not by the
condescending gods from abroad who come hither to gather money by
lecturing on our evil habit of money-gathering, and return to Europe
to report that America is a land of Irish politicians, Jewish
theatrical managers, and mining millionaires who invariably say, "I
swan to calculate"; all of them huddled in unfriendly hotels or in
hovels set on hopeless prairie. Not such the America that lifted
Carl's chin in wonder----

Cities of tall towers; tawny deserts of the Southwest and the flawless
sky of cornflower blue over sage-brush and painted butte; silent
forests of the Northwest; golden China dragons of San Francisco; old
orchards of New England; the oily Gulf of Mexico where tramp steamers
puff down to Rio; a snow-piled cabin among somber pines of northern
mountains. Elsewhere, elsewhere, elsewhere, beyond the sky-line, under
larger stars, where men ride jesting and women smile. Names alluring
to the American he repeated--Shenandoah, Santa Ynez, the Little Big
Horn, Baton Rouge, the Great Smokies, Rappahannock, Arizona, Cheyenne,
Monongahela, Androscoggin; canyon and bayou; sycamore and mesquite;
Broadway and El Camino Real....

He hurled along into Plato. He went to Mrs. Henkel's for supper. He
smiled at the questions dumped upon him, and evaded answering. He took
Mae Thurston aside and told her that he was leaving Plato. He wanted
to call on Professor Frazer. He did not dare. From a pleasant
gentleman drinking tea Frazer had changed to a prophet whom he
revered.

Carl darted into his room. The Turk was waiting for him. Carl cut
short the Turk's apologies for not having supported Frazer, with the
dreadful curt pleasantness of an alienated friend, and, as he began
packing his clothes in two old suit-cases, insisted, "It's all
right--was your biz whether you stood up in chapel or not." He hunted
diligently through the back of the closet for a non-existent shoe, in
order to get away from the shamefaced melancholy which covered the
Turk when Carl presented him with all his books, his skees, and his
pet hockey-stick. He prolonged the search because it had occurred to
him that, as it was now eleven o'clock, and the train north left at
midnight, the Minneapolis train at 2 A.M., it might be well to decide
where he was going when he went away. Well, Minneapolis and Chicago.
Beyond that--he'd wait and see. Anywhere--he could go anywhere in all
the world, now....

He popped out of the closet cheerfully.

While