter (dryly). I think it would be the decentest 
 and the sanest thing you ever did. 
 
 Elizabeth. Don t be hard on me, Peterkins, 
 don t! I am terribly unhappy! Tell me, are my 
 eyes red*? I only hope Philip won t discover me 
 right away. I know I look a fright ! And Peter- 
 kins, be as decent to old Sam as you can, won t you 4 ? 
 
 Peter (sniffing as she walks away). H m! That 
 comes well from you. 
 
 tfwo dances later an automobile pulls up in front 
 of the Hall. Miss Benson and another city girl, 
 followed by several men, come up the steps. 
 
 Collier (discovering Elizabeth down the veran 
 dah). Ah! here you are! Dick suggested a spurt 
 down to Paly in his machine and Katherine wanted 
 to go. I am afraid it has made me cut one of my 
 dances with you, worse luck ! We got into Wilson s 
 and nothing short of three rounds would do them. 
 Then Kitty insisted on a last "Encina Delight." 
 
 Elizabeth (laughingly). Oh, you are forgiven. 
 Any one who pleads such a patriotic cause ! 
 
 Philip. It wasn t excuse enough to satisfy 
 
 [236]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 me. Even the minutes have grown precious now, 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 Elizabeth. That s good of you to say, when my 
 ankle has spoiled things so, too! I know you will 
 be generous and vow that men are bored with danc 
 ing, anyway, but that s only when a cigarette is the 
 alternative. 
 
 Collier (smiling). Ah, playing skeptic again! 
 But I know you know the one place under the sun 
 I had rather be. Elizabeth, I wonder how it will 
 seem not having you to go to 4 ? I ve grown hor 
 ribly dependent on you, haven t I? If this kind 
 of life down here could only go on always. That s 
 it what are they waltzing to in there now "One, 
 two, three, four! Take back your sheepskin A. B. 
 I ll not be whirled into the world!" Gee! I 
 wonder if a fellow ever comes to his commencement 
 without wanting to shout it at em "Take back 
 your sheepskin A. B." 
 
 Elizabeth (quoting softly). And leave us "the 
 Quad and the Row and the foothills low." That s 
 the hold of the old place on us, but you see we have 
 to grow up some time, don t we? 
 
 Collier (moodily). Worse luck, we do! 
 
 Elizabeth (banteringly) . Better luck perhaps 
 than the proverbial jeans suggest. 
 
 [237]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 Collier. Oh, that kind, plenty of that ! It s the 
 other things, the things I ve got here with you, 
 Elizabeth. The world outside is so unattractive by 
 contrast, after these dream days. A fellow forgets 
 how provincial it all is and hates the launching out 
 into reality. And then when your life is all cut and 
 dried for you. That s the kind of a life I m bound 
 to drift into up there in the city. 
 
 Elizabeth (feebly). It doesn t sound much like 
 Kipling s road of intentions, does it? 
 
 Collier. Well, hang it all ! Elizabeth, when 
 your family has it all mapped out for you, stepping 
 into the old man s business, inheriting the family 
 friends and connections, accepting eventually, I 
 suppose, even the marriage prescribed for you 
 
 Elizabeth. Philip, don t be flippant! Who s 
 the cynic now 1 ? 
 
 Collier (smiling helplessly). You see the simple 
 truth is there s no reasonable excuse under heaven 
 why I shouldn t do just the things decreed. I ve no 
 plans of my own! I m an aimless beggar, Eliza 
 beth. You know it! I don t see why the deuce 
 you ve had the patience with me that you have. I m 
 not worth my salt! 
 
 Elizabeth. You don t know what you re worth 
 until you ve tried, Philip. 
 
 [238]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 Collier (musingly). It s no use. I can see it all. 
 Nothing that I could decently balk at, nothing 
 unless the girl, perhaps, but after all you know it s 
 six of one and half a dozen of the other your 
 chances of happiness anyway. It will probably be 
 some one quite as purposeless and mediocre as my 
 self some dainty, amiable little thing, who is suit 
 able, eminently suitable, and of whom mother ap 
 proves heartily. It isn t exactly an ideal way of 
 looking at things, is it, but it s more like real life, 
 the kind of life before me, Elizabeth. 
 
 Elizabeth. Whatever has come over you, Philip 1 ? 
 I have never heard you talk like this. You know 
 you don t believe it! 
 
 Collier. I have never been facing the threshold 
 before and all that sort of thing. I don t know what 
 I believe, Elizabeth. I am just cut to the pattern, 
 that s the truth. I hate my limitations like every 
 thing. I ve even almost got beyond them some 
 times down here with you, but it won t last, it 
 won t last! 
 
 Elizabeth. That s a cheering thought with which 
 to set sail from the land where the winds of freedom 
 blow. 
 
 Collier. Oh, here I am boring you with my life 
 prospects and their assured degeneration when I 
 
 [239]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 ought to be giving you a decent time. We have had 
 some happy old days, haven t we, Elizabeth. I ll 
 miss you like everything, and you ll probably be 
 way down South there, teaching some wretched little 
 beggars their alphabet in French. Whenever you 
 come North you ll let me know, won t you 4 ? The 
 mater wants to ask you to visit us. I ve told her a 
 lot about you and she s anxious to know you. 
 
 Elizabeth (feebly). That is very kind of her, I 
 am sure. I doubt if I ll be up again before the big 
 game in the Fall, though. 
 
 Collier. We aren t going to be utter strangers by 
 that time are we, Elizabeth 4 ? You must promise to 
 write and to cheer me up now and then, and I ll do 
 my part toward keeping you posted on things here 
 how many new rigs Parsons has acquired, how much 
 longer the menu at Wilson s has grown, and where 
 the fellows are sending their orchids from. 
 
 Elizabeth (unconsciously crushing the petals of 
 one of the orchids she wears, until there is a great 
 purple stain on her gown). You will be coming 
 back then sometimes for for mere memory of the 
 dream days ? 
 
 Collier. I ll have to come ! To steal down now 
 and then, you know, when things have been "wrink 
 ling in my heart for ages," as Jimmy says just for 
 
 [240]
 
 SENIOR FINALITIES 
 
 the memories of the old place and the fellows, of 
 course. (Glancing apprehensively at Elizabeth s 
 non-committal face and straightening his shoulders 
 as if to take a new hold on things.) Gee ! but we re 
 getting gloomy. Let s wander into pastures new. 
 
 Elizabeth (with an heroic attempt at banter). 
 Aren t the decorations perfect and the floor is 
 
 Collier (looking down at her ankle with a rather 
 sick smile). Simply superb. 
 
 Elizabeth. And the gowns are there! I defy 
 you to finish that. 
 
 Collier. Terribly smart. (With unconscious 
 frankness.) It does make a lot of difference, doesn t 
 it 1 ? There are a lot more society girls down tonight 
 than usual. Kitty and I were just counting up ten 
 altogether. That s a pretty good percentage out of 
 eighty. They make things hum, don t they 4 ? 
 
 Elizabeth. Rather too much, I thought you com 
 plained, after the last "Friday night" you went up 
 for. Is it the mere glamour of environment that 
 makes the difference tonight or perhaps the bas- 
 relief of comparison*? 
 
 Collier (heroically). Well, when that s one s life, 
 one might as well fall victim gracefully. There s 
 nothing like the artistic susceptibility ! By the way, 
 Elizabeth, I won t be able to take you driving in 
 
 [241 ]
 
 NO? INCLUDED IN A SHEEPSKIN 
 
 the morning. I am terribly sorry, but Mother tele 
 phoned down after dinner to ask me to take Kitty to 
 Redwood tomorrow. Her aunt, Mrs. Sawyer, has 
 arranged to have us to luncheon or something. I 
 hope I haven t kept you from anything else. 
 
 Elizabeth (quietly). Oh no ! our plans were only 
 tentative, of course in fact, I was going to tell you 
 I shouldn t be able to go. 
 
 Collier. It s beastly luck ! 
 
 Elizabeth (her face colourless and drawn as she 
 turns toward him). Do you know my ankle is 
 throbbing horribly. I wonder if I may be a nuisance 
 and ask you to take me home 1 ? Oh ! no, I don t care 
 for any supper, thank you! That s our rig at the 
 end of the curbing, isn t it? Will you call him 
 please and I ll have my wraps in a moment. (Pass 
 ing Peter in the lower Hall dancing.) Peter, I am 
 going home. Come up with the girls tonight, will 
 you to help me pack, dear? 
 
 [242]
 
 TTBRAFY 
 
 THE Li BRAKY
 
 PS 
 
 3511 
 
 F88?n 
 
 A 000922944