, on the whole, that he could make his
escape. One of his hands was blistered and he wanted to get back to his
room and put on some cooling lotion. He would not admit this before Miss
Fuller, for he did not want to cause her any more pain.

The girl sank back on a couch as Andy went out of the dressing room. But
she smiled brightly at him, and murmured:

"I'll see you again, some time."

"Sure," assented the lad. He wondered whether she would.

Then he rejoined his chums and they left the theatre. There was a
little crowd in front, attracted by the rumor that an actress had been
burned. As Andy and his friends made their way through the throng to a
car he heard someone call:

"Dat's de guy what saved her!"

"You're becoming famous, Andy, my boy!" whispered Tom.

"Forget it," advised his chum.

The boys reached their dormitory with a scant minute or so to spare
before locking-up time, for the rules were rather strict at Milton.
There were hasty good-nights, promises to meet on the morrow, and then
quiet settled down over the school.

Andy went to his room, and for a minute, before turning on the light, he
stood at the window looking over the campus. Many thoughts were surging
through his brain.

"It sure has been one full little day," he mused. "The scrap with the
farmer, dousing the sparks on that girl, and--deciding on going to Yale!

"Jove, though, but I'm glad I've made up my mind! Yale! I wonder if I'll
be worthy of it?"

Andy leaned against the window and looked out to where the moonlight
made fantastic shadows through the big maples on the green. Before his
eyes came a picture of the elm-shaded quadrangle at Yale, which once he
had crossed, hardly dreaming then that he would ever go there.

"Yale! Yale!" he whispered to himself. "What a lot it means! What a lot
it might mean! What a lot it often doesn't signify. Oh, if I can only
make good there!"

For some time Andy had been vacillating between two colleges, but
finally he had settled on Yale. His parents had left him his choice, and
now he had made it.

"I must write to dad," he said. "He'll want to know."

It was too late to do it now. They had not come back as early as they
had intended. The bell for "lights out," clanged, and Andy hastily
prepared for bed.

"Only a few more days at old Milton," he whispered to himself. "And then
for Yale!"

The closing days of the term drew nearer. Examinations were the order of
the day, and many were