hopefully.

His smile conquered Morse. "You're a good kid, Carver," he cried
impulsively. "A darn good kid. I like you, and I'm going to tell you all
about it. And I--I--I won't care if you laugh."

"I won't laugh," Hugh promised, relieved to think that there was a
possibility of laughing. The trouble couldn't be so awfully bad.

Morse blew his nose, stuck his handkerchief into his pocket, pulled it
out again and dabbed his eyes, returned it to his pocket, and suddenly
stood up.

"I'm homesick!" he blurred out. "I'm--I'm homesick, damned homesick.
I've been homesick ever since I arrived. I--I just can't stand it."

For an instant Hugh did have a wild desire to laugh. Part of the desire
was caused by nervous relief, but part of it was caused by what seemed
to him the absurdity of the situation: a big fellow like Morse
blubbering, bawling for home and mother!

"You can't know," Morse went on, "how awful it is--awful! I want to cry
all the time. I can't listen in classes. A prof asked me a question
to-day, and I didn't know what he had been talking about. He asked me
what he had said. I had to say I didn't know. The whole class laughed,
and the prof asked me why I had come to college. God! I nearly died."

Hugh's sympathy was all captured again. He knew that he _would_ die if
he ever made a fool of himself in the class-room.

"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. For a minute I thought that my
head was going to bust. He quit razzing me and I tried to pay attention,
but I couldn't; all I could do was think of home. Lord! I wish I was
there!" He mopped at his eyes and paced up and down the room nervously.

"Oh, you'll get over that," Hugh said comfortingly. "Pretty soon you'll
get to know lots of fellows, and then you won't mind about home."

"That's what I keep telling myself, but it don't work. I can't eat or
sleep. I can't study. I can't do anything. I tell you I've got to go
home. I've _got_ to!" This last with desperate emphasis.

Hugh smiled. "You're all wrong," he asserted positively. "You're just
lonely; that's all. I bet that you'll be crazy about college in a
month--same as the rest of us. When you feel blue, come in and see
Peters and me. We'll make you grin; Peters will, anyway. You can't be
blue around him."

Morse sat down. "You don't understand. I'm not lonely. It isn't that. I
could talk to fellows all day long if I wanted to. I don't want to talk
to