Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2006 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/maroontalesOOcupprich MAROON TALES MAROON TALES UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO STORIES By Will J. Cuppy CHICAGO FORBES & COMPANY 1910 Copyright, 1909, by Forbes & Company ?S$505 To L. A. V. P. 3739 CONTENTS Page The Extra Major 7 The Wisdom of Hawkins - 61' Some Odes and Some Episodes - - 95 The Indiscretions of Yvonne de la Plaisance 135 Big Boys and Little Boys - - - 181 Including the Doctorate - 215 The Great Paste-pot Handicap - - 267 Honors in Diplomacy - 311 MAROON TALES THE EXTRA MAJ ^pHE Quarterly Announcement dre exceed- -*■ ingly useful. They are gooC to wrap sand- wiches and things in, «and to fan with in class ; also, they enable the sopbofiores to tell whether the ' * jf6ips ' ' come at^ivenient periods. Some freshmen read them through to the last foot- note — no one else ever does — under the impres- sion that they may take their choice of the courses, 'or perhaps ifc^tne belief that the big w-hite folders are the veritable catalogues of their own accomplishments four years later. Both conceptions are interesting. But the freshmen need no warning against dangerous mental exertion. Only a few of them — those with abnormally developed fore- heads — injure their health in that way. The rest are busy scurrying about the campus for the valuable something or other they think they are going to find. The something or -other usually finds them; often on thejffrsi day ; and MAROON TALES occasionally when it seems almost too late. You may call it College Spirit, or merely an Idea. It is not in the Announcements. Phil Jennings, who used to insist upon mak- ing observations like these, modestly admitted that he had evolved them out of the ad- ventures of nis freshman year. When he threatened to go into details, his friends would groan cheerfully and tell him that the same old things happened td r about a thousand others. But that, as Phil would solemnly remark, was precisely the point. Philip Howard Jennings, Jr., had no special convictions on the significance of the col- legiate experience when he came to Chicago. He just hoped he would get a great deal out of the University, as his father had advised. This was rather fortunate, since opinionated freshmen are both unhappy and annoying ; they suffer more or less when their notions sicken and die, and they worry the sophomores, who do not learn to smile at all human frailties , until farther filong in the year. "•* Philip "Hcfward Jennings, Jr., was eighteen /: Jearjs tjf. a$e.a,nd : f airly good-looking, and he was 8 THE EXTRA MAJOR usually hungry. He.had a good head, which contained a healthy freshman brain. The boy began by registering for three majors — a major, he learned, was the unit of work, and he would get nine each year. In the dean's office, he conferred with , the small freshman next in line about the advisability of taking one or two Sociology courses, while the fellow in front was trying the official soul with original suggestions concerning his schedule. The small freshman, who winked confidentially and bobbed his head at each whispered com- munication, said he knew which were the "snap" classes. A fellow out under the clock had told him. But Phil asked no questions when he was instructed to take English 1, German 1 and History 1; therefore the dean smiled kindly upon him — about fifty other freshmen were waiting to be ministered to. The dean shook hands quite cordially when he no- ticed the name at the top of the registration slip, and said he knew Phil Jennings and was glad to meet his son. That made up for the Sociology courses. Many a freshman would have liked to know Dean Jackson and shake hands with him that way. MAROON TALES When Phil had paid his tuition, he felt that at last he was a part of the University. And he liked the feeling. He liked the great, gray, English Gothic buildings, with their steep, red roofs and their plain, strong outlines, and he liked what he saw through the windows. Most of all, he liked the looks of the fellows all about him. He liked everything and everybody on the campus, with the single exception of Freddy Ball, whom he detested. As Freddy was his roommate, he could not ignore the obtrusive fact that he existed. A singularly painful dispensation of Provi- dence had condemned Phil and Freddy to unpleasant companionship. It was their mis- fortune to be cousins, and both were heartily ashamed of it. Their mothers, the most loving of sisters, would have been terribly shocked had they known of the unnatural animosity harbored by their sons. For that reason alone the boys had refrained from damaging each other's faces, and always exchangee Christmas and birthday gifts, accompanied ty excessive written expressions of regard, whicl were meant to be withering. A little girl with irresistible pigtails and ai 10 THE EXTRA MAJOR entrancing giggle had started the trouble. This charming young person moved away and was forgotten, but the cousinly warfare continued. Freddy told his friends that he could stand Phil Jennings if he were not such a tin saint on top of his meanness, and Phil thought he might be able to endure Freddy if he weren't such a loud-mouthed little insect. And now Mrs. Jen- nings and Mrs. Ball had conceived the uncanny plan of making college chums of their sons, explaining with simple foresight that the boys could not possibly become lonesome under such an arrangement. They had taken the trouble to insure the joint occupancy of the very room where the sweet communion was to thrive. Phil was not the kind that turns the other cheek, but he imagined, as he drank in all the new mysteries of that first morning, that even Freddy might improve in the inspiring sur- roundings. He felt that he would even be will- ing to forgive him a few things. After a hasty luncheon at the Commons, where he wondered about the portraits, and at the size of the crowd, he found Freddy in the room in Hitchcock, tacking pictures into the wall, against the com- bined regulations of the Department of Build- 11 MAROON TALES ings and Grounds and the Head of the House. "I 'm certainly glad I came, Fred," he be- gan, out of the fulness of his heart. "Just see those buildings. And the dean — Dean Jackson — knows father. I remember now that father said " "For Heaven's sake, cut out your father for a minute," sputtered Freddy, who was quite warm and excited because the wall kept chip- ping off and because he had nearly swallowed a tack a moment before. "Try to forget that you 're related to your father. Your father 's in Kansas and you 're here. You " Freddy stopped suddenly and said "Damn!' very incisively, when the hammer slipped and struck his chubby forefinger. Phil scorned to reply or even to laugh at the accident, but dragged his trunk to the center of the floo and set to work. It took an hour to decorate the room. Whe it was finished, John came in with some line and said, "You all 's freshmans, ain't yoT and then departed with a knowing smile o his black face. For the decorations were dis tinctive ; a senior could have drawn conclusion even more comprehensive than the janitor's 12 . THE EXTRA MAJOR Freddy had chosen the wall opposite the door with an eye to the possibilities of the broad mantelpiece, which he had embellished with a collection of miscellaneous objects, including a copper chafing-dish, a pottery tobacco-jar, a nickel alarm-clock, a small cloisonne vase, a glaring red poster of the Evil One surrounded by a group of sophisticated young women, and a print of the "Mona Lisa." Above this exhi- bition he hung a tennis net trimmed with an armful of souvenir dance programs. Along the molding he strung a line of actresses' photo- graphs, clipped from a theatrical magazine. He filled the vacant spaces with cartoons that had been reproduced in the annual of the acade- my he had attended the year before. Phil gave the place of honor in the center of his wall to the framed photographs of his father and mother. The high school graduat- ing class, each proud member sternly display- ing the self-consciousness characteristic of this pinnacle of educational achievement, occu- pied an important position directly under Mr. and Mrs. Jennings. The picture of a girls' club and a dozen sepia prints of familiar mas- terpieces, done in passe-partout by Mrs. Jen- 13 MAEOON TALES nings, completed the impression. Freddy sniffed at the result when he had finished a pleased survey of his own riotous handiwork, and asked his cousin if he did not fear he had overdone the thing. Then he followed John downstairs. He had not improved. A freshman needs a long time to empty his trunk, if he is an orderly person and wants to find nooks and corners for the disposal of the bushels of perfectly useless things he has brought with him. If not, he pitches the heap of left-overs into his closet — Freddy' closet already contained a heterogeneous mass Phil had just discovered a top shelf for his su- perfluous shoes and hats when the postman brought him a letter from his father, with a note from his mother enclosed. He read the both without smiling. There was nothing t smile about. "It is strange that this offer should hav come so soon after you left," his father' letter concluded. ' ' I forgot to say that Haider man's secretary rushed down to the statio to see you, but missed the train. As you ha decided some time ago to take up this work you could get it, I wished to notify you at one 14 e : THE EXTRA MAJOR Of course, you know I am not thinking of the financial side of it, but I believe it would do you more good than college. You know the op- portunities with Halderman are very excep- tional. It's a capital beginning for a young man. However, you are to decide for yourself. ' ' His mother's note was quite unlike her ordinarily calm and gentle letters. It concerned Freddy. Freddy's mother had been weeping about her boy ever since he left. She had con- fessed, hysterically, that he was not what he seemed to be — in fact, he was inclined to be wild and reckless. He smoked cigarettes and said strange things in his sleep. He had come home one night in a very queer condition. His mother feared it was beer. "Phil, dear," Mrs. Jennings wrote, "do something to stop him before it is too late. We know your influence over him. Be with him as much as possible. Remember, Phil, it will be worth while." Phil seriously doubted this last assertion, and also the necessity for missionary work. But anyhow, he decided, he would observe Freddy more closely, and if he had been going it too fast, he might do something about it. 15 MAEOON TALES His father's letter had sent unhappy thrills over his freshman being. It was not pleasant to get that kind of advice on his first day at col- lege, even though he knew his father would not insist upon his accepting the offer from Haider- man. Phil threw the letters into the drawer of his study-table. Just now he wanted to ex- plore the campus. He wanted to get the lay of the wide network of cement walks and find out for himself where his classes would be held. He could remember easily enough on which floors of Cobb his courses would come, but he had no idea what the rooms would look like. And he had been told that there were a lot of museums in which you could stroll around for hours without be- ginning to exhaust their mysteries. Those queer stone benches by the walks had looked interesting, too. As he was very innocent, he did not know that it is contrary to the rules of sociability for a good-looking freshman to wander alone about the campus on opening day. He was just sauntering slowly away from Hitchcock when three youths, approaching arm in arm, hailed him. 16 THE EXTRA MAJOR "You are Jennings, aren't you?" asked one of them, whom Phil recognized as the fellow that had come into the registration room in the morning, apparently searching for some one. He seemed so sure of his man that he did not wait for Phil's answer. "I heard you were here — heard it from Dean Jackson," he explained; "and I looked up your room number. No, thanks, we can't go up," as Phil turned and was about to invite them in. "My name is Taylor, and I want you to meet Wallace and Norton here. Hope we 're not keeping you from an engagement." "No, I was not going any place in particu- lar. Glad you came," Phil answered. "Certainly, we 're not detaining you," agreed the one introduced as Wallace, gravely smoothing his red hair. "We 're just holding you up. You can't get away when you 're sur- rounded on three sides, like an archipelago, can you?" "An archipelago is not surrounded on three sides, Red," said Norton, the stocky, earnest- faced fellow. ' ' That 's an isthmus or a plateau or something." "Some day the i profs' are going to get on to 17 MAROON TALES those fellows,' ' laughed Taylor. "They ought to take a tonic for their minds, if they have any such organs/ ' "The mind is not an organ, Albert. Is it, Jennings ?" appealed the red-headed one. Phil admitted his ignorance of the point in question. He thought it strange that he should be discussing geographical and physiological problems with three young men that he had never seen until a moment before. "Can you dine with us at the Eho house this evening, Jennings f" asked Taylor. "I hope you can." "I '11 drop in at your room and pick you up," Wallace volunteered. "Thanks, I '11 come, and I '11 find it all right myself," Phil said. "Don't bother to call for me." Taylor wrote the address of the Rho house on a card, and the three fellows shook hands with Phil and rushed into Snell Hall. Halfway to Cobb, Phil met Freddy, skip- ping joyously along toward the room with a stubby-bodied, red-cheeked little fellow, who seemed to be telling a remarkable experience 18 THE EXTRA MAJOR of some sort. Freddy was slapping him on the back and screaming appreciation. "Phil, shake hands with Mr. Blythe. Blythe, this is Jennings, my cousin," Freddy said as they came up, in the courteous tone he always employed when he felt superior. "You Ve heard me speak of Tommy Blythe that I prepped with? Well, this is Blythe. ' * This proud identification of the stubby boy seemed to please him quite as thoroughly as it did Freddy. He chuckled delightedly and admitted that he was indeed the very fellow, but he hoped Ball had not told all there was to tell. He frowned darkly and shook his head at the mere recollection of these awful deeds. Evidently he regarded himself as a dangerous man. But his eyes were so round and blue, and his other features so fair and guileless that Phil was not much affected by his efforts to cre- ate the illusion of horrid debauchery, even when he lighted a long, gold-tipped cigarette and puffed at it savagely. The gorgeousness of Tommy *s raiment, too, was merely youth- ful; a real desperado would have wept at the buckles on the shoes and the cut of the trousers. Phil noticed a small button in the left lapel 19 MAEOON TALES of his coat. Freddy was making signs for him just to look at it. " Tommy wants ns to go over to the Phi Tau house to dinner tonight/ ' Freddy an- nounced, accenting the Greek letters broadly. 1 ' Tommy is a Phi Tau pledge. I accepted for you, of course. I '11 see you at the room at six o'clock.'' "The Ehos — too bad, too bad," lamented Tommy, when Phil told him of his previous appointment. "Because you'd have had a good time at our house. I'm afraid the Rhos are slow." It was fortunate for Tommy Blythe that his Phi Tau seniors did not hear this; they might have disciplined him. "Well, come to lunch tomorrow then, Jen- nings," he added affably. "All right, Jen- nings. See you tomorrow, Jennings." Phil looked back over his shoulder and saw the two of them skipping along past Snell and punching each other's ribs in the joy of their reunion. He was glad Freddy had found a mate ; later he was not certain about that. He walked on, stopping occasionally to take in the sweep of the campus and the different views of the buildings. When he reached Cobb, he THE EXTRA MAJOR thought he would see how it felt to sit on the attractive stone bench in front of the en- trance. Several fellows were lounging on it, chatting familiarly. Phil sat down on the edge, next the walk. No one had told him that he must not do this. The nearest fellow, who had been watching the freshman, slouched forward. "I beg a thousand pardons, young man, but I can't recall your face, though I may have heard the name," he said. "Let me see. Smith, perhaps ?" The stranger was very insolent, Phil thought, but he gave his last name. "Oh, it 's Jennings, is it?" the tall one ejac- lated. "He says his name is Jennings," he an- nounced to the others. "Willy Jennings, I suppose? No? Philip — how careless." He turned again and loudly informed the rest of the group that they were mistaken if they imagined the freshman's name was Willy, because it was Philly — Philly Jennings or Jenny Phillips, as they preferred. "Didn't the people in your town ever hear of the put in Norton. ' ( That fresh- man Grant asked me only the other day if he might not 'go along sometime, ' as if he had been begging a ticket to a private exhibition of old Beelzebub. He's already beginning to search for adventure. And then those fresh- men of ours have been getting into too many scrapes lately. They look innocent and say they Ve been terribly misjudged every time they get caught. ' ' "The appearance of evil!" Walters ex- claimed. "My, oh my, what a grand old loop- hole it is. Fact is, though, you can't always avoid it." "Oh, I guess you can keep out of trouble in college if you want to," remarked Larned, whose straightforward code comprehended neither mysteries nor complications. ' l Coming back to the point, ' ' breezed Landon, "we might say a few things about studying once in a while, but I guess they know that by this time. It will not be necessary to discuss 187 MAROON TALES their other duties to Chicago — we 've done that already. Just 'heart to heart/ as the preacher said." With his elbows on the table, Bugs finished: "It does seem strange to see all those long-legged little fellows doing stunts in col- lege. Seems as if they get younger and younger every year." 1 ' Well, they don 't, ' ' said Walters. ' « The av- erage age of freshmen is increasing along with their sophistication, so cheer up. Furthermore the 'little fellows ' would be awfully bored if they thought they were being analyzed by a bunch of six-hour grads. The trouble with us is that we can't see the babies in true focus — like the coat that Ted wore every day while he was growing so, without noticing how small it was getting. Remember how Williams asked you if you were hiring out as the human stretcher, Ted? Let 'em grow up in their own way, and don't force a lot of hothouse views on them. Personally, I believe the best ones will come out all right 1 and other famous pedagogical experts. The faculty seem to hold the same cold-blooded opinion.' ' "It 's wrong, anyway," objected Norton. 188 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS "What do people go to college for if not to be helped f" "To help themselves." "Platitude number ninety-seven in the i Edu- cators' Beady Handbook/ " said Norry. "Well," asked Larned, "are we going to preach at the party?" "We are," Landon assured him. "We are," said Norry, fervently. "Sure, I '11 assist in the good work," prom- ised Walters. "It 's all moonshine, but we '11 have plenty of time to blush about it after we get out into the and so forth. And I '11 guar- antee to draw more tears than the rest of you combined. It is agreed then that we are to de- part in a halo of ethical glory. We are to wind up our education as the four bright, unspotted lights, the salvation screamers, worthy ex- amples, and so on. Bight. Now, let's eat some of this green stuff. ' ' The Pillars felt quite serious about the fare- well smoker and their part in it — even Walters, who dreaded what he called "sloppiness," and made fun of his finer feelings — because it in- timately concerned many friends of whom they were fond. They might have sat there all 189 MAROON TALES night discussing their own moral solidity bu for the arrival of the salad and the performance of a startling divertisement by one of the cafe patrons. This person, aroused by the operatic selection, stuck his round, tipsy face into the squat, paper-trimmed stove, and began to sing in a loud, doleful tone. He was pulled out by the coat and assisted to his table, where he was received by his party with admiring joy, The Pillars smiled and began to " remember' ' things, for they could feel the time slipping past. "Remember the time V 9 Clear back to freshman year went Norry and Ted and Bugs and Pop — back to the very first Quarter when they all lived together in Snell and wore one another's clothes and smoked one another's pipes and woke one another with violent methods, including cold water and hot-foot They remembered the time they discovered, while dressing for a grand freshman function, that the common wardrobe contained but thre dress suits, and how Bugs was left out on th draw and sat around until early morning in th pomp of pearl studs and bath-robe, waiting i vain for Pop, who had promised to return and 190 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS give up the clothes in time for Bugs to get a dance or two; and the time they had Frank Beam arrested for " holding up" the fellows on dark nights, and how Beam proceeded to en- gage expensive counsel, telegraph his parents, pack his trunk and otherwise excite himself. They recalled even the time they trudged three miles through the snow to return some signs they had stolen, Pop having declared that Ben- jamin Franklin or Thomas Jefferson had once done the same thing with a pig or a loaf of bread, he could n't say which. "Remember old Sleeping Samuel V\ mused Walters, and Samuel was promptly remem- bered ; poor, tired old Samuel, whose useless ef- forts to secure sufficient rest resulted in his going about in a red-lidded daze most of the time, saying little except to reiterate that he was "almost even with the clock now," and the elaborately flimsy excuses he evolved in support of his aversion for class lectures ; how he would say that there was one day in the week when his nine-thirty did not meet and he feared that was the day, and if it ivas, there would be no earthly sense in going to it, and if it was not, he would be late anyway and get marked absent. Then 191 MAROON TALES lie would wink his left eye — no, his right eye — as if he half realized how absurd he was, and flop over and go to sleep again in that everlast- ing striped brown quilt. And there was Hein- rich, in sophomore year, who quoted proverbs, which the fellows would reverse or twist into whimsical nonsense, much to his bewilderment ; it always took Heiny a second or two to remem- ber whether he had said the right thing. And then came Alfred, called The "Wise, who pro- nounced everything correctly and quoted the classics and said, "I fear you have neglected your Hegel," and never could understand why the fellows laughed. "Do you suppose the fellows will all be back next year — all but us?" asked Norton, fumb- ling with a small coffee-cup. " Don't know," said Landon. "Pour the brandy over the sugar and light it. No thanks — I don't like cognac." The Pillars talked devoutly of the glories of their early days in college; of the fine flower that flourished on the campus in sophomore year, for instance, when the most wonderful persons loafed in front of Cobb and spoke fcfe 192 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS mass meetings in Kent and Mandel, and per- formed amazingly on the gridiron. Then came the familiar incidents of Class Day: the senior play and the senior frolic in Sleepy Hollow with the sack and pillow-races and the baseball game. Walters had fanned three times in the game and only failed to make more errors because of his limited number of chances. Afterward there had been the class luncheon, and a lecture on "Independence" by a Doctor of Laws ; and the bench exercises, with numerous inaudible addresses by scared young men and women, and some fine jokes which most of the parents applauded, although they did not understand. Katherine Snowden had been quite successful with her Class History speech, referring proudly to the vast amount of learn- ing absorbed by "this remarkable class." One of the senior girls said that Kitty should be an authority on the point, since she owed her degree to a solid week of cramming such as Fos- ter Hall never before had witnessed. She had kept up bravely on a diet of chocolate and crack- ers. And how everybody had strutted and looked pleased at Convocation! The Pillars 193 MAROON TALES could not recall why they had felt so exaltec as they marched into Mandel. "I feel kind of gloomy/ ' Larned remarked. "Let 's talk show. I thought I caught a new joke by the comedian. Did you get it? The mother-in-law was coming to visit the family, and the wife was glad and the husband was not. Clever little thing, eh?" "I know a nice little story about a murder and suicide," suggested Norton. "Save it," advised Landon. "Remember, fellows, that this is not a fu- neral," said Walters. "It is the bright flower- ing — grand opportunities — now about to enter more fully — awfully jolly old chap, that orator." Pop said it somewhat dismally, and the alum- ni fell silent. People were leaving the restau- rant. The dirty poodle, attached to a leash, was pulling the soiled child toward the door. The intense young woman had closed her book and was winding a wrinkled veil about her neck. The proprietor turned down the lights on one side of the room. "Let 's have a little decent fizz," said Walters. 194 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS The fizz was brought. It bubbled up merrily through the hollow stems. The rims of the glasses clicked softly, one against the other, and at each musical contact, two boys glanced swiftly across and into clear-gazing eyes. The alumni sipped, and looked down at the table a good deal. After a while Lamed pushed back his chair. It scraped harshly on the floor. Then Ted stood up, the whole two yards of him. "Let 's hike," he said. " Where ?" asked Pop. "Home. Let *s all go out to the house — to- gether — like we used to." 195 MAROON TALES II The Four Pillars of the Temple strolled toward the street-car with the satisfying knowl- edge that they had voluntarily celebrated a rather privileged occasion in an altogether de- corous manner. They felt just a bit righteous over this fact, but that was because they were sincere. They were not hypocrites. Larned, leading the way through the unfamiliar district, observed that they had been mighty decent for Bachelors of Philosophy. The narrow, cross-town street interested the Pillars. There were gaudy little restaurants, advertising a great variety of food at wonder- fully low prices ; and a shooting-gallery with a black-and-white menagerie scene in which rab- bits and doves chased each other around a never-weary target-wheel to the nervous music that is peculiar to shooting-galleries; and " pen- ny arcades" where fashionable young women, adorned with diamond earrings and toothpicks, sorted towers of coins, while dirty urchins cranked the disappointing picture-machines; and fruit stands where small men with bristling 196 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS mustaches stood guard over pyramids of oranges and pails of sun-bleached, weather- beaten chocolates. From the avenue of horrors, they emerged into the fringe of down-town State Street, where the lights were brighter and the people noisier. "This is a fine place for you to be in, Ted," taunted Walters. "It *s Whisky Row," answered Larned. "I guess you children never have been here. I went through it once with a fellow who was in- vestigating it for some society. I think he wanted me as an anti-bouncer. There 's one slug down here who would make the finest full- back ever — regular human catapult." They walked slowly along the ugly street, peering curiously at the electric arches and signs of saloons sandwiched ironically between pawn shops and second-hand establishments. The contending beat of "music" came from each gleaming entrance, the shriek of an impu- dent phonograph clamoring from one, the de- spondent saw-saw of an orchestra from the next, the whole blending into a dissonance that was weird and depressing. Many people 197 MAROON TALES swarmed along the walks. Most of the peoph had queer faces. "Kind of reeks, this place/ ' Norton re- marked. "Sure does," said Walters. "By the way, look at the bout/ ' Two men had begun to kick and curse each other, and the crowd was rushing to see the fun. The men were rolling and clawing in the street. One of them resembled an over-ripe strawberry, his yellow, stubbled beard pricking through a swollen red face; the other, almost any kind of decayed fruit or vegetable, for his facial color scheme was wholly indeterminate, but for a small spot of blood on his cheek, and his eyes swam sickeningly, and he had no eyebrows at all. A fat policeman broke through the crowd, separated the combatants, and led them, whimpering, to the corner. The police- man used his club to force his way, and Larned got a sharp tap on the shoulder. 1 1 Look out, there, ' ' Ted flashed. ' ' Keep your stick to yourself/ ' The officer turned an indignant gaze on the Pillars and muttered something as he proceeded to the corner with his captives. 198 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS "Careful, Teddy/ ' warned Norton. "Don't get us into a free-for-all with that giant egg — I should say, with that ellipsoid. He looks like a bad one. ' f "I'd like to break his shell for him," scowled Ted, leading the Pillars across the street toward the Wabash Avenue car. The Four Pillars halted on the far corner to watch a most amazing procession of intoxi- cated persons, who appeared to be going home for the night. The tipsy ones strung past in a continuous file, like fantastic marchers in some burlesque ceremonial passing the review- ing stand at well-timed intervals. Some tried to walk erect and some made no attempts; some mumbled to themselves and some cursed weakly. One was a cripple, on crutches — it looked strange to see a one-legged man stagger- ing that way. "That 's pitiful," commented Larned. "I wouldn't mind doing something for them if I could. Got a notion to speak to one of them." "Sure — reform them," said Pop. "That seems to be your specialty tonight." "Here 's the very boy," laughed Ted, point- ing to a chubby, crimson-faced old fellow who 199 :aroon tales was staggering toward the corner with consid- erable difficulty. The old man seemed to be en- joying himself vastly. He rolled and swayed, and evidently derived much amusement from each lurching recovery. He would laugh glee- fully and then slyly stop his mouth with a fat palm, leering absurdly at nothing. As he came even with the Pillars, he screwed up his face in a ludicrous effort to convey some message to the corner lamp-post. "He 's a good-natured old dog," grinned Pop. "Hey, there, old Dionysus/ ' Larned called, and the alumni sauntered to meet the frolic- some one. "I think " began Ted. But it is not certain what he thought, for at that instant a heavy hand descended upon him, and he whirled round to encounter the unfriendly gaze of the giant ellipsoid. "What do youse want?" snorted the in- truder. "We're just looking. We don't care to buy," returned Walters. Larned did not feel like answering the gruff officer. I thought so," said the ellipsoid. "Just 200 n BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS lookin' is good — lookin' for somethiIl , easy. Up to your old tricks. Well, I 've been lookin' fer youse, I have." "I beg your pardon ?" smiled Pop, with a degree of politeness that was hardly neces- sary. "Oh, you're awful innocent, ain't youse ?" sneered the arm of the law. "I suppose youse ain't the parties that 's been hangin' around here fer two weeks. I suppose you was n't try- in' to start a riot over there," directing a spat- ulate finger toward the scene of the drunken street fight. "If you ain't the same parties, how does it come that I 'm talkin' to youse here?" The ellipsoid expanded with conscious pride at what evidently considered an incon- trovertible argument. "You talk like a squirrel," blurted Norry. "We certainly have not been hanging around here for two weeks." The officer saw fit to overlook this interrup- tion. "What 'd youse yell at this guy fer?" he demanded of Lamed. "You 're a smooth worker, you are. Did youse get what you was after?" 201 [AKOON TALES Ted did not understand this, but the derelict was wiser. "They cleaned me," blubbered the tramp, turning out two bottomless pockets. "Shut up," yelled the policeman, rewarding the old man with a kick. "Who 's a doin this?" Turning on Walters, "I '11 learn youse, I will." "Pardon me again," replied Pop in the icily deferential tone that always betrayed angry disturbances in the deepest wells of his wrath. * ' Forgive my mentioning it, but your use of the verb to learn is not permissible, even collo- quially. You are extremely inelegant." This bit of humor seemed to displease the patrolman. He immediately told Pop what he thought of him. What he thought of Pop was very picturesque and ungrammatical. The Pil- lars, believing themselves insulted, returned language which should have reduced the ellip- soid to tears, but did not. At the very height of one of his extravagant compliments, Pop was suddenly seized by his light flannel trousers, whirled rudely through the air, and tossed upon the sidewalk beside the intoxicated old man. Then the Pillars heard a shrill whistle, and saw 202 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS a small, wiry policeman running toward them. The new arrival stood guard while the ellipsoid muttered into a blue box on the corner. "What 's that fathead up to!" panted Nor- ton. "Are we arrested f" Lamed and Landon were not certain. "I 'm sure I don't know," said Walters, inspecting his ruined trousers. "I think, however, that the giant egg is going to do something nice for us. He seems so pleasant and congenial.' ' "Fergit it," advised the ellipsoid. "Are you joking with us, or what *s up, any- way?" Norry asked the officer. ' ' They '11 be here in a minute, now, ' 9 was the answer. "Who?" The arm of the law twirled his baton and re- fused to impart further information. Eepulsed, the Pillars held a consultation. Vengeance up- on the fat policeman at some future date was openly hinted. Walters ostentatiously took the numbers of the officers' stars, whereat the of- ficers smiled. The inebriated marchers were now slowly parading back to the corner in morbid expecta- tion of "the wagon." Old Dionysus seemed 203 MAEOON TALES almost convulsed at the sight. He waved marvellously dirty handkerchief, and winked, and pounded his hands on his knees, so great was his mirth. Only when he saw the patrol- wagon racing toward him, did he desist. Then, on general principles, he retired rapidly in the direction of the nearest alley. The patrol-wagon backed to the curb, the ser- geant and his assistant jumped down and whisked the Pillars into the dim body of the vehicle, held a mysterious conference with the ellipsoid, jumped back in, slammed the door, and told the driver to "let 'er go," which the driver did. The "arrests" did not enjoy the ride. Landon maintained a deadly silence, which would have been dignified but for the rolling, jolting motion of the patrol. Larned's emotions verged on disbelief as he vainly en- deavored to discover some attractive quality in his captors, some vulnerable point at which sympathetic humor might be expended to ad- vantage. Norton raged and sputtered. Walters was terribly calm and collected and flippant and pale. He even managed to laugh once or twice. With an exaggerated gesture that proved how self-possessed he was, he drew out his sil- 204 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS ver cigarette-case, selected a monogrammed cigarette, lighted it, and puffed a mouthful of perfumed smoke. 11 Douse that thing/ ' ordered the sergeant. Pop smoked on. " Douse that, young feller.' ' Pop glanced at the officer with the slightest hint of aggrieved surprise, as one whose eye instinctively lights upon and flickers instantly away from the person who audibly relishes his soup. He really did not feel called upon to obey this boor. So the rude patrolman " doused it" himself and ground the little white stick under his heel. "I 'd as lief see a son of mine in the grave as smokm* one of them coffin nails," he confided to the officer across the aisle. "I M rather be cremated than be a distant rel- ative of yours," said Pop, carefully picking out another nail for his coffin and lighting it. Whereupon the policeman used sterner means than mere talk. " Pop's fillings rattled," said Norry, afterward. The rebuke had a quelling effect on the passengers. The jolting wheels finally stopped, and the descent was effected. The alumni caught a glimpse of a forbidding 205 MAROON TALES brick building and a tall depot-tower wit! clock in it as they were led past a receiving line of policemen and down some steps into a dark, narrow areaway. They stopped before a large door, which opened to a barred gate that swung open. The reception committee led the new guests into a long cement-floored room which gave the impression of many rows of iron doors and much alcohol and many ugly faces. They brought up before a desk, behind which sat a functionary who seemed to be tired of liv- ing, and probably was. "Here they are," said the sergeant. "They Ve been a bothering Mulligan fer a week and Murphy finally got 'em. They Ve been raisin ' hell on that corner fer a long time." Larned would have liked to meet Mulligan and Murphy. The lockup-keeper was already proferring small printed forms. "Sign up," said he; "name, age, where was you born, married or single." Landon registered first, rejecting a sugges- tion that he use another name. The policeman looked at the signature. 206 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS "Now, that you know who his father is, per- haps you 'd better stop this funny business,"* said Norton. "Fergit it," said the sergeant. "We had a foreign noble in here half an hour ago and the son of a U. S. president before him. Makes no difference. Sign up, you." Norton and Larned complied. Walters tossed an engraved visiting card on the desk, declaring himself incapable of reading or writing. The officer said he would see about that later, adding, "Mulligan '11 be glad to see 'em." "Mulligan won't," replied Larned. "Be- cause we never set foot on that corner before. You 've got us dead wrong, officer. We were simply going out to the University, where we came from." "Maybe you was and maybe you wasn't," was the stern rejoinder. "You collegers think you can put us on the blink like a lot of village constables, but you can't. We haint so green." "Of course," said Walters, "we do not in- tend to remain here. What are the little pre- liminaries?" Pop reached for his purse, as 207 MAKOON TALES if prepared to pacify the law with a handsome tip. "Two hundred apiece, bail. Who do yon want notified?" said the lockup-keeper. "Notify the mayor — notify the whole town/ Walters flared. "We 'd like to get it in th< paper — on the front page." "Shut up. We 've got to be bailed out, you fool," said Larned. To the patient official "Call up Hyde Park double-naught and ask Taylor to come here. T-a-y-1-o-r — Taylor. Yes he owns real estate in town. Ask him to brin his large car and tell him to stay mum about it. "Do you think Al will keep it dark?" aske Landon. "If he does not," said Ted, feelingly, "I '11 kill him alive. See any antique chairs around here?" The lockup-keeper had other arrangements in mind. He silently beckoned the Pillars toward the disorderly row. Pop's previous flow of per- sonalities may have had something to do with the gloomy person's choice of his new quart-' ers. He was pushed into an ill-smelling cell that was already more than two-thirds filled. He stood close up against the iron door, while 208 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS Norry and Ted and Bngs were ushered into the next cell, which they were permitted to occupy alone. " Cheer up, kid," said a cheerful and chinless young man, who seemed to be a sort of bell-hop. "You haint an American citizen till you Ve been pinched onct." The incarcerating of the clean, flanneled youths was greeted by the other prisoners with jibes and jeers. Pop's cell was most unpleas- ant. He was sure it was insanitary, if not act- ually pestilential. His fellow-guests shoved and elbowed him and made remarks about his clothes. An odorous vagrant clung to his arm, earnestly desiring a "chaw" and a quar- ter. When these articles were not supplied him, he directed his importunities to the next apartment. ' ' Have n 't got any. I don 't chaw, ' ' said Ted. "What are you in fer, pard?" queried the vagrant. Walters answered for Larned. "He *s just here to influence the prisoners," he said, smil- ing easily at Ted. "He 's being an example. He is full of kind deeds and has character and is very superior. He 's also a professional 209 AKOON TALES orator, getting material for a speech for tomor row night — to-night, I mean. Wants to go down in history as one of the late martyrs." "That 's an excruciating joke, Pop," said Larned. "It 's really side-splitting." "Of course, I admit that it is not funny," re- turned Pop ; "it is tragic. By the way, Ted, I don't believe many of the freshmen ever have been pinched. You can warn them about it. Now, looking at you through the bars, I should say " i ' Cut the dude talk, ' ' snarled a peevish pris- oner. The entrance of more ' ' arrests ' ' and the con- sequent shifts and crowding made further com- munication between the two cells impossible. AValters fell back upon the conversational gifts of the vagrant, who was whining for tobacco, and some others, whose proficiency in the vernacular was at once astonishing and bewil- dering. But the smell of the whisky and stale things was very offensive, and Pop's head ached. He no longer felt flippant. It was much the same in the adjoining cell. It seemed hours before relief came in the person of the lockup- man, who called out the names of the Pillars 210 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS and released them through stingy openings of the iron gates. Al Taylor was waiting at a barred door at the foot of a winding flight of steps. He was quite gay. He took his elder brothers upstairs and introduced them to the desk-sergeant. Something was said about "nine o'clock sure." " I '11 see that they get here, ' ' Al promised. ' ' I hold myself responsible for their actions.' ' "Al, if you ever tell this, I '11 strangle you," said Larned, as they left the desk. "Oh, no, you won't," answered Al. "For if you did, there wouldn't be any one to bail you out. Come on." The Pillars drew long breaths of morning air as they passed out of the station door, and then they drew several shorter ones, because they were a little dazed. For they saw three large motors lined up before them. And in the mo- tors were about twenty boys in various stages of noisy delight. The faces of Mansfield Gar- rett Tompkins and Phil Jennings and Petey Strong and Bed Wallace were bright in the light of the street lamp. Little Jimmy Grant was leaning over the side of one of the cars, too tired to join in the racket. 211 MAROON TALES "This is a surprise for you," announced Al, waving an arm toward the Rho chapter. The seniors said very little. "It must have been quite a job to get all those children down here," Walters remarked. ' 1 Yes, you bet it was, ' ' agreed Al. i ' Some of 'em did n't want to come, but I thought it would be a good lesson. Now they know where we keep our criminal classes. Pile in." The Four Pillars of the Temple finally were seated after they had succeeded in quieting the Rhos, who fought for the honor of riding with "jail-birds." Lamed sat in the soft back seat of Taylor's car with Jimmy Grant on his lap. "Home, James," he ordered, as Al turned on the speed. "When 's the trial coming off?" yelled Red Wallace. "Nine o'clock," said Taylor. Larned grunted. "Nine o'clock," murmured Jimmy Grant, who had been temporarily roused from his stu- por. "Gee, that 's awful early. Will you have to be a witness or something, Ted?" "Yes, I suppose so." 212 BIG BOYS AND LITTLE BOYS "Well, you '11 just have time to get back to the party," the freshman faltered drowsily. 1 1 You know, you are to make a speech. ' ' "Yes, I know — as an alumnus — but never mind about that, Jimmy. I '11 make it very short." "Don't you worry about this — this scrape, Ted," sighed Jimmy. "The fellows will for- get it. We all — niake — mistakes — and " The freshman's head drooped lower, for he was very weary indeed. He had been ruthlessly tumbled out of bed, and somebody had jerked him into his clothes and buttoned him up all crosswise and dragged him to the automobile. He had slept most of the way down town and his eyes felt blinky and he was not enjoying him- self at all. Larned smiled down at the little fellow as the car whirred into an open, glitter- ing stretch of boulevard. Then he lifted Jim- my's aching body and settled it more comforta- bly in his lap and hugged the tired head against his big shoulder. "Go to sleep, youngster," he said. "Go on back to sleep." 213 INCLUDING THE DOCTOKATE O TEPHEN ANSLEY came down the steps ^ of the Psychological Laboratory in a com- fortable state of mind. He gave himself over, not without a mild consciousness of self-indulgence, to the enjoyment of a little swarm of pleasurable stimuli so marked and characteristic that they might just have escaped from the glass case where absurdly young Psych. 1 students may imagine they are kept with the funny papier-mache cer- ebrum and the Brobdingnagian eye and ear models. Such nonsense would not have oc- curred to Stephen, who was twenty-nine and al- most a Ph.D. — a Ph.D. with a summa, perhaps. For he had done a fine piece of work. He had finished a set of his research experiments a few minutes before, and his doctor's thesis would appear in the great scientific journal that tells about that kind of extraordinary and un- approachable achievements. It was enough to make anybody draw full, deep breaths and feel strong; anybody, of course, who goes in for those things. 215 MAEOON TALES He did not stop to leave his green book-bag at his room in Hitchcock across the street, where the early lights and hurrying figures proclaimed the hasty dinner preparations of the dormitory men; he was going to dine at his fraternity house instead of at the Commons. He wanted to see the Eho freshman pledges and shake hands with the whole crowd. It al- ways cheered him up. The pledges were young and happy and attractive — like Helen Barry, for instance, Stephen reflected. Stephen had particularly noticed Miss Barry that morning, when he had supplied for Pro- fessor White in Psychology 1. He flushed a little as he remembered that he had glanced at her over his glasses rather more than was becom- ing in an instructor. He had at least a partial excuse, however, as he had read and ad- mired her paper on " Association Centers' ' the night before. He had been surprised at the real merit — almost brilliance — of the exercise. She was pretty, too; much prettier than the other girls in Psych. 1. He hoped he would know her better. He meant to meet all the students and talk over the work — especially association centers. Stephen hardly ever allowed him- 216 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE self to think right out like that about young women. He hadn't time. Besides, as Eed Wallace put it, he suffered from an acute case of the intellectual point of view. Ked had no respect for learning. The pleasurable stimuli did their work well. By the time Stephen reached the Midway, he was humming a tune from a worn- out comic opera, not in the least disturbed either by the antiquity or the unethical implication of the verse, boasting more or less musically that of him 't was said that he painted things red. Stephen had never accomplished more than a faint pink in his life. When he turned in at the house, he felt like an under-classman again. He wrenched his bad knee when he foolishly tried to take the steps four at a jump, and an over- healthy freshman, coming at a bound from be- hind, banged into him and pushed him through the half-open door. A great clatter of glass and silver greeted him inside. The Khos were hav- ing their dinner. And dinner at the Eho house that evening was no ordinary function. Everybody was expected and everybody came, down to the last of the eight freshmen, because it was the night 217 MAKOON TALES before the annual initiation — even Mansfield Garrett Tompkins, still retaining his baptismal title through the failure of the sophomores to find a nickname that would adequately describe the case. Bugs Landon, the senior at the head of the upper-class table, arose and carried his soup to a lower place as the grad. shook hands with those nearest. At Stephen's right sat Professor Ford of the Sociology department, who had declined the position of honor. Pro fessor Ford was a Kho, and faculty ad viser to the Chicago chapter, in which capacity he called regularly once a year; he was an ex- pert in social economy. 1 ' Now, what do you think of this race conflic talk, Professor Ford?" Al Taylor was ask ing, as Bugs juggled his soup toward a vacan seat. Al prided himself on his conversationa skill. "Do you mean the track meet with Wiscons next month, or the conf erence 1 ' ' said Professo Ford. "I should say that both will b closely contested, though I understand we nee distance men." Bugs Landon, in the proces of seating himself, further ruffled the feeling of Al by festooning a dripping string of vermi 218 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE celli over his left ear. Although Al was a junior, he had not heard that Professor Ford, who knew all about the methods of ameliorating conditions in crowded communities, had once worn a big blue sweater and a big white letter. But that was long before Al cared about sweat- ers and letters. Eed Wallace, who had been unusually quiet, came to the rescue. "How are the little pink-noses, Stephen f." he inquired. Eed possessed only a languid interest in the white rats of the Psychological Laboratory, but he always greeted Stephen with apparent solic- itude for their welfare. When Stephen said, "Doing finely," Eed would gravely observe that they must be getting quite fat by this time, mustn't they. The rest of the Ehos never worried about the rats, though Bugs Landon had once referred to them as "the white horses of Ansleysholm ,, — a subtlety which had been lost on Bed, who thought conundrums in bad taste, anyway. "The first set of trials in the labyrinth are completed," said Stephen, solemnly. "I am encouraged to believe that I have proved my 219 MAEOON TALES theory of orientation in the rodent/ • H talked that way because he was obliged to. Polysyllabic profundity was his natural means of expression. "Fine business," cried Squib Morris. Squib wished to hear more about that orientation; he was deeply interested in the Orient. He had an imitation Turkish rug in his room and a cozy corner with bamboo cur tains and a red electric light. He smoked Amenhotep cigarettes and was addicted to such songs as "My Madagascar Beaut/ ' "My Spanish Lulu," and "My Africano Kiddo." And wasn't he going to take Spanish and Ger- man both next year? So wouldn't Stephe please spout the whole story? Stephen would he did. Stephen's remarks doubtless were informa tive — they were tiresome enough. He apparent ly exhausted the possibilities of the white ra several times, only to go back and drag ou more secrets about the creatures. You woul have thought the little beasts were literall stuffed with facts instead of proper insides He surcharged the dining room with th psychological-neurological-physiological vocab- 220 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE ulaiy. Most of the Rhos felt sleepy. Pro- fessor Ford said, "I see, Ansley," once or twice, and Squib was so disappointed at the entire lack of oriental coloring that he made no comment whatever, which was strange. The freshmen, beyond words for once, continued their automatic eating. When Mansfield Gar- rett Tompkins pretended to stuff his mouth with his napkin, the rest of the freshmen did likewise. They thought Stephen might be jok- ing after all, in which case they should be on the safe side. "So it seems quite clear that in this experi- ment the olfactory sensations played no part in the relation of the rats to the labyrinth. One of the rats solved the maze in record time," Stephen finished. "New sprinter. Great!" sniggered Mans- field Garrett, who, having failed dismally in his attempts to fashion the Leaning Tower of Pisa in crackers, found it absolutely im- perative to say or do something at once. The freshman was squelched with a glance from Landon. Mansfield Garrett liked Bugs; so he looked silly and shuffled his feet on the floor and looked down at his dessert until he hit upon 221 MAKOON TALES the brilliant plan of trying the Leaning Tower again. 1 i You said that similar experiments had been made with other animals in your department, did you not, Ansley?" Professor Ford asked. "Yes, a comparative study was undertaken at the outset. It was found that the guinea pig, a rodent almost completely medullated at birth, in distinction to the absence of medul- lated fibers in the peripheral and central nerv- ous systems of the rat, differs radically from the rat in its psychic life. Miss Hill carried out the guinea pig tests — Miss Charlotte Hill. Her thesis will be a most interesting and val- uable document. ,, That woke up Petey Strong, who had been a Daily Maroon reporter for a month, and knew a story. When fellow-freshmen asked Petey what he intended to make of himself, he would say: "Oh, a journalist, I guess. I 'm on The Maroon now." "Why didn't you come through with that before, Stephen V 9 he wailed from the fresh- man table. "Just bring me her picture next time you get around, with the story of your life 222 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE attached, and we '11 have a grand, glorious ro- mance out of it on the front page." Several of the Rhos were amused at this. Stephen and a girl! Stephen explained that he understood Miss Hill was engaged to a young Political Economy professor at another university — a Professor Dace, to be exact. Petey smiled resignedly. He had thought up such a good lead, in which "cloistered halls and ivied walls' ' should lend a sort of fancy touch to the story. He was still pitying him- self when Landon pushed back his chair by way of a rising signal. Professor Ford never stood on ceremony. He shook hands with everybody and left imme- liately for the West Side, where he was going to lecture on model tenements and social un- rest before some people who lived in the other kind and were wickedly contented. Stephen had come to see the freshmen, and he talked to them as long as they would stand still, which was about a minute apiece. Then they scurried upstairs or out of doors in search of books or space to stretch their growing legs in, accord- ing to their various ideas of scholastic ex- pediency. Groups of fellows sauntered to the 223 ; MAEOON TALES window-seats and curtained corners, busy initiation plans and the campus happening of the day. Bugs Landon and Red Wallace smoked and sang softly before the grate fir to Squib's thrumming piano accompaniment Stephen, who never smoked, lounged in a: easy chair and closed his eyes, while Squib switched from choppy chords to his favorite South Sea intermezzo and then to a long-suffer- ing ballad that was well suited to a quiet mood. Stephen sat very still, listening. He was thinking — of his thesis and of Psych Yes, he must meet the members of Professo White's class and talk over the work would help him in grading the papers. He must see Miss Barry about that point in he discussion of association centers. The long-suffering ballad grew softer. I was very slow and soothing, and Stephen re- laxed* He was in class again, and now Pro- fessor White was asking him the name of that pretty, black-eyed girl in the third row. . . . The music stopped with a flourish and a bang. Stephen's head thumped vigorously on the back of his chair. ''That is Helen Barry," he exclaimed, in 224 Le ■ e : INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE tones that reached the farthest window-seat, loud and startling. The astonished Rhos tangled themselves up in their haste to reach the bewildered and blinking Ansley. "What in Heaven's name have we here?" demanded Al Taylor. "Helen Barry! Great! Wait a minute, Stephen ! ' ' But Stephen had gone. Al collapsed on the floor, uttering a succession of unintelligible sounds. "How about it, Red? Did you hear that?" asked Bugs Landon. "You are going to take her to the Prom., aren't you? Do you think she will pass Psych. 1?" "Got any tobacco about you?" was Red's only comment. Red was not at all disturbed. But he dreamed that night of Stephen Ansley and Charlotte Hill and Helen Barry, standing in a gigantic bird cage under a wedding bell of squirming milk-white rats, while fuzzy green guinea pigs gibbered and swung madly on miniature trapezes. 225 MAROON TALES II Shrill, vociferous squeals issued from a base- ment room in Anatomy. Charlotte Hill's guinea pigs desired their luncheon. Stephen Ansley tapped on the door. As it swung open from within, the urgent pipings sank to a doubt- ful and confused bur — r, followed by a gen- eral silence. Stephen and Miss Hill nodded approvingly, glancing around at the timid little creatures now huddled together close against the wire mesh, in the corners of the three large cages. Miss Hill tiptoed across to her desk. As the laboratory routine proceeded without further interruptions, the hungry guinea pigs remembered their luncheon and began to gnaw the sides of their prisons, some of them chuck- ling confidently. When Charlotte approached with a pan of freshly cut and fragrant carrots, the frenzied squeals began again and the thick-bodied, black-and-grayish yellow animals slouched and dragged themselves to the front of the cages, attempting to stick their blunt, rabbit-like noses through the wires. The car- 226 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE rot-lady was generous to all but the ones that were to undergo experiment 5&. Stephen carefully watched the preparations for the experiment, exclaiming delightedly when he noticed new and ingenious arrange- ments of the test apparatus. Had he not been such a scientific young man, he might have spent his enthusiasm on Charlotte herself. Al Taylor, now, or Bugs Landon, would not have become excited over a lot of laboratory fix- ings ; they would have tumbled about the room breaking glassware in their efforts to help out and get acquainted. For no one would have said of Miss Hill that she was probably good to her parents, or awfully kind-hearted. She was not that type of graduate student, even if she was writing a monograph about the psychic life of the guinea pig. You would not have believed that she knew whole books of queer scientific things and could say them backwards if she chose. Her hair was sort of blond and fluffy and her eyes were sort of blue and her cheeks were sort of pink and plump. And she was sort of medi- um-sized. Stephen was proud of Charlotte. He con- 227 MAEOON TALES sidered her work remarkably effective. So looked straight past her at the lovely structur of the wire maze ; straight past the pink of he cheeks and the blue of her eyes. In some ways he was rather slow. Charlotte — well, Charlotte noticed, anc told herself that she liked Stephen's unsenti mental approbation and what she called th "sexless atmosphere" of the scientific depart- ment. Very often she would smile quietly over Stephen's little fits of abstraction and his peculiarities. Once, when she wrote to her mother she spoke of him as "a fine young fel- low and not a bit handsome. ' ' Which was per fectly true. He was not, as the Rhos admitted a prize beauty, but that didn't matter in th( least. Stephen's face, somehow, had never quite lived up to his finely proportionec head. His nose was too large, and his eye squinted. But, the Rhos asked, what of that? He could stand comfortably under the out- stretched arm of six-foot Bugs Landon; bul that was because he never thought to straighte up to his full height. Stephen came to attention when informed that the test was about to begin. Both he and 228 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Miss Hill were prepared to observe minutely every phase of the experiment, designed to check a result obtained previously. Charlotte lifted a mother guinea pig and a three-days-old "piggy" from cage A and transferred them to the large experiment-box by the window. Then the work began. Stephen and Charlotte noted each movement of the guinea pigs, correcting and adding figures to a table of psychological hieroglyphics. At last they finished. "You see, I was right,' ' said Charlotte, as she shook her loose notes before the gorging inhabitants of cage A. Then the scientists sat down and talked. Much of what they said was unpronounceable. For Stephen had done with the rats, and Char- lotte had done with the guinea pigs, what cer- tain rather famous scientific persons had done with certain other animals, only they had gone a little farther than the others. They shook hands on it, and Charlotte had the tiniest bit of a proud glow in her eyes. "My heartiest congratulations for the best work ever done here by a woman, Miss Hill," said Stephen. That sounded too stiff and formal, and both 229 upon MAKOON TALES felt relieved when their attention was denly directed to the window. Ked Wallace was trying to make himself heard through th( basement grating: ' ' May— I— come— in ? ' ' Stephen nodded and Red blustered in upo Stephen's description of a very absorbing ex- periment a moment later, frightening the guinea pigs into a state of quivering hysteria with his loud knock. "You people go right on talking," he smiled graciously when he had been introduced to Miss Hill. "I 'm in no hurry. ' ' "Well, rat 6, as I said, was then tried with the food-box," continued Stephen. "In orde to open the door, it was obliged to walk to th end of the inclined plane which I had place back of the box. It worked the combinatio accidentally the first time, the latch bein drawn from its socket as soon as the weigh counterbalanced the friction of the string anc latch, the door falling by means of a spring Having solved the mystery in this way and ob tained access to the food, it next walked imme- diately to the door and M ' ' Oh, I know a better one than that, ' ' bragge( 230 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE Red. "I once possessed a hoop-snake, of which I was very fond. It was a remarkable pet. Having need one day of a barrel of water and finding that our only barrel was lacking a hoop, my sagacious snake volunteered to act " Red was rudely silenced by a strong grip on his collar. "Red, you needn't hurry away," laughed Stephen. "But what do you want?" "Want a dance for the Senior Prom. Oh, yes, you Ve got to go. Closer relations with the student body. As a special concession, you can have two dances — fourth and twelfth. I 'm taking Helen Barry." "Fourth and twelfth — Helen Barry," re- peated Stephen. "All right." "Going to the Prom., Miss Hill?" inquired Red, on the principle that one should strive to keep talking. "No, I 'm getting too old for parties, Mr. Wal- lace, ' ' the very scientific young woman replied. And she smiled her very dimpliest and sweet- est smile. Stephen did not hear the question nor the answer, nor see the smile. He was pulling on his 231 MAEOON TALES sea overcoat and wondering why he had misse the last five Washington Promenades. He was glad Eed had reminded him. He was still more pleased when he and Eed met Helen Barry as they strolled across the campus. ' 'I have two dances with you for the Wash- ington Prom., ,, he stammered, when Eed had artlessly inquired whether Miss Barry knew Mr. Ansley. "Why, Professor Ansley, that 's perfectly lovely. ' ' Stephen saw and heard this time. He won- dered if Eed would not have liked to receive that sign of favor. Eed did not seem to be disturbed, however, when he left Stephen and started toward Foster with Miss Barry. A wild idea of kidnaping Eed and carrying him into the mountain fastnesses en- tered Stephen's mind; then he could take Miss Barry to the Prom, himself. The inspiration fled as quickly as it came; they always did. In the first place, there were no moun- tain fastnesses. He turned back toward the Commons. One electric bulb shed a soft light in Hitch- 232 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE cock 12. Stephen was drowsily reading a defini- tion in the Psychological and Philosophical Dic- tionary : " ' (AS. lufian, to love) : Ger. liebe; Fr. amour ; Ital. amore. — Dispositional interest of an exclusive kind — manifests itself in following emotional states — pleasure in the presence of the object — pain occasioned by his absence — ' why not her absence! — 'two kinds — fraternal, romantic *■ — here it is, romantic — 'in romantic love the exclusiveness of the interest is much stronger — conative ingredient intrudes itself into consciousness — extreme restlessness is felt — mental distraction — mental — distrac- tion ' " The feeble rays from the electric bulb were foolishly trying to shine through gleams of dusty sunlight when John, the janitor, opened the door in the morning. 233 MAROON TALES III Bartlett Gymnasium was gorgeous in it: Prom, clothes. The tall, gray walls, bright anc smooth in the moonlight streaming ove] Mitchell Tower, looked familiar enough as yoi drove up to the canopied entrance; only, yoi wondered if each one of those great, clear stones hadn't been scrubbed for the occasion, The shining lights at each side of the door- way prepared you for something very unusua inside; and you were not disappointed. Yo could not expect the Washington Promenad to have the prosaic setting of a track meet or a basket-ball game. Helen Barry expressed her delight as she bounced through the big middle door into the gymnasium. The door was open, of course ; Red Wallace was holding it back as far as the heavy hinges would permit. Miss Barry would have managed in some way, how ever, had it been shut and barred. She always bounced through things, emerging inevitably and triumphantly at the point desired. "What do you think of it, Mr. Wallace? 234 M INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE she demanded, as she indicated the gay maroon trappings of the stairway, the maroon carpet on the tiled floor of the hall and the maroon frills on the many lights, and nodded to sev- eral young men, all in a baffling and mar- velously complicated gesture. Then she bounced toward the cloak-room. Red spent the next ten minutes in pulling on his new white gloves and meditating upon Miss Barry's remarkable vivacity until the subject of his thoughts, a vision in countless white ruffles, suddenly appeared at the foot of the stairs, ready for the ascent to the Prom, floor. "Upstairs it 's something wonderful/ ' she fluttered, "and you must like it whether you do or not. Some of the seniors made me help decorate. Hello, Margery!" Red had not evolved a reply when he found himself at the top of the staircase, compelled to talk to Mrs. Sand. He told Mrs. Sand that the decorations were " great/ ' This idea, with variations of "bully" and "immense," furnished him with conversational material for the next three hours. After that he spoke of the "great" and "bully" and "immense" sup- per arrangements. 235 MAROON TALES The baseball cages of Bartlett had bee drawn up to form a great canopy over the Prom, floor. An occasional carnation, showing through the green of ferns and vines inter- woven in the netting, strove bravely to create an illusion of floral abundance. The railing of the hanging running-track was festooned with maroon and white bunting, an overgrown rosette of uncertain proportions at each sup- porting rod. The palms at each end of the pavilioned space, the maroon banners on the parallel bars, the hundreds of little pennants in corners and windows, and the brilliant gilt and satin trophies of athletic victories, — all were doing faithful duty. Overhead, a huge let- ter of fire flashed and burned — the "C." Stephen Ansley, seated beside Charlotte Hill in one corner of the room, was talking of the glories of the nineties when Red and Helen Barry came up. Stephen was singing very softly and quite off the key: "Cobb Hall was then the only place Where we could daily flunk, And in the dear old Drexel 'Dorm,' Was the only place to bunk." "I 'm sure you never flunked in your life 236 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Professor Ansley," laughed Miss Barry. "Don't you think the song is wrong f" Stephen wished she would not call him " pro- fessor.' ' ' ' Why, I was n 't always so highly educated, ' ' was the only reply he could think of. Then Stephen relapsed into an awkward silence and grew still redder in the effort to appear at ease. The others did not seem to notice; they were busy talking. In ordinary circumstances, Stephen assured himself, he could think of something to say. If so, what was wrong now of all times? Hadn't he come on Miss Barry's account! Where on earth were his brains, and why did that left pump be- gin to pinch unmercifully, horribly, and — "ouch." ' ' He 's talking the white rat language, ' ' ex- plained Red. "It 's only that left pump. I was afraid it was a little snug," faltered Stephen, weakly, and then Red led Miss Barry away to join the grand march. Margery Miller and Johnny Roberts had taken their positions at the head of the straggling line; Wallace and Miss Barry had promised Roberts to come early 237 MAEOON TALES and help out with some of the new figures. Stephen and Charlotte joined the line well back. Stephen and Miss Hill had cut a meeting of a psychological society in order to attend the Prom. Over in Haskell the professors prob- ably were reading most important papers as Stephen had foreseen when he asked Char- lotte to go to the Prom, the day after Eed had given him those two dances with Miss Barry. Charlotte had really overworked herself on the experiments, he thought; she needed recreation. He did not know that she had accepted because she wanted him to get away from his books for a time. They were very considerate, for scientists. Charlotte, in a wonderful pink gown, seemec utterly oblivious of such things as pyramida fibers and peripheral nervous systems. No one would have asked that bright-haired girl with Stephen Ansley for information concerning kinesthetic sensations or the medulla spinalis Stephen thought she smiled in a queer way when he alluded to the research experiments He wondered what she meant. He tried to 238 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE think, until the dancers formed in a great, liv- ing "C" and sang: "Tonight we gladly sing the praise Of her who owns us as her sons; Our loyal voices let us raise, And bless her with our benisons." And the rest of "Alma Mater/ ' "Well, that was over, and he could sit down and rest his foot. Perhaps that fool pump would stop. Stephen was wrong; tight pumps never stop until they have tortured their vic- tims to the verge of lunacy. "Of course, we '11 dance this," he said when Charlotte reminded him that the music had be- gun. "No, I 'm not limping. Yes, I am quite well, thanks.' ' Stephen thought Charlotte might have guessed about the pump, but she did not men- tion it. Elizabeth Strawn and Margery Miller, secured for the second and third dances by Red Wallace and Bugs Landon, who had filled his program, were even more thought- lessly unconscious of his suffering. He forced himself to give intelligent answers to the silly remarks of these young women. It would be different during the next dance; that was 239 MAEOON TALES with Helen Barry. There she was, dancing past with Red, slim and graceful and pretty as — much prettier than he had thought, in fact quite the prettiest girl he had seen, with tha black hair of hers all curly and wavy, and blacl eyes shining and red lips always parted in tha bewitching little laugh. And that frothy whit< gown, almost hidden behind that great blacl hulk of a fellow Stephen heard a sudden ripping sound Margery Miller extricated his left foot fron the ruins of a lace flounce and suggestec sweetly — almost too sweetly — that they sit ou the rest of the waltz in that cute little corne: over there. Miss Miller impressed Stephen a: an extraordinarily flighty and fidgety youn^ person. He wondered how she managed t< keep up that babbling flow of talk withou occasionally imparting an idea. His comfor was not increased by his conviction tha she considered him a grandmotherly ol( clumsy. This was an injustice to Margery who really thought nothing at all on the sub ject. But Stephen was sure she did, and he wa; immensely relieved when an important you] 240 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE junior strutted up to claim her for the fourth dance. The fourth ! He had forgotten where he had last seen Helen Barry and he couldn't make out the faces at the other end of the hall. He found her, finally, chatting with Johnny Roberts on the winding stairs of the running- track. The dance was half finished, and Roberts used up a whole minute in leaving. In that brief space Stephen forgot what he had planned to say, and the music stopped before he remembered. Which was just as well, as he always got mixed up in a two-step when he tried to talk. Stephen's left pump was boring a deep hole in his heel, and he longed to sit down, but the friendly support of even a shaky folding chair was denied him. Miss Barry immediately dragged him upstairs to the track, where the President and four or five of the patronesses were holding court. Groups of dancers were leaning over the railing and viewing the Prom, floor through the leafy pavilion roof, and some were climbing the banks at the turns of the track and sliding down again at the risk of damaging their magnificent apparel. 241 :aroon Most of these were rank Junior College people Stephen frowned at them and thought, cor- rectly, that they ought to be spanked. "I have not asked you how you like Eng lish 1," began Stephen. "Everybody else has, o course, but we might as well follow the pre- scribed formula. Now you must say : ' Horrid is n't it? I shall just scrape through.' " "It 's horrid, yes; but I didn't even scrape through. I got the trailer last quarter and '. am making it up right now, ' ' replied the author of the brilliant paper about association centers. Stephen could have choked some blundering English 1 instructor for putting Helen Barry into the trailer with a lot of freshman wooden- heads. "Well, those things will happen," he con soled her. "I suppose the class was too large and some one had to go." That was the rest of the formula. When voi find a freshman taking English 3, you say "How on earth any one can catch the trailer h more than I can see." "By the way, do you know Ribot?" aske Stephen. He was beginning to remember his 242 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE real purpose in cultivating Miss Barry's ac- quaintance. He thought a discussion of the affective elements of consciousness would be ap- propriate. "I have been wanting to ask you since that day I took Professor White's psychology class.' ' "You mean that little red-haired Three- Quarters Club fellow?" "I referred to Ribot, the psychologist," he explained. "Oh, that Lebolt! I 'm afraid I don't know him, Professor Ansley. Was he a very ex- citing man?" Helen could have bluffed better than that; but she was engaged in poking her white fan through every third hole in the wire railing and counting the pokes. "Why, I was certain," Stephen said, "quite certain that your paper contained a reference to Ribot 's work. It was yours, was it not?" Helen misunderstood the question, and stopped poking. "No, it was not mine, all of it," she re- turned slowly. "You see, I don't even remem- ber what was in the thing. I had to write it in an hour, so I just copied it out of a book in the 243 AROON TALES library at home. It was a silly, high schoo trick, and I suppose I ought to be flunked for it. I Ve felt like a criminal ever since. ' p Stephen felt like a criminal, too. Red Wal lace rushed up just then, and the instructo limped toward the opposite stairway to find Charlotte — Charlotte and a seat. Yes he believed he would sit down for a while, h told Miss Hill. Fifteen minutes of blissful re lease from that inane hopping about the floor "Don't you sometimes wonder at the pleasur otherwise sensible people seem to get out o all this jumping and sliding f " he said. "Where is your psychology V 9 laughed Mis Hill. "No, I don't wonder. I just jump anc slide, too. So do the guinea pigs, in their own way." "The guinea pigs are rather awkward, yo know," Stephen sparred. "We found that out That big fellow in cage C, now — number 4 — ! imagine, is a good deal like me. You remembe how clever he was for a while and how he solve* the labyrinth when he was three days old am never got any farther and never will? He i an old fogy. I 'm sure he would not enjo; a two-step." 244 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE "Number 4 was born a guinea pig; it was n't his fault," Charlotte objected. "At least give him credit for finding the center of the maze at the inconsiderable age of three days. It is n't every one who arrives at such an achieve- ment at that period. And I can't help think- ing that he is contented. Your rats, for in- stance, are only learning to crawl at three days." "Very true," admitted Stephen. "Number 4 had one precocious success and then stopped stock still. A plain case of abnormal psychi- cal and neural maturity. You see, he could not possibly be a good dancer. He would be hopelessly out of place at a Prom." Charlotte smiled at Stephen's tottering logic. "I am the same way," he continued. "Very likely I was a wonderful baby. I thought I was a wonderful freshman once — for a very short time. But I was not. I was the guinea pig type. If I had been a white rat freshman, I should have spent three days in learning to crawl and then I 'd have astonished the whole campus by my remarkable and ever increasing ability to do a fair amount of everything. I 245 MAEOON TALES should have been like Eed Wallace. Ke could not have solved a simple labyrinth when he came here. He knew everybody by name be- fore he had stayed a month. I went in for a Ph.D. and now I seem to have it safe — and very little else. I confess that I envy Eed, and white rats, their cleverness." " Which should prove what you started ou to prove, but does not," laughed Charlotte. "Now, you had better find your next partner. I see Mr. Landon coming for me." Stephen began to regret that he had the twelfth dance with Helen Barry; for life is not worth living when one's left foot is the size and temperature of a bushel of boiling potatoes. Stephen's left foot was gradually assuming this unfortunate condition. Long before the twelfth he felt that his very existence was a hatefu and burdensome thing. He would have wel- comed a sudden earthquake — a kind, accom modating convulsion of nature that would have shaken the whole Prom, to fragments without hurting anybody, except to destroy all the pumps. He was sure he wanted no one perma nently crippled ; at any rate, not Charlotte. Miss Hill was very kind to suggest going 246 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE home when she discovered his tragic state after the eighth, Stephen thought, but of course he could not agree to that. He slipped the patent leather torture off for an ecstatic mo- ment, while Charlotte shielded his foot with her pink skirt, but the difficulty he encountered when he tried to put it on again and the memory of the ghastly second when it seemed he never could get it back in time to hobble the necessary ten miles after Professor White's giggling young daughter, warned him against further liberties of that sort. Stephen expected to find Miss Barry still penitent, perhaps tearful, as the result of her confession about the " cribbed' ' Psychology paper. But she had evidently forgotten — so many things were more pleasant to remember and to talk about. She told Stephen what a perfectly lovely waltzer Mr. Landon was, and wasn't Mr. Wallace funny, and wasn't Mar- gery Miller cute and was n't Miss Hill adorable and sweet and noble-looking! Yes, Stephen silently agreed, Charlotte tvas a charming girl, and that young Professor Dace was a lucky dog. Charlotte was reasonably calm and could say a sensible thing sometimes; she was not 247 MAEOON TALES forever chattering about nothing at all, lik like some girls. Stephen and Helen immured themselves be- hind a group of poisonous-green rubber plants. Eed Wallace and Charlotte found them there. "This was the supper dance, and I didn't know it. Everybody 's gone to Hutchinson. I 'm starving/' cried Red. He shot a dark glance at Stephen and slid away with Helen. "White rats, both of them," Stephen ob- served. "And perfect specimens. They will be nibbling their lettuce in two minutes.'' What happened then has never been recorded in The Daily Maroon, and thereby a certain member of the faculty has been spared much. Stephen Ansley sent two shining patent leather pumps flying through an open window into the frosty outer air. "I 'm going to Hitchcock after some real shoes,' ' he announced, limping happily after Charlotte. Did you ever hear of a Psych. 1 instructor doing that sort of thing? That would have looked bad enough in The Maroon. But the story of how Charlotte waited, shivering, in the corridor under the 248 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Tower, while Stephen, hatless and pumpless, dashed down Fifty-Seventh Street, through Hull Gate and into his room, how Stephen dived madly, desperately, under his bed and scrambled wildly about in a mass of haberdashery in a vain attempt to find two shoes that would mate, and how finally he climbed and fell through a neighboring transom and emerged disheveled and breathless with Professor Hodge's Sunday shoes, — all this would have made Petey Strong, of The Maroon, a famous man. Petey would have given his bull-pup for a yarn like that. Charlotte was almost freezing; Stephen, in Hitchcock, was smearing Professor Hodge's property, and his fingers, with blacking. Char- lotte stamped her toes on the cold stone floor; Stephen came rushing back, a large, inky, spattered streak stretching diagonally across his face, and three gaping wounds in coat and trousers. Charlotte's little silver mirror told him about his face. Charlotte's tiny lace handker- chief developed the streak into an evenly spread, shiny, circular smudge. No wonder the colored gentleman in the check-room side- stepped nervously when Stephen called for his 249 MAEOON TALES "hat and shoes.' ' The colored gentleman ha a horrible fear of maniacs, harmless or othei wise. He was only partially reassured whe: the strange person met a pink-frocked youn ; woman in the hall and departed without fui ther sign of his sad state. Ten minutes later Stephen was standin; alone outside of Beecher, trying to believ that he was only a mild sort of fool fo messing up the Prom. He looked up at the iv; on the walls, and wondered what Charlott thought. Over in Bartlett, Red Wallace an< Helen Barry were whirling about in a fast two step. Stephen did not wonder what the: thought. He did n't care. 250 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE IV "By the way, Bed." Squib Morris swung round on the piano-stool and faced a pile of highly colored pillows repos- ing on the window-seat of the Rho music room. The pillows stirred expectantly. One of them, portraying a much coiffured and bejew- eled young woman tending a flock of gigantic ultramarine sheep, fell to the floor. ■ ' By the way, Red, ' ' repeated Squib. "That makes two by the ways," came the muffled voice of Red Wallace. "I suppose you have heard that Stephen Ansley drew Helen Barry's card for the Foster annual 1 J ' "Stephen Ansley!" Red flopped round and immediately flopped back. "Why, of course. Now if you have anything to say, be brief. I 'm reading." "Oh, I've said it already," and Squib once more attacked the piano. "Thanks, so much," said Red, wearily, lean- ing over to rescue the haughty shepherdess. 251 MAROON TALES "You know almost everything, don't you. Squibby? Now smoke a cigarette or something, and if it 's all the same to you, keep as quiel as possible.' ' Having thus neatly disguised his real feel ings, Eed viciously turned The Daily Maroo and looked out of the window. So it was Stephen Ansley after all. One stingy invita- tion to pay for the Prom, and then — Ansley Not that he would allow himself to pine away over a Foster dance or Helen Barry or any one else. Oh, no! He would simply ask one of the million or so other girls to the Eho formal. Perhaps somebody woulc take Helen; perhaps not. Maybe Stephen would ask her. Well, let him! Eed rumpled his paper again and began reading the sub scription rates on page two, column one. Also he read the names of the reporting staff, an edi torial on the necessity of everybody's coming out for the debate, and a terribly smart "com munication" about something that seemed t call for superior diction and several Latin epi grams. Eed despised people who wrote "com munications" to The Maroon; especially thos 252 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE who used big words and tried to show off. So he said i ' Rot ! ' ' and began on column two. ''What say?'' inquired Squib. There was no answer. Red was glancing down the official list of candidates for degrees at the March Convocation. He wanted to see whether Lawrence was going to graduate this time, or just thought he was, as usual. No, Lawrie's name was not there. Red skipped most of the other degrees. Bachelors of Divinity and Masters of Art are usually people you never heard of, anyhow. Doc- tors of Philosophy are more interesting; you have to do such an impossible amount of work to be one. He looked at the names at the bottom of the page, Stephen Ansley headed the list of Ph.Ds. Miss Charlotte Hill came next. Stephen and Miss Hill were going to get their doctor's diplomas together! Red's mental reaction was simple. The Rho formal, the Foster annual and two graduate students were concerned in it. "Squibby dear, whom are you going to take to our formal?" he asked. "Why, Miss Parks, Helen Barry's cousin. Weren't we four all going together?" 253 MAROON TALES "No, I guess not. I think I shall take Miss Hill — Stephen Ansley's friend, you know." Red was using all his easy nonchalance. "I 'm go- ing to ask her this evening. Have you got another one of those Amenhoteps? Thanks. Play that raggy thing again." Squib struck the first bars of a funeral march instead. He had seen hundreds of those mushy campus love affairs go to pieces. Even Rho formals made small appeal to him. Squib was eighteen. The philosophy of Red Wallace was more mature. Red frequently, and noisily, thanked Heaven that he was not one of those blase chaps who are always getting off cheap humor about college life and college romance. He had an abiding faith in Professor Sand's quarterly lecture, which taught that the college campus is the real world and not merely a preparation for life. The professor's sentiment squared nicely with Red's own ideas; it was pleasant and comfortable and logical, if you looked at it in a certain way. Red accepted it and elab- orated it into a glorification of Foster annuals and Rho formals. This made it all the more pleasant and comfortable and logical. 254 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Helen Barry had disappointed him. He de- cided he was quite right in asking Miss Hill. This was during dinner. He was not so sure as he walked toward Beecher Hall at eight o'clock. He feared Miss Hill might think his invitation strange. Maybe she had expected Stephen Ansley to ask her. But Stephen would probably be walking in the park with Helen. Red would have felt more at ease had he been certain how he would spite anybody by taking Miss Charlotte Hill of Beecher Hall to the Rho dance. He was weakening as he rang the bell. The maid ushered him at once into the presence of Miss Hill — and Stephen Ansley. "How do you do, Miss Hill? How do, Stephen ? ' ' he managed to say. Then Red Wal- lace, junior militant and dancing man extraor- dinary, plumped foolishly into the nearest chair and had to be encouraged to talk. "Mr. Ansley has finally eaten a Beecher dinner,' ' Miss Hill was saying. "It has taken him a year to make the plunge.' ' What an empty remark ! Well, he would have to say something. He couldn't stare at that hideous water-color much longer. 255 MAEOON TALES "I came over to congratulate you — both of you," he blurted. "Everybody thinks it 's great. Of course we knew it all the time." This statement produced a most alarming change in the atmosphere. Stephen looked rather pale and smiled painfully. Miss Hill seemed to be hesitating between flight and col- lapse. "Oh, I didn't mean that," stammered Eed. "I meant about your taking your doctor's de- grees at Convocation tomorrow. It was in The Maroon." "Oh, yes. Doctor's degree — Maroon" Ste- phen agreed vacantly. "Daily Maroon" murmured Miss Hill. "Of course." Red was beyond his depth. He wallowed on, blindly, shamelessly. "Oh," he said, "I knew— that is, I had heard that you and Professor Dace — Stephen told me that he " "Dear old Professor Dace, who taught me my very letters," laughed Miss Hill. "He calls himself my father of learning, though he has a large enough family of his own. What did you hear about him — about us?" INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Stephen took off his glasses and rubbed them. "I heard he was still as hale and hearty as ever," Red lied. "The dear old professor has been an in- valid for years," returned Miss Hill. And Red began wallowing again. Stephen was wondering where on earth he had heard that gossip about Charlotte's en- gagement to "young Professor Dace" and why he had been idiot enough to believe it. "You and Stephen are going to teach next year, aren't you?" Red floundered on. "We have some more research work in view for next quarter, ' 9 Charlotte said. "Yes — for a year or more. Several years in fact," broke in Stephen. Charlotte glanced at him questioningly, eyebrows raised. Stephen blushed violently and brushed an imaginary spot from his cuff. Red Wallace looked from one to the other. Then he arose and shook hands and mumbled something about "exams" — "A bunch of irregular French verbs, and you know what they are." He would have time to call up Helen, if he hurried. "I think I shall remain a while," Stephen 257 MAROON TALES said. "Miss Hill and I have our research plans to discuss. ' ' Cutting across the Midway, Bed thought that Stephen really need n 't have laid it on so labor iously about the research. Foxy old Stephen When the Beecher clock strikes ten, it is time to go home. Stephen stayed till eleven. Candidates for the doctorate should not be excited on Convocation Day. They were bach- elors long ago. Besides, they have " problems ' to think out. But Stephen Ansley had been rather agitated all day. The Matutinal a the Quadrangle Club had been the first note worthy event of the morning. He had sat be side Charlotte and afterwards had walked wit her to Beecher. That had been the second note worthy event. And now, as he slipped on hi doctor's gown, he wondered if he should be seated next Charlotte at Convocation. He took a last look at himself in the small oval mirror on the dresser, and transferred his Eho badge from his gray waistcoat to his black one. Then he unfastened it and sat down and looked at it. He had owned the little gold badge for eight years, never once forgetting to wear it, never 258 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE even dreaming of surrendering it to any of the girls who had called it just cute, and who would have loved to fasten their collars in the back with it, or to place it more prominently in the center of their glittering assortments of high school and club trophies. Stephen and the badge had learned a good deal together. And long before he knew these things so well, he had an excellent reason for keeping it, for the Rhos had a solemnly worded rule stating that the official badge of the fraternity might be given only to one's mother, one's sister or one's fiancee. The Rhos usually obeyed the rule. Occasionally a very young fresh- man or sophomore added his pin to the col- lection of some very young freshman or sopho- more girl, but just as often he went trotting back after it when he had been sufficiently lec- tured. Only the night before, Stephen had been telling Charlotte about a case of that kind. She had pitied poor little Petey Strong, who hap- pened to be the latest offender against Rho law. Charlotte, who hated sentiment, Charlotte, the scientific young woman, who loved only the ugly, slouching guinea pigs of the laboratory, had felt sorry for Petey. 259 MAEOON TALES His chair tilted back against the wall, Ste- phen pondered this deeply. He saw Charlotte on her knees beside him in front of a wire cage in the basement of Anatomy. She was looking straight into his eyes and speaking to him — about an infundibulum and an optic chiasm. He saw her in Beecher, seated very near him, smiling gloriously and confiding her love — for the guinea pigs. It was the same in every pic- ture — always this futile talk of futile things, and always a little spot just over her heart, a cold, lonesome little spot, that should have held a plain gold pin. He replaced his badge anc squinted down his nose at it. It was time for the procession to form. When he reached Hutchinson, the Heac Marshal was making a final hasty review of the irregular files of candidates. Excited studen Marshals were rushing about mending the breaks in the ranks and informing wide-eyec sophomore associates who wandered out oi bounds, that they simply must keep their alpha- betical positions unless they wanted to spoil the whole show. Stephen hurried down the black-gowned lines, past the chattering sophomores and the quieter 260 INCLUDING THE DOCTOEATE seniors, and into his place beside Char- lotte at the head of the Doctors of Philosophy- just as the procession began to move forward to the strains of the organ sounding from Man- del. And it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should be in that particular place — that he and Charlotte should march to- gether down the sunny corridor into Man- del. Eed Wallace and Helen Barry, waiting outside the door, waved to them out of the gray light, and Stephen and Charlotte smiled hap- pily at the children. Between Stephen and Bed there passed a swift, sidelong glance of com- plete understanding. The funereal solemnity of the professors as they passed on toward the stage may have looked impressive to some of the audience. Stephen, standing beside Charlotte in the sec- tion reserved for the doctors, hardly noticed the United Faculties of Arts, Literature, and Science, stalking by in their robes of office. The Vice-President of the University Congregation and the Vice-President of the Board of Trustees, and the President of the Board of Trustees and the Convocation Chaplain might have been the lowliest "sophs." Even the Con- 261 MAROON TALES vocation Orator and the President of the Uni- versity, whose progress down the long aisle was followed by a great craning of necks and buzzing whispers of " There he is," " There they are," failed to interest Stephen, who was gazing ab- stractedly at the mud-colored hair of the young man in the next row and listening to the deep, bass roar of the organ-pipes. When every- body gasped and sat down, or sat down and gasped, he forgot to remove his cap, because the owner of the mud-colored mop was a Mar- shal, and privileged to remain covered. Char- lotte told him to take it off. Which also seemed perfectly natural and not in the least em- barrassing. Then the Convocation Orator, a very thin and frightened-looking person with a very thin voice, began to speak. He had views about something connected with the cosmic forces ; no one could be quite sure what they were, for he grew more and more inaudible as he approached them along a mental path of many windings. Why, oh why, wondered the sophomore asso- ciates, couldn't he tell his secret and sit down and give somebody else a chance ? Stephen didn't mind. The pictures had come 262 INCLUDING THE DOCTOKATE back again and the thin voice seemed quite far away; so did the music of the organ after the address, and the voice of the President as he announced the awards of honors. Charlotte was smiling now in every picture; smiling quizzi- cally out of the eyes that were sort of blue. Stephen smiled, too, and did not bother to squint at the close-serried ranks of sophomore associates and bachelors crowding past the President's chair up in front. But he did look once, wondering, at the real Charlotte sitting beside him. That was why he dared give her hand a little congratulatory squeeze as he saw the tall senior Marshal making toward the doctor's section. There was a small gold pin in the middle of that squeeze ; it nestled there in a small and trembling white hand. The Marshal, who happened to be Bugs Landon, touched Stephen on the arm and wigwagged the six doctors into a standing line by a system of upward and sidewise jerks of his square chin. Stephen's knees felt just a bit wabbly and his head just a bit light and queer as he trailed after Bugs to the stage. It was rather upsetting, after all. He bowed before it 263 MAEOON TALES was time when Bugs left him in front of the row of deans, facing the great carved chair where the President sat. The Dean of the Graduate Schools recited his Latin presenta- tion formula without stopping for breath or missing so much as a single prefix. The Presi- dent muttered something in the same tongue, complacently disregarding the feelings of the sophomore associates, who couldn't under- stand a word of it. " Stephen Newcomb Ansley," announced the Dean of the Graduate Schools. "Doodle-dee dum-dum-de-doodle dee-dee," said the President. At least that was the way Petey Strong of The Maroon wrote it down in his notes. Petey thought that was awfully funny; nearly as funny as the way Stephen ducked his head and almost choked when the dean slipped the heavy, maroon-lined hood over his shoulders and pulled the blue neck-band into place with a sharp tug. " Tum-da-teedle doodle lump-te-dee, ' ' added the President. Petey Strong bit the end off his best pencil because Stephen tried to take his diploma before the President got to his final "doodle-dum" or whatever it was he was say- ing. ° 264 INCLUDING THE DOCTORATE Stephen Ansley, Ph.D., moved to the edge of the stage, where Bugs was waiting, and stood very straight while the clapping of hands died out. The President was speaking again. That was Charlotte's hood going over her shoulders; and that was Charlotte's diploma. A great wave of sound came up from the hundreds in front and rose to a storm of applause as the two doctors stood side by side on the first step. Stephen risked his footing to turn toward Charlotte. And there, on that spot over her heart, shone a little plain gold badge. 265 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP THE news editor of The Daily Maroon said lie feared Petey Strong was no good, a sentiment which Petey cheerfully, even en- thusiastically, approved. Petey admitted that he was awful on grammar and all that, but he thought it would be fine sport to be a hustler. His parents agreed that he might as well try The Maroon as anything else. His mother hoped it would improve his spelling — Petey had an orthographic system of his own — and his father said he would be willing to buy the col- lege paper if it would keep Petey quiet for a few minutes. And so the freshman approached his task with none of the reverence that a hust- ler should have, and the news editor noticed it. Petey Strong greatly needed some work to get him interested and a partner to remind him continually that he was enjoying himself. He found both in an hour and a quarter; it took him just that long to cover his first as- signment and sight the tall, awkward figure and the turned-up nose of Sylvester Fielding. 267 MAROON TALES The news editor sent him to see Professor Bland about the Seventh Annual Conference of the Teachers of Geology and Paleontology of the Colleges and Preparatory Schools of the North Central and Immediately Adjoining States, and he copied six sheets of paper full of large, queer words out of the program, and wrote a hundred short words for The Maroon, as the news editor ordered. He was just think- ing how easy it was when Sylvester came into the office. " Hello, there, Peter! Going to be a re- porter t" said Sylvester. " Hello, there, Silver! You 've guessed it," said Petey. "You '11 be a fine rotten one." "You '11 be worse, and that 's some comfort. "You're dotty." "Same to you. What time is it?" Then they clattered out to Gym. class, scat- tering a bunch of copy to the floor as they brushed by the desk. And the news editor decided that the small, black-eyed, bristly haired one was probably impudent, and that the gawky, pug-nosed one said "huh" interro- gatively and looked blank when addressed. The 268 it," rt." THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP news editor watched them springing past the window and then turned to calm the other hust- lers, who were inquiring, in chorus, please what should they do next ; and he wondered what the paper was coming to. Petey was not even certain of his own rela- tion to The Maroon, so of course he did not know the duties of the rest of the people in the office. There were twice as many on the second day, and he could not identify them simply by looking at their names in the list on the editor- ial page. When he inquired, he discovered that he would be permitted to try for a place on a very powerful organization known as the staff, and that if he labored diligently and humbly, as befitted his position as one of the nine hust- lers, he might possibly become a reporter along about Winter Quarter. The reporters, he was told, were those six very busy fellows who talked loudest and wrote most furiously and looked immensely pleased or coldly judicial, as they happened to be contemplating their own or another's stories. They, though it was almost unthinkable, had once been hust- lers themselves. And the six associate editors — they seemed to come in half-dozen lots — were 269 MAKOON TALES the godlike creatures who stuck their feet 01 the table and yawned and gave advice every sc often. They were sort of " super-reporters' ' who had "done time.'' Katherine Snowden and Margery Miller, the women editors, were sen- iors. Miss Snowden was the one with blacfc eyes, and Miss Miller was the one with the brown curly hair. Paul Leeming, the athletic editor, was the slim fellow with the spectacles on the end of his nose, reading copy; and Hal North, the blond fellow with the thin lips and humorous eyes, was the managing editor and the top o the heap, and he wrote the best editorials tha ever were printed. Chalmers, the big" sobe faced news editor — but of course he kne Chalmers — everybody did. The business man- ager was the one at the roll-top desk in the cor ner, who glowered and ate pencils and kep telling the stenographer to "cut out that las sentence/ * "It will probably take me two or three years to become managing editor,' ■ thought Petey when he had been enlightened. For he had re solved to rise. That afternoon he remembered that ther 270 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP was an unsettled question of journalistic effi- ciency between himself and Silver Fielding. * ' Hello, Silver ! Do you still think I *m a rot- ten hustler V ' he said as they met in the bath at the gym. Silver jumped into the warm shower beside Petey. "Yes, don't you?" "Maybe, but I 've thought up a way to find out which is rottener. ' ' "Come through with it." 1 ' We '11 save our strings. ' ' "What strings?" "I mean each of us will cut out his own arti- cles and paste 'em together, and the one that gets the longest one — see?" Silver turned the brass handle marked "cold" and flipped a handful of soapy water in Petey 's face. "Well, Peter," he laughed, "I '11 just say this. If I can 't manage to get more than you do in The Maroon this quarter I '11 — boo-oh, this water 's freezing — I '11 eat the gargoyles off the Reynolds Club. Because I — boo-oo-oh — I know you." Petey did not happen to like that re- mark, nor the laugh that went with it. He 271 MAROON TALES „ stopped spatting his brown sides and said, ' ' You do, do you 1 ' ' and looked up at Silver with a cold, steady stare that meant fight when he was younger, while Silver looked down at him and seemed to be vastly amused. "You 're sure you know all about me?" he repeated, still glaring. They stood there, dripping and shivering, an measured each other up and down for a mo- ment, as if that had a great deal to do with the argument. "Oh, well. We '11 try your little plan if you feel that way about it, ' ' said Silver. "Yes, we will try it, and that 's the way I feel about it. We '11 start tomorrow,' ' said Petey. And then and there began the remarkable Strong-Fielding Paste-pot Handicap or the Marvelous, Merry and Mirthful Maroon Mar thon, as it came to be called in the office. 1 Petey 's mother was worried at her son's wonted industry that evening. He shut him- self up in his room and said that he intended to stay there until he had finished some important business. Mrs. Strong hoped he was not going into one of those awful bilious spells, and o 272 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP dered one of the maids to take him some hot chocolate and cake and part of the lamb roast at ten o'clock. When she returned from the theater and found him still writing at his white- and-gold desk, with the banquet devoured in its entirety, she sighed and kissed him good night, and said perhaps her boy was growing up and putting away childish things, not mean- ing the hot chocolate and cake. Petey wrote and wrote — wrote until his fingers cramped and the pencil refused to be pushed any farther, and he felt the delicious sensation of wearing himself out in a good cause. He wrote a long article on ''The First Day at the University, ' ' which he regarded as quite original. It was mostly about the prep, school he came from and the boulevard he went through on his way to the campus and some dirty children who were playing in a pile of bright autumn leaves; little innocent chil- dren gamboling by the wayside, he said, never thinking that some day they would go to college like the fellow passing there on the sidewalk. He also wrote a page of jokes, and finished by composing several editorials about college, in which he freely expressed a number of opin- 273 MAEOON TALES ions that he had no business to own. And h fell asleep in his big colonial bed with his arm tossed out wearily on the snowy spread and vague feeling that he was taking a pretty mean advantage of poor Silver. But then, Silver was much too "cocky." He bought a pocket notebook on his way to his eight-thirty. It was a fat, friendly-looking notebook, with an index, and he thought i would be quite large enough to contain thou sands of ideas. He laid his stuff on the new editor's desk and hurried out of the office, be cause he was afraid Chalmers might come in and he could n't bear to be complimented before the stenographer. When he wandered back to get his assignments at ten-thirty, Chalmers tolc him he was sorry, but it was not exactly the right kind of copy. In fact, none of it could be used. The Maroon was a daily, not a monthly nor an annual, nor yet a decennial publication Chalmers said it in a kind way, but Petey was glad Silver didn't hear. How he woulc have crowed! The news editor did not tel him that Silver had just passed through a sim ilar experience. Chalmers called the hustlers together the 274 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP hour before dinner and gave them a talk. He said: "The Mar oo7i is supposed to print the news about the University and about the persons and things intimately associated with it. It is in- tended to be interesting and, to some extent, dignified. It is read by many alumni in addi- tion to the students now in residence, and we want it to be a good, clean record of the Uni- versity. "We want to print reports of all official meetings — chapel and lectures and so on — and the news of the various clubs and organizations and the news of the teams in season — football now, of course. Stir up enthusiasm — be boost- ers — but not editorialize in every news story. We shall try to do that in the columns reserved for that purpose. We run 'josh' stories some- times, but that usually takes experience. Don't try to be too funny. Don't write things that we can find in the encyclopedia. Be accurate, and if you don't use the typewriter, dot your i's and cross your t's and stick in a period now and then. You can find out the rest by reading the rules posted over there by the desk. ' ' The hustlers understood part of this, and liked it. Even Petey and Silver promptly 275 MAROON TALES forgave Chalmers for killing their stuff, be- cause his manner was neither arrogant nor con- descending. It was just right, they thought They were glad they were going to work for him. For Chalmers was a good news editor. He was very particular what went into the paper, of which he was proud. He sat up many nights talking to Hal North over ways to make it bet ter. He thought it was about the best college daily in the land. "Did you take all that in, Peter ?" said Sil- ver, as they left the office. "Yes, did you?" "Sure. Have anything in The Maroon to day?" ' ' Oh, no, ' ' wearily. ' l Did you ? ' ' "No — o," also wearily; "but I 'm going to have a story tomorrow." "So am I. So long, Silver." These boastful declarations were the veriest shams, but they happened to come true, because they were founded on the grim determination of two wide-awake freshmen, aided by will- ing friends. They laid their troubles before two kind upper-classmen, and these accommo- 276 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP dating persons not only furnished the de- sired stories, but even agreed to provide un- limited additional ones on demand — promises which caused Petey and Silver to have visions of easy and complete success. Al Taylor was the author of Petey's yarn. Al affirmed that three spies had been discovered sneaking a view of secret football practise from the windows of Anatomy; that these villains, who, with foolhardy assurance, wore the bright- hued sweaters of a rival college, had been caught red-handed while taking voluminous notes on the Old Man's formations, and after confessing their crime, had been ducked in the Botany pond until they yelled for mercy. A party of loyal Chicago men, said Al, himself among the num- ber, had then pointed the finger of scorn at the rascals and had said a few things about the miserable hole they represented, and had told them to return whence they came and re- member the time they had and much good might it do them. Silver's story came from Wally Miles, a junior who looked responsible, but was not. Miles told a convulsing yarn of a monkey that had escaped from an operating-table in one of 277 MAROON TALES the laboratories, knocked a bottle of ether fro an assistant's hand, jumped through a window and run amuck on the campus, where it had bi a child and frightened a divinity student into spasms. It finally had been captured after a wild chase, and had been cut into small slices by the infuriated professors. Miles was not certain whether the carnage occurred on the sidewalk or in the 'lab' — he thought the 'lab. Chalmers would have investigated both o these narratives. But Chalmers was down town, and one of the associate editors sent the stories to press. The big machine groaned and trembled as if deeply ashamed and ground out the edition. Petey and Silver gleefully snipped their articles when the paper was delivered in the morning. The storie measured five inches apiece. That was pretty good for one day. The returns began to come in before noon The rival college had heard the spy story, anc the rival campus was shaken with indignation It did not seem to please anybody. One of the reporters asserted that he had seen severa professors turning flip-flops and tearing out their whiskers, which probably was an exag- 278 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP geration. Professor Stupp called at the office. His face was quite red. He said that a col- umn editorial, containing a retraction and an apology, must be printed without delay. The spy "fake," he informed Chalmers, was peculiarly distressing* coming just when the intercollegi- ate situation — an extremely delicate one — de- manded the continuance of the very friendly re- lations between the two institutions. To be plain, there had been danger of a break for months. The reporter who was culpable should be severely reprimanded. Immediately thereafter came another faculty member, requesting instant explanation of the ridiculous monkey article. If it had been in- tended as a joke, it was a pitifully feeble at- tempt, said he. It was most offensive and — ahem — embarrassing for reasons which should be apparent to the most unthinking. Some one with a rasping voice called up on the telephone and said that he was an anti-vivisec- tionist, and now had the evidence he had long desired in regard to the unspeakably bru- tal practises of college professors. He had drawn up resolutions, a copy of which would be forwarded to a certain society in the 279 MAROON TALES East, and there was no telling what the soci would do. But it was probable, and the raspin voice rasped more slowly that the words migh sink in — it was probable that it also woulc draw up resolutions. The associate editor consigned Strong anc Fielding to a disagreeable place, and Chalm- ers did as much for the associate editor; Chalmers had been talking to Al Taylor anc Wally Miles, who said the freshmen ought to be paddled, and would be, for believing such dizzy stuff. Petey and Silver felt hurt. "You got stung pretty fine, didn't you Peter f" grinned Silver, after Chalmers ha spoken to him. "So did you, I noticed." "It won't happen again very soon." "Here either. I intend to get my stories myself after this. p ' "Me too. You can't go wrong then There 's a fellow I want to see. 'By." The boys told themselves that they would ac complish something at once. It would be untrue to say that they failed to do so. They enlivenec The Maroon, caused a number of people to fee excited, and increased their strings to the length 280 hac THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP of twenty-eight inches apiece in two weeks. As computed by Chalmers, who watched the meas- uring operations, that made exactly fifty-six inches of trouble. The office couldn't remember such a debauch of downright silliness. It was a crime, said Chalmers. And the most embar- rassing part of it, according to the news ed- itor, was the fact that the stuff had got by the desk. Petey seemed to be endowed with a fatal genius for disseminating misinformation in attractively veiled form, and a twin gift for seizing upon the most unfortunate circum- stances that came his way in his daily search for news. His innocent sincerity served neither to guide his freshman steps aright, nor to abate the consequences of his unwise ramblings. One of his first unassisted feats was the plac- ing before his fellow-students of a condensed and readable version of a very exhaustive and abstruse paper on "The Present Intellectual Tendencies of Male and Female Young Per- sons,' ' which he found in a pretty tan maga- zine. He wrote, in his front page review, that the young women of the University had 281 MAEOON TALES proved so deficient in scholarly attainmen as to arouse the gravest doubts of thei mental capacity and the " wisdom of maintair ing our present system. ' ' This was not exactl what the author meant. It brought to the offic a handful of small notes, tinted and otherwise which were not invitations to the Women' Halls. One of the notes called attention ' * this latest example of the brain power of t male." Petey was sorry, but he said he h his opinion of anybody that would get up such ; bunch of " piffle' ' in the first place. The next issue contained another of Petey' efforts, ostensibly based upon Professor Sand' lecture on "An Estimate of Pragmatism," subject that had struck the news editor as be ing dismal enough to tame even Petey, at leas devoid of pitfalls for the wild young hustler Petey was not in touch with the trend of moder philosophy, and he sat through the lectur with an expression of forlorn bewildermen upon his face, a feeling of disgust in hi soul and nothing but fidgety curlicues on th open page of the fat notebook. But the lecture made some remarks that sounded intelligen just as he was leaving the room with a worship 282 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP ing graduate student. Petey listened, then scribbed violently. The quote made most of the story. Professor Sand was horrified to read his confidential comments set forth nakedly in The Maroon. For while the expressions, " childish folderol," "absurd hypothesis," and "flimsy pretext," had seemed to the copy-reader to refer to some notion of the dim past, they were leveled at the pet theory of one of Professor Sand's colleagues, whose views had been published the day before. The allusion was obvious, and almost everybody was start- led. Once more Petey was sorry. Several achievements of like magnitude and brilliancy came from his pen before Chalmers could bring himself to decide on the boy's case. A few of Petey's mistakes resulted in the in- terchange of irritating personalities. He fea- tured the captain of the football team in de- scribing a "midnight lark" on the Midway, and was interviewed by that worthy, who was sup- posed to be in bed at ten every night. He printed a piece of news about the fraternity to which he was pledged, and his prospective brothers made it plain that that particular bit of information should not have been made pub- 283 MAROON TALES lie. He omitted the name of a freshman from a committee list, and learned, through Si ver's sister, that the child made horrid faces £ him whenever she saw him. But he did n 't min those things. He supposed he would have t stand it, he told Miss Fielding, like Patience o a tombstone or a sofa or whatever it was sh used to camp on. Silver seemed possessed with an evil affinit; for the unpropitious phrase. His faculty fo dressing up half-truths in the semblance o verity amounted to a talent comparable only t Petey's. His stories too had the property o impressing as harmless — until they came ou in print. They looked so innocent in the copy When he wrote, naively, that a visitin chapel orator "delivered the usual address o morality" and the bungling foreman place above it the head, "Chestnuts! Chestnuts! which belonged to another story altogether, th mistake escaped even the proof-reader, wh was sleepy; clearly, it was not Silver's faul When he informed the readers of The Maroo that one of the deans was about to "take vacation in order to find some new ideas, as has not had one for three years,' ' Chalme 284 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP scratched his head reflectively while the campus giggled with delight. Silver explained that he meant the vacations, not the ideas; and then Chalmers realized that the boy was surely unique. The whole University was interested in the fact that The Maroon had two new hustlers who were ' ' the limit. ' ' They were pointed out on the campus. Instructors would ask in class, "Mr. Strong, have you got this straight 1 ' ' and ' ' Mr. Fielding, are you quite certain that you under- stand f " Some of the upper-classmen held that the hustlers might be wiser than they looked. This theory the sophomores repudiated. Clever freshman humorists, indeed! The members of the staff began to bet on the outcome of the Mirthful and Merry. "It 's a toss up," said the staff. Petey and Silver were famous. "Peter, I Ve got a fine, large premonition," said Silver, the day the strings were measured. "What's the matter!" "Something, my lad, is about to drop on you — hard." "Huh! How about you! " 285 MAEOON TALES "Oh, I don't care for myself. But I 'd ha to see you lose out. You want to beat me s awful much." "Spare the tears, Silver.' ' Silver persisted. It was evident that ] swagger was largely assumed. "Say, Peter," he asked, "do you really thin we 're in bad?" " I do, " answered Petey. ' ' But I Ve got a ne^v scheme for little me. I 'm going to suppres all the wormy talks, no matter who says 'em Too dangerous." "That's just what I was about to suggest,' said Silver. "So long, Peter." "So long, Silver." But Chalmers had a plan of his own, an( Chalmers was the news editor. Said he North, who had curtly stated his opinion: "Now you let me pace this pair of colts, think I know them better than you. I '11 just as I said, and if they can't stand it, they '1 jump the track. If they finish at all, they '1 do it in style and my case is won. Is it a go All right, Hal." Petey and Silver soon became aware tha their activities were being restrained, and by 286 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP determined hand. Chalmers did not use the stories they turned in, and he gave them but one assignment apiece in a week. Neither cared to humble himself before the other; so they wrote letters and themes and make- believe leads at the reporters' long table in the effort to seem decently busy. Petey told Al Taylor, sadly, that it certainly looked as if he were blowing up at the turn. To add to the situation, Silver resorted to a shameless bit of duplicity. "Let 's see, Silver/ ' Petey said, one hope- lessly dull day. "We had twenty-eight inches apiece the last time, didn't we? What have you got now 1 ' ' "Oh, about so much." Silver's gesture im- plied an infinity of string. He was not going to be caught so easily as that. "Guess we 'd better measure it." "No, we won't. I 've decided to keep mine to myself. A little suspense, you know. Keep you anxious." Petey was skeptical. "Show me some of your stuff," he challenged. Silver took up a copy of The Maroon and 287 MAEOON TALES dashed a pencil across the six longest storie " Where 's your stuff today, Peter ?" he asked. Petey fell, ingloriously. He promptly pointec out the six next longest stories. "That one and that — and that — and tha one-— and that — and that," he said, jabbing holes in the page with the office shears. This ill-conceived solace, however, proved far too hollow. The Olympic strivers became al most gloomy by reason of unwelcome periods of introspection, an act which is by no means foreign to the nature of freshmen. The intro spection had to do with something known as "making good." The worst of it was that the were held in check just when they saw the pat ahead all clear and smooth — just when the} could have done so well! They watched th other hustlers with jealous eyes. They studiec the make-up of the paper until they though they could tell just how many notes the would have to take if they should get certain stories. They gazed moodily at the fellow clip ping paragraphs from the college exchange that hung all along one side of the office, em 288 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP paled in bulging, crackling bunches on huge hooks. They could do that. And they were not getting a chance! The race might have ended right there if the boys had possessed a different internal con- struction. But there was nothing very wrong inside of Petey and Silver. They continued to spend two hours a day at their Maroon duties, as they had planned the day they en- tered college. As the duties were fast dwindling, they took to exploring the odd corners of the campus in the hope of turning up some big stories. Silver, always attracted by the extraordi- nary, prowled about the museums, investigating the wonders exhibited in the glass cases and on the walls. In Walker he liked to look at the brilliantly colored minerals and at the remains of queer animals : funny little skulls and bones and disjointed skeletons of strange monsters that must have been remarkable when they were alive — Silver wondered if the long one with the flat, triangular head used to crawl, or hop, or what. And in Haskell he greatly fancied the perspectiveless reliefs of kings of Egypt going forth behind six-legged, three-headed hobby- 289 MAEOON TALES horses to hunt tame-looking wild beasts had arrows in their backs ; and the personal ef fects of the princess with the impossible name He wrote Maroon articles about some of these but they were not used. One afternoon Silver met Petey loafing h the corridor of the Tower buildings, and to gether they stole into the Commons to see th< portraits. They knew hardly any of the faces but they thought them all very interesting They smiled intimately at the Founder, sitting comfortably in his big chair — he looked quit kind and friendly at close range. And then for c long time they peered up at the face of the On who was gone — the friend of whom the fellow spoke so reverently and so sadly. And the} too felt reverent and sad. They would admire the buildings also. Petej thought Hull Gate was about the best thing on the campus, because of the gargoyles A senior told him that the little, crawling gar goyles were freshmen, and the great, fierce one sophomores. Petey's independent quest led him among the professors. The stories he heard abou them were most exciting. Some, he learned, 290 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP had been almost everywhere and had seen un- believably strange people in unbelievably strange places and were unbelievably modest about it, and some were making creepy experi- ments in the medical buildings. Others, he heard, were helping the city of Chicago take care of its problems, and some were spending years on the queerest problems imaginable. Most of them seemed to be doing things that made their teaching in class look small and un- important in comparison. And these things, the fellows said, were what made the University really great. Petey thought he ought to write about these wonderful men, so he called on some of them. When he said he was from The Maroon, he was usually treated politely and told that there was " nothing in shape for publication just now." Although the professors were busy, they allowed him to ask questions, wondering how long he would retain his unnatural thirst for information. Occasionally he found out things that were not to be printed, as the day Leeming let him help with the football story, and Williams, the assistant coach, told him confidentially what 291 MAROON TALES the real line-up would be, explaining qui patiently that it was not always best to let the other team know too much. That was the time Williams introduced him to the Old Man. And one day he met the President! He begged the favor of accompanying one of the reporters, who had an important question to ask, and who said to come along and not to act like a kid. He approached the inner office with pleasant shivers of awe ; and when the door was opened, there sat the President writing at his desk. And then he looked up and smiled and told the boys to sit down, and asked Petey if he was a freshman, and how he was get- ting along. That was very kind of him, Petey thought. He would, at that moment, have leaped from the highest peak of Mitchell Tower, if the President had wished it. He could appreciate then what Bugs Landon had told him how at one of the Proms, the President had stood on the running-track of the Gym. and made a little talk, and how everybody crowded up close, and looked and listened and felt fine, and how they all clapped their hands so loud and shouted, "Prexy! Prexy! Prexy!" He liked to think of that. 292 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP All this was quite agreeable, in one way. But the boys were not happy. Each string, soiled and crumpled from much inspection, now measured only thirty-two inches. It seemed as if Chalmers had him doling out the punishment with mathematical precision, which happened to be true. How were they to know that the news editor disliked to throw their stories in the waste-basket, and that he had observed their earnest efforts with a twinkling eye? The Quar- ter was going fast, too. North Had posted a bul- letin calling the board to a meeting, which was to be held earlier than usual. And they elected the reporters at the board meeting ! It is said that the deadliest enemies have been known to grow sympathetic in the presence of great calamities. Petey and Silver had reached that stage. 1 ' Peter, do you know what they call us ? ' ' said Silver, getting into his clothes after Gym. class one day. "Who callus!" "The staff — The Maroon — everybody." "What do they call us?" Silver looked serious. "They call us the Mirthful, Merry, Marathon Martyrs and a lot 293 MAROON TALES of other nutty names. Our race for space, of course. It J s all over the campus/ ' "What of it?" and Petey tried to look bored. "What of it? Nothing. Nothing at all. Only we seem to be about the best jokes going. And if we get stung in the elections, we '11 continue to be jokes. I thought you might be interested. ' ' Tragically: "Peter, those fool names '11 stick to us if we go down. We '11 be labeled the Mud Horses of the Universe or the Literary Lambs or the Devilish Dubbs or something. ' ' "We 'd better sprint/ ' suggested Petey, cheerfully. "Good Lord, I have sprinted. So have you. We 're bushed. Blankety-blank-blank-blank ! Something, my boy, has got to happen !" "Blankety-blank-blank-blank! You 're right, Silver. Something has got to happen — quick. Mighty quick !" An amusing thought occurred to Petey. He looked searchingly in the direction of Silver's nose, a performance which was ever displeas- ing to young Mr. Fielding. "Of course," he said, "you are not by any chance — by any chance it cannot be, that you 294 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP are pulling in your horns V 9 And lie twirled his cap. Silver slammed the door of his locker. " Peter — " he said, " Peter, my boy — don't make me laugh. 9 9 Suddenly emerged from the gray background of the waning Quarter the unimpressive figure of Professor Bland of the Graduate Faculties, fated to be for a brief space the agent of the destinies of Petey Strong and Silver Fielding. For the next day, it being then high time in the routine of covering the campus to " check up" on Professor Bland's department, Chal- mers sent Petey to see him. Petey went, his heart filled with gratitude for this crumb from the reportorial feast. Said the professor : "I was agreeably surprised to note the eminently sane article you wrote some time ago concerning the work of this department. The account was commendably conservative, and contained none of the too frequent glaring errors either of content or of construction and diction — no garbling of facts.' ' This was the handsomest compliment Petey had received. 295 MAEOON TALES "I may say further, young man, that while there is nothing in shape for your paper today, I have decided to give you an item of — of con- siderable moment,' ' continued Professor Bland. "No doubt you wish to know what it concerns. That, however, I am not at liberty to divulge at present, further than to state that it has to do with — er — a gift to the University, which in accordance with custom and — er — tradition, may not be made public until it has been of- ficially passed upon. I shall apprise you of the fact as soon as it becomes my privilege to make a full report. Where can you be reached young man?" "At The Maroon office," said Petey. "And I thank you very much indeed. ' ' He pulled out a visiting-card and handed it to the professor, who dropped it into his pocket. He walked out with a new light in his eye. A few minutes later, Leeming, the athleti editor, gave an assignment to Silver. The order was to see Professor Bland. Chal mers had neglected to check the assignment be- fore leaving the office. Said Professor Bland, glancing away from his writing, and back again : THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP 1 i Dear me, I thought I made myself clear. I was under the impression that I promised to inform you as soon as the gift was officially accepted. Be assured, young man, that I shall do so." He mechanically took the card Silver offered him and as mechanically stuffed it into his pocket with Petey 's. Silver was too excited to consider Professor Bland's words. Besides, he understood that the professor was eccentric. The hustlers reveled in anticipation that night when they heard how important their tips were. "Petey, you 're the coming little literary light," said Al Taylor. "A story from Bland! Fellows, Professor Bland has promised our Petey a scoop." The fellows laughed. Taylor explained more fully: "It 's absolutely inhuman, the way you 're going to put that Fielding boy out of commission — flat on his back. Petey, Profes- sor Bland is a regular pandemonium of loud sounds. And I don't mind telling you that you 're a very lucky child. Shake, Strong, shake. You have Sylvester lashed to the mast. ' ' 297 :aroon tales Across the campus, Wally Miles was re- marking to a tall, pug-nosed youth : "If you don't land the entire front page and spill over on the second, you 're a feather- weight, Silver, a bantam, and no mistake. What a whale of a yarn. I mean your yarn, not mine. ,, Which impelled Silver to stick out his lower lip, disparagingly — "like papa," the fellows described it. Perhaps the boys may be pardoned for the thoughts that surged within them as they went to their eight-thirties next morning. For, as Professor Bland himself might have said, who indeed can hear, unmoved, the glorious, rustling wings of onrushing Victory! who contemplate with calm, cold eye the enemy's swift rout? Silver sat in The Maroon office after luncheon, swinging his legs and gazing out mournfully at the unfriendly elements. It was trying to snow and rain and blow a blizzard all at once. The telephone bell rang. Some one wanted Mr. Fielding. "Mr. Fielding ?" said the voice. "Ah! This is Mr. Bland. I am now permitted to release 298 THE GBEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP the item of which I told you yesterday. You may see me at my home if you so desire/ ' 1 i Thank you, I '11 come. ' ' Silver smiled and bowed to the transmitter. He turned to Chalmers. "Chalmers, I 've got a big story from Pro- fessor Bland/ ' he exclaimed. " Better hold a column for me." That was the way Leeming would have said it. Petey rushed in just as Silver, leering trium- phantly, dashed out. Petey knew that leer and suspected it. Maybe he could do a thing or two himself! He went to the telephone and called Professor Bland's office. No one an- swered. He called Professor Bland's house. "Maroon?" came the professor's voice. "I thought I requested you to see me at my home. Possibly the connection was poor. Yes, at once, if you find it convenient. ' ' "I wonder if he means Silver," thought Petey. To Chalmers he said: n I 've got a whopper of a story, I think — Professor Bland," and ran out into the storm. "Let them alone, Hal," said the news editor. "It 's cruel, but you wanted to see." Wet but cheerful, Petey and Silver hastened 299 MAEOON TALES forth by converging routes that brought then into unexpected contact at a corner near th professor's house. The same thought flash over both. "Hello!" said Petey. "Hello!" said Silver. "Where you going?" "I'm taking a walk." "Where to?" 1 ' No place. I 'm a back-to-nature fiend. ' They stopped before Professor Bland's door "Well!" said Petey. "Well!" "I want to speak to Professor Bland- alone. ' ' "So do I." Silver's surprise was turning to wrath. "Say, what are you after, anyway I 'd like to know?" "Don't try that now, Silver. It 's too thin You 're after my story. ' ' Petey too was angr} "What!" Silver was astonished at th cleverness of this bold trick. Petey grew more indignant with the sec onds. "I don't know how you worked it," h said; "but you 're certainly pretty smooth— pret — tee smooth." 300 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP "Don't flatter me so," returned Silver, darting deadly glances. "I take off my hat to you, Peter. You 'd make a professional crook look sick." 1 'Fielding !" " Strong !" The sleety rain was chilling them through. They rang the bell. Professor Bland answered the door. "It is rather disagreeable out, is it not?" he said in greeting. "I am from The Maroon/' Petey answered intelligently. "The Maroon," echoed Silver. "Ah!" The professor smiled. "Which is Mr. Fielding ?" Petey was astounded. "I think you promised me an interview," he said. "My name is Strong. " Silver "ahemmed" mockingly. "I am," said he, disregarding the interrup- tion. "Dear me, gentlemen," purred Professor Bland. "It is of no consequence to me which one gets it. Will you be kind enough to wait in the library? I have not finished." 301 MAROON TALES He hastily led the way to the library an placed two straight-backed chairs upon spongy-looking yellow rng. " Kindly sit here, gentlemen, ' ' he said is very wet outside, is it not ? ' J He shuffled out of the room. In a monie the click of a typewriter reached the wrathf hustlers, condemned by reason of their super latively moist condition to sit unpleasantly close their chairs almost touching, for any attemp to move about would be registered in tattlin rivulets on the floor. Neither boy spoke. Th long finger of the library clock moved slow! forward — made a complete revolution. Th click-clack continued, insistent and intermina ble. The yellow rug was soaking through "Ah!" The professor glided into the library, tw large envelopes in one hand, two white visitin cards in the other. * ' I find two cards in my desk, ' ' he said. ' ' Mr Peter William Strong and Mr. Sylvester Henr Fielding." Petey and Silver glanced at each other some embarrassment. They felt conflictin emotions. 302 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP ' ' Perhaps, ' ' Professor Bland went on, ' ' under the circumstances, I should present each with a copy. You will find the information quite com- plete/ J He gave Petey one of the envelopes, handing the other to Silver. * ' This way, gentle- men. I hope I have not kept you waiting. Good day, gentlemen." Once more exposed to the weather, Petey and Silver halted, quaking, under the shelter of a bare-branched oak. Ordinarily they would have apologized. But this did not seem neces- sary. "Well, Silver ?" said Petey. "Well, Peter ?" 1 ' We seem to be on the home stretch. ' ' "Home stretch it is." "Everything fair and square ?" "Fair and square it is." "What '11 we do?" "There's one way " "What 's that?" "Race for it." "Race is good." "Ready?" "Ready." Professor Bland's house was more than a 303 ;' MAROON mile from the campus. All roads to the Cit; Gray were hostile. The footing could not have been worse. The sidewalks were polished glass, the parkings, treacherous, rolling slides of ice, the streets mushy puddings of slush that had once been honest mud. The cold rain beat upon the ground, splashing impudently. Every- thing favored an eventful race. It was a spectacle. Side by side ran Petey and Silver, ran and slipped and skidded an stumbled, bending sidewise and back at the cal of muscle-straining wrenches, arms flopping wildly, first one and then the other spurting ahead and paying for it each time with periods of slower stumbling that brought him once more even with the enemy. Always side by side, sometimes in stride, no words but im- precations tossed back by the storm, on they tore. At last the campus. Blowing like Strang sea-animals, hats flopping against streaming faces, drenched coats winding round drenchec trousers, they started the final sprint. Silver was never sure how it happened. The only certainty was that it did happen. Pumping along between Eyerson and Kent, 304 THE GEEAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP Silver's legs did a queer thing. They flew forward and upward very rapidly. Silver's body described a graceful arc, as a comet shooting earthward. Silver alighted with much force. His most vivid sensation was of his spine being driven into and through his skull. He continued to sit, one leg doubled foolishly under him. Petey bent over the fallen athlete, asking if it hurt. Silver rolled his head in agonized negation, but allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He could n 't run. He could n 't walk. He could only hop. The finish was weird. Petey supported the cripple, an arm about his waist; Silver hopped bravely and painfully. And they for- got that the race was over. They hurried on. Now they were almost there. Silver hopped desperately. Only a rod more — only a yard Petey banged heavily into the door of The Maroon office, and pushed it open. He dragged his rival straight to the news editor's desk, pulled out Silver's envelope, then his own, and slapped them down on the news editor's blot- ting-pad. Silver sagged heavily, pulled loose, and dropped to the floor. 305 MAEOON TALES Petey turned swiftly. And there, around th long table, as if petrified, sat the entire boar< of editors, staring at him in silent amazement He sat down in Eoberts swivel-chair and lookec at the pools of water flowing from his clothes chasing each other across the room, meeting and parting in strange patterns; then down a the soggy bunch of wet overcoat which wa Silver. "The meeting stands adjourned/ ' North, the managing editor. Then came a confusion of sounds — exclama tions, questions, laughter, girls' voices. Petey took off his hat. He sat there, pan ing and alone, while gentle hands cared fo the wearied Silver. A great deal of talk anc fuss was going on — all for Silver. "Is he hurt?" "Are you hurt, Fielding ?" "Just your knee?" "That's good." "Yes, lift him up." "On the table." * ' Easy now. Heave him. ' ' "All right now?" "He 's a regular cloudburst." 306 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP " Strike up the band." Now the crowd surged around the swivel- chair. "What 's all this about, anyway !" Chalmers asked. "The story," gasped Petey. ' ' The sto — ory, ' * piped Silver, from his posi- tion in the rear. "In the envelope," Petey murmured. "In the envelope," shrilled Silver. Chalmers ripped open one of the damp packets, extracted the bulky contents, glanced over the opening paragraphs. Petey watched. Robert's face was expressionless as he handed the story to North. North's mouth moved slightly. He passed the copy to Katherine Snowden. "Read it," he said. "The board ought to hear it. It 's the only one of its kind." Miss Snowden began to read from the closely written pages. It was like this : " ' Professor Bland, in an interview with a representative of this journal recently made public the gift to the University of a unique and valuable collection of monographs on the fossils of' — why, I know about fossils — 'Op- 307 MAROON TALES hiderpeton, Dolichosoma, Molgophis, Ptyonius — I can do it even faster — 'Hylonomidae, Tudi tanidae, Stegocepllala , — lucky I took thai course — page eight — 'its vertebrae are phyl lospondylous' — poor thing! — and this one hac 'a jugal canal on the supratemporaP — nc wonder it ossified — here 's a picture of a starv- ing tadpole — how it reminds me of the Dicerato- saurus robustus — page thirteen — listen, Mar- gery — 'the squamosal of ' " Miss Snowden stopped, exhausted. " Shall I continue V she asked. "There are fifteen more pages." "No, thanks," said Chalmers. "We can guess the rest. It will do for a note next week. One of the new reporters can fix it up." One of the new reporters! Petey's heart sank. He stole a glance at Silver, who had hopped into the foreground. Silver looked sad. It may have been the knee. "This is the worst I ever saw," said th news editor, severely. "Which of you owns this thing!" The story went unclaimed. The envelopes could not be identified. 308 THE GREAT PASTE-POT HANDICAP "We '11 have a look at those strings now," said Chalmers. "Produce 'em." He stretched the dirty, wet strings side by side on the desk, then crumpled them into small wads and flicked them away. "Exactly even," he announced. "Dead heat. Broke the tape the same identical frac- tion." Silver wondered whether it would be Mud Horse or Devilish Dubb. Petey fumbled with his cap, and arose. "Well, Chalmers," he said, "I sort of thought I had landed something this time. I 'm sorry. So long." "Don't hurry," said Chalmers, cordially. "Stick around. I want you to carry an edito- rial down to the press for me. You can take your last squint at the office, too." The news editor picked up a sheet of paper, referred to the secretary's minutes, and wrote for a minute while the board chattered. He gave the copy to Petey. "You may look at it if you wish, Strong," he said. Petey turned misty eyes upon the page. The editorial began: 309 MAROON TALES "The Maroon takes pleasure in informing its readers that the following have been elected to the reportorial positions — M After that came some names. The first two were startlingly familiar. Petey read them over and over, to make sure. Then he reached out an arm and pulled Silver into his lap, flapping the paper before his eyes. While they were recovering, Chalmers made a speech. "Step up, folks," he said. "Step up and look. It 's twins." One of the associate editors whooped. The newest reporters grinned sheepishly. "How 's your knee, Silver?" inquired Petey. 310 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY MANY seniors keep up a splendid interest in their studies during the Spring Quarter, even to cutting dances and meetings of the printing committee. And these are the wise. Foolish indeed are those who sit in the back row and match pennies; but occasionally they reform, for reasons more or less urgent. Bob Forrest, now, cultivated printed books and messy notes in the last days because he had wagered twenty dollars on his chances of get- ting a diploma. He said he would buy some- thing useful with his winnings — a pipe-rack, maybe, or a new collar for the Zeta dog. Curtis, who lived across the hall in Hitch- cock, delivered the Recorder's note as For- rest and Norry Norton were talking senior politics in Bob's room. Forrest thought it looked like a chapel deficiency, but it was worse than that. It informed him, in the subtly ironical , heart-chilling phraseology known only to the faculty, that special examinations would be re- 311 MAEOON TALES quired in two of his courses. Whereupon Noi ton fixed the bet at even money, and Curtis lei awkwardly, observing in a matter-of-fact ton that it was hard luck and that he was "in th same hole." Forrest suggested pitch, smilini cooly at Norry's unsympathetic comments, am silently cursing minutely and vigorously eacl syllable of the Recorder's communication. When a chronic loafer is held for senio] ' ' exams, ' ' there *s not much hope for him. Nor ton dwelt on this point with glee, and revealec his plans for spending the twenty. He woulc give a feed, he said, and Forrest himself, half -mourning, should be toast-master. He w undecided whether to order course by course 01 leave the whole thing to the head-waiter. For Norry was convinced that his money wa safe. It was well known that Forrest hac reached his final year with less learning than any other senior since colleges began; and tha his last Quarter had been his masterpiece o scholastic vagrancy. As the University of Chicago does not exist for such as he, no futur senior can possibly be so worthless — a cheerin or depressing thought, according to the poin of view. 312 :i HONORS IN DIPLOMACY Of course, Forrest did the unexpected. Even Norry would not have supposed that he would slip from his room, interview two professors, and heed their words. The professors, who were preparing for vacations abroad, were in- clined to be facetious. One of them said he was delighted to meet Mr. Forrest, a pleasure that had been denied him in the classroom. The other, leering horribly, said he often feared that young men lacked imagination. They agreed, with unconcealed satisfaction, that the specials would be rather difficult. And while he was digesting this news and a late luncheon, he called on Curtis, whom he hardly knew. They considered the situation with great frankness, though Forrest felt that he was probably making a pathetic fool of himself. "The trouble with me is, I have n't any back- bone,' J Bob said, as he lounged, in truly inver- tebrate fashion, in Curtis 's largest chair. "All I want is moral support — I don't like tutors. It's mighty lucky we 're down in the same courses, because I specially wnnt that diploma. If I fail to pry that twenty out of Norry Norton, I '11 consider my education a terrific fizzle." 313 MAEOON TALES . "I don't suppose you 're doing it just for th< bet, are you?" asked Curtis. "You mus< have other reasons.' ' "I may have, but I can't stop to think their up now, because I've got to go to a dinner- dance in the country, and I have to dress," and Forrest ran a disapproving eye over his fault- lessly clothed person. "But really, Curtis, I did not expect to be stuck for the finals. ' ' "I knew I was down," said Curtis. "Yo can't be a captain of industry and the big squeeze in the Phi Beta Kappa at one and the same time. You know how it goes to work your way." "Yes, I know," sympathized Bob, who hac not the slightest notion, except that a gooc many fellows were said to earn their educatio by doing some sort of stunts. He suppose they had to go slow on cabs and things unt pay-day. As one of his friends put it, Forres had thoughtlessly allowed himself to be th only son of wealthy and loving parents, an had tried to make amends by insisting on a thic skull, which kept him from realizing his oppor tunities. 314 HONOES IN DIPLOMACY "Well, it 's Monday now, and the * exams' come on Friday," Curtis figured briskly. "They '11 be three hours long. The Poly Con is five pounds of small print and the Sociology is the same, if not more so." "That 's easy," said Bob, encouragingly. "No trouble at all. I 'd start this afternoon if it weren't for the party this evening. Tomorrow I have some golf finals that can't be passed up. I '11 appear at seven tomorrow night for the getaway. See you then. ' ' He felt quite pleased with the arrangement as he dressed for the dinner-dance, but he soon forgot it because there was nobody about to discuss it with. His room was usually occupied by a small crowd of his friends, who explained that they liked to use his excellent tobacco and scarf-pins. If he happened to be dressing, they made remarks about golden-haired mat- inee idols and clothing advertisements and esthetics. They said it was a shame he was not Head Marshal, he was so decorative; and he looked so well in a track suit that they urged him to make another try for the team. Forrest preferred the costumes worn in golf and polo. 315 MAROON TALES The dance was perfect, but for the mos quitoes. The girls had a cotillion, and Forres and Norton, who stopped at Hitchcock on his way to the Rho house, had great fun tearing painted silk favors into queer shapes. Later, they finished their pitch series and talked through smoke. "Isabelle Blythe was much interested in your degree, ' ' volunteered Norry, raking in his game. "You might leave me out of your talk." "We did," smiled Norry. "We hardly mentioned you all evening." "Don't say we, Norry. You 're too previous. It strikes me that Miss Blythe is rather fonc of me." "Exactly. For I noticed that she invitee me to the dance, and I heard her refuse to le you fill up her entire program. Let 's not argu about it, because it 's a clear case of freeze-ou for you, Bobby." Bob shrugged his shoulders, and alio wee Norry to trump a ten-spot. "She talked a good deal about brothe Tommy," Norry resumed. "She thinks Tomm is 0. K. Remember what a little sport he use to be?" 316 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY Forrest wasted an unfavorable adjective on Tommy Blythe. "I wonder if lie 's still cut- ting up," he said. "You know I 'm re- sponsible for him — promised bis father. Lord, the things I told that infants trusting parent. It makes me blush. I guaranteed to subdue him, protect him, nurse him and send him forth a perfect specimen, morally, physically, spirit- ually and a few other ways. I have n't seen the little wretch in two months, excepting at a meal or so. Must look him up." "Your affection for Tommy is indeed touch- ing," said Norry. "I want him to pass his studies — that 's what freshmen are for. And I promised his father. ' ' "I understand you are greatly stuck on his father." "Well, I think I stand in with Tommy's fam- ily as well as some others." Norry smiled the smile of the very wise. Bob inquired, "Did she say anything about his studies ? ' ' "Maybe she did, but I heard so much airy persiflage that I 'm not sure. Most of the sen- ior fellows were having nightmares out on the 317 MAEOON TALES lawn over finding jobs — regular funeral. Aboi everybody was there." " Curtis wasn't there." " Curtis V 1 "The fellow across the hall. I just hear him come in and slam his door. I suppose he ' been out somewhere, working." "Speaking of work," said Norry, "I '11 be he's as sore as a goat about getting caught oi the specials. Those grave-digger fellows gen erally are." "No, I think you are wrong," Bob ventured "You can't be a captain of industry and th( leading deacon of the Phi Beta Kappa at on< and the same time. Use your head." "You don't even know him, Bob, so cork up Now you 're not sore, of course. You 're jus amused. You know you always made fun o diplomas and grinds." "Wrong again. I simply said I could no see the light that lies in a professor's eyes Also, that a degree was merely a question o being on the job. For instance, if you hac been tending to business, you'd have caught my jack with that ace you 're holding back. You are a rotten fortune teller, Norry. Never shal 318 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY it be said that I objected to being stuffed with knowledge/ ' "Not if you saw plenty of oysters in the stuf- fing.' J " Don't mix figures,' ' Bob retorted. "I 'm no dead turkey, and if I were, I *d be blind. If you think my credits were all pearl-bearing, I '11 let you take a peek at my course-book.' ■ He rummaged numerous drawers and boxes, finally discovering the course-book in a pile of discarded magazines. Sprawled on the floor, he regarded the contents with puzzled frowns, while Norry, who lay on the cot, awaited his comment. "This one," he began, punctuating each entry with a dig of his paper-knife, "was about how you ought to live in a community apart- ment and buy cream-puffs and canned beans at a community kitchen so that the cook would have time to study the contemporary French composers. Clever scheme, only you *d have to live in a flat, which is impossible. Here 's Eng- lish — Beowulf, Ecgtheow's bairn — reminded me of an intoxicated buzz-saw. I remember the 'prof* asked Ted Lamed who was the greatest American poet, and he said: 'Why, I don't 319 MABOON TALES know. I Ve never had this course before. ' H< almost got canned for it. I took this Germai 3 to make up for deficient Physics in prep school. Hello, here 's old Debater Socrates Republic— or is it Plato's!" "It's immaterial," murmured Norry. "Don' stop to split hairs." "Ethics, now, was the best course I ever had Stella Andrews and I used to play foolish-puz zle all hour. Poly Con 1 — that was the differ ence between an entrepreneur and something else — probably a farmer. I dropped out of this one because the 'prof said we couldn't blufl him on references and quotation marks. He was a humorist, as it turned out. He asked mi the first day where the Aleutian Islands were. I thought he said highlands, and bet on Scot- land. I lost." "Why don't you get up some light lessons for flat thinkers?" suggested Norton. "Your method would be original." "That reminds me of the course Grace Camp- bell took," laughed Forrest. "The girls had to go on a fake shopping tour, and Grace orderec seven double sirloins for a family of six, so tha there would be one extra for the baby— she said HONORS IN DIPLOMACY babies were always so hungry. Here were some good ones last year. I could always count on two solid hours of sleep after a busy night. Which brings me to my present difficulties. My eight-thirty is the price of buttons in New Zealand, and the two o'clock is mostly defective children. I hate defective children. If I ever catch one of 'em " "Let me take twenty dollars, Bob," ex- claimed Norry. "Really need it, or do you want to squander it on airships and peanuts V 9 "I need it — haven't tasted real food for a week — but I 'm too proud to beg. I mean the twenty you were foolish enough to bet me. After listening to your recent discourse, I think we might as well cash in right now. ,, "You 're making the mistake of your young life." Forrest tossed aside the course-book and stood against the wall, hands deep in pockets. "Norry, I believe you honestly think I 'm an infernal blooming idiot," he said. "Let 's not go into that," smiled Norton. "You would be sure to get angry. But don't you care. You '11 be more of a social lion than 321 MAEOON TALES ever. It 's getting to be quite the thing — to b< dropped." " Dropped!" That was all Forrest said. He began peel ing off his clothes, whistling softly. Much wisdom moved Norton to silence. H< arose, cleared the table by the window — ther< were some girls* photographs, one of Miss Isa belle Blythe — and constructed upon it, of book. 1 and bric-a-brac, a tottering shrine, on the toj of which he propped two uncut volumes, flankec by a paper-knife and a huge pair of field glasses. Forrest's "good night" was civil. Norry glanced back at Hitchcock as he struc across the campus. A green-shaded lamp glowed in Curtis 's room. Behind the swaying net curtains of Forrest's windows a liveliei scene was depicted : A partially disrobed youth outlined in statuesque defiance; suddenly a fly ing shower of books and papers ; a head thrus out for an instant; then the swift descent o the blinds. 322 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY II Curtis had dissatisfied black hair and earnest cheek-bones and a forehead that looked as if it could turn out A's in every course. Perhaps it could, given the time, for, unlike Forrest, Curtis had done a few things thoroughly. He knew as much about business as Bob knew about polo ponies. They seemed certain to learn from each other. Forrest decided at once that he must assume the leadership — that was one of his habits. After he had won his Tuesday golf match — that was another habit, winning things — he per- suaded himself that the cramming would be more successful if prepared for in an artistic manner. As he was passing a theater when he reached this conclusion, he promptly bought box seats for " Silly Milly" and telephoned Curtis, who came protestingly, on Bob's prom- ise to begin work after the show. The enter- tainment proved so saddening that Forrest felt obliged to buy a highly-illuminated supper, which included jack-snipe and an enormous rabbit. He then ordered a package of sand- 323 MAEOON TALES wiches, and called a cab, not only because t sandwiches made it necessary, but that the ride to the campus might induce the correct sta of mind for the midnight study period. As sometimes happens, these two seniors b gan to wonder why they had held such queei opinions of each other. Forrest displayed great interest in Curtis 's work, and asked hiir what position he was filling. He had an im mense admiration for people who could "hole down jobs." "I have not bought out any one concern, ' said Curtis. "This quarter, I am a publi typewriter, a solicitor of advertisements and c contributor to a lumber journal — I used to spli kindling when I was a child." "Then you 're a self-made man," cried Bob "I 've heard it was a very fine thing. Yo ought to be all puffed up about it." "It 's nothing to crow over in my case,' said Curtis. "That 's mostly what got m hung up in my studies." Forrest dismissed the argument with a wav of his glove. "Blow anyhow. Now there was my great grandfather. He made himself. Father spring 324 HONOES IN DIPLOMACY him on me every Sunday afternoon at two o'clock when I 'm home. Great-grandfather used to walk sixty-three miles to school every morning and back again for luncheon and din- ner. It was bitter cold the year round, and he had only a few shoes and scarcely any fur over- coats — father 's especially proud of that. I tell him he probably had a brougham waiting be- hind the barn. The old boy kept a diary, too — sounds like Caesar overcoming the Helvetians at one fell slap. He died in his prime, great- grandfather did. "But you needn't feel too chesty," he cautioned Curtis, after advising the cabby not to overheat his " thoroughbred.' ' "You can't be anything big nowadays unless you 've been a poor little newsboy or a starving bootblack on Christmas Eve. Think of it ! Here we are, being ruined in college, when we might be improving our time. "We might even be chimney-sweeps. I consider that one of the greatest questions now confronting the American people." Curtis attempted, without success, to intro- duce the subject of Political Economy. Forrest was too much concerned with the problems of the nation. While Curtis was preparing his 325 MAEOON TALES I sound room for the cramming, his guest fell asleep in his chair, an unopened book in his lap. He had tried to be decent. Curtis slipped a note under Forrest's door in the morning, calling attention to a confer- ence at the Keynolds Club. Bob overslept, and reached the Club in time to lunch at the Com- mons, where he met some friends. He left word that he had been kidnaped and carried to an honor society banquet. By midnight, when Curtis had finished his review, he had not re- turned. Next morning he explained : "I 'm mighty sorry. Lost my books, too had all the fellows looking for them, but we couldn't find them. That's funny, because one was a red book and the other was green. I dropped a whole day, didn't I?" "I 'm going to give you an old list of ex- amination questions to see if you know any- thing whatever about Poly Con," Curtis announced. * ' Take this and go somewhere and get busy." The answers were ready at noon. Most of them were meaningless ; the rest were amusing. " Don't judge me too harshly," said Forrest. HONOES IN DIPLOMACY "I went to the Club and was just beginning to get some sense out of my notes when one of those college quartets came in and sang * Sweet Evening Star.' Did you ever hear * Sweet Evening Star* as a quartet? I threw chairs at them, but they kept right on and when they started the * Hand-organ Sextet,' I had to run for Cobb. But that was worse, on account of one of those poor, howling unfortunates who study Public Speaking aloud. Awfully sad case — perfectly hopeless. And one of the ques- tions was about defective children. I believe they just do it to arouse sympathy. I 'd like to " "The trouble with you," said Curtis, angrily, "is that your parents like you too much. You 're not going to be handed your diploma on a silver tray. If you care for my candid opin- ion, I '11 say this much. I think, after the chance you had — and after the big talk you put up — that it will be a dirty disgrace if you get kicked out of the class.' ' Forrest selected a topaz pin. "You ought to go on the stage, Curtis," he said. "I believe you have temperament." And he swung out of the room. 327 MAROON TALES Curtis called Norton in consultation. "I don't know much about this bet you have with Forrest, but I think you 've won it, Nor- ton,' ' he said. "He seems to have passed it up. I thought I should tell you about the arrange- ment we made, because you know him so well. I don't see why he ever came to me in the first place." "That," said Norry, "is one of the things that we can never know. And as far as that bet is concerned, I don't want to win — never did. You may think it was a queer thing to do, but I put up that twenty for the sole and only purpose of trying to get him to work. I thought he would go after the degree just to fool me. He does things like that. I wonder that you took the trouble to help him." "I want to finish the job, now I 've started it," Curtis returned simply. "He is making a miserable farce of it, but I 'm still hoping. The explanation is — I like him, Norton." "Yes, that 's what they all say. People lik him, so they smooth away all the rough places. Somebody will insist upon expiring in his plac when his time comes to croak." "Probably you're right. He has lots o 328 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY friends. There was a fellow up here only ten minutes ago looking for him — by the way, he asked for you, too. He said his name was Ely the." A l Tommy Bly the ! * 9 exclaimed Nor ry . ' l Don 't laugh, but Bob Forrest is that young person's confidential adviser. He 'd do anything for him. I believe he M even study for him." Norry jumped up suddenly. "I — I Ve got an idea," he cried. "Did it bite you?" "We '11 make a tutor of Bob. He must save Tommy Bly the from the wrath of the ' profs'." "Do you call that an idea? It sounds more like a brain-gurgle." "Listen, Curtis, and hold me if I get dan- gerous. We have now discovered that moral suasion, refined cruelty and kindness are power- less. We must therefore finesse. I 'm a head professor of finessing. Bob Forrest thinks he 's the only salvation of that freshman. He 's hav- ing remorse right now. We must make him think that the Grand Order of Flunkers is about to be conferred upon Tommy. We '11 give him the proper books, and he '11 study an arm off — 329 MAEOON TALES for Tommy. Only, he might recognize the books." "He will not. He doesn't even know their titles. But Tommy might put him wise." "We '11 bind and gag Tommy, if necessary," and Norry looked as though he would enjoy the operation. "I '11 do picket duty." i ' It may work, ' ' Curtis admitted ; ' < and again, it may not. He has all night before him — the 'exams' come tomorrow. You give him these books — he thinks he lost them last night. They tell the whole thing, and if he just reads them, he is bound to get through the i exams.' He has the head, if he applies himself. Now let 's adjourn to his room and wait for him." "I have a little the advantage of him on certain proposition that may help some," con- fessed Norry. "I 'm in dead right myself, and I can use it to stir up his blood — he thinks he has a chance." Norry grinned broadly and passed a hand over one of his coat pockets. The pocket con- tained a small photograph of Miss Isabelle Blythe. He explained: "Oh, it 's just a personal matter. You might 330 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY call it a — a rivalry. But here he comes now, as the actorino said." The scheme worked smoothly. Norry was not even forced to lie as much as he had ex- pected. "That blamed freshman is going to flunk — I know he is," growled Forrest. "I Ve been waiting for it. That 's why he was looking for me. I 'm going to tutor him." "But you need the time for your own studies," objected Norton. "It 's suicidal," Curtis groaned. "Hang my own studies." Forrest was pac- ing the floor. "Hang Tommy, too. He hasn't any sense of responsibility. I '11 call him up now." "Oh, no, don't do that!" Curtis said hastily. <> MAEOON TALES "I knew," lied Forrest, "that he was very brilliant. ' ' "Aw, say," remonstrated Tommy, cutting circles on the sidewalk with the toe of an elaborately buckled shoe. "I hear you stopped at my room, Tommy," Bob hinted. "Yes." Tommy hesitated and looked at his sister. "Isabelle's giving one of those new- thought dinners tonight. The game is, to guess what you 're eating. That is, if yon do manage to eat — I can't. I was going to ask " "Tommy refused to attend, and was looking for a substitute," interrupted Miss Blythe. And Norry 's confident grin froze on his face when she added : "I think you deserve the reward, Mr. For- rest. You 've worked so hard for your degree. The dinner 's to be very informal, so you ma} come right along with me." Without further ceremony, Tommy surren- dered the parasol to Forrest and made o across the campus as if fearing more changes in his sister's queer dinner plans. "Good-by, Norry," sang Bob. "Good-by, Curtis. Keep cheerful, Norry." 336 HONORS IN DIPLOMACY They walked on, Bob Forrest and Isabelle Blythe. Norry went slowly back*to the "C" Bench, and sat down beside Curtis. "Curtis," he said, "I 'm getting altogether too generous. I need a long, long rest, or a sea voyage or something." "I begin to see why he studied all night," ob- served Curtis, ponderously. "He 's interested in Tommy Blythe \s relatives. It looks like a family affair.' ' "So does my twenty," sighed Norry, gazing after the white parasol, just disappearing be- hind the trees. "I had hoped that he 'd spend it on a steak. But he won't. He '11 buy roses- pink ones. She 's very fond of them— big pink roses — with long stems." 337 KBTUKNTOOBSK^ I.OAN Dfcr 'L 1 be 1 o«o r u.\ast date stamper o ReoeW ed books at e»^_ aasrsvff KO bUSW