essed my cheek to them in long farewell
... first glancing cautiously around, to be sure that no one was near to
observe my actions....

I did not say good-bye to Langworth or my other professor friends, as
they had already left for their summer vacations.

* * * * *

I sat in Joe Deacon's room, talking, that last night of my sojourn in
Laurel....

"Good old Joe" we called him, because he was possessed of all the
old-fashioned virtues, and unassumingly lived up to them. He was a
fellow member of the Scoop Club, an associate teacher in the School of
Journalism, and taught during the summer session....

Long, long Joe and I talked ... of everything young idealists discuss or
dream of. We ended with a discussion of the sex question. I reiterated
what he already had heard me say, that I had had so far no sex
experience. He confessed that he, also, had had none ... maintained that
a decent man should wait, if he expected a woman to come pure to him....

I spoke ardently in favour of free love.

He assented that, theoretically, it was the thing ... but there were a
multitude of practical difficulties that made for favour of the
convention of marriage....

"No, if a convention is wrong, it is the duty of everyone who knows the
right in his heart, to help smash that convention...."

"You just wait," I boasted imaginatively, "and I'll show you!" "Maybe,
Joe," I concluded, for I knew what I said would tease him, "maybe, when
I reach the East, I shall break loose." Then I added--and to this day I
cannot imagine what put it into my head to say it--what fantastic curl
of thought, unless perhaps a premonition of what was soon to come to
pass--

"Penton Baxter has invited me to pay him a visit at Eden, a Single Tax
Colony just outside of Philadelphia, before I go on to Europe via
cattleboat ... maybe I'll take him up, go down there, and run away with
his wife ... she's a mighty pretty woman, Joe!"

Joe was scandalised at my remark--the effect I had wished for.

* * * * *

But after the uproar broke, Joe stoutly maintained that our elopement
had all been a frame-up, alleging his conversation with me as proof ...
as who would have not?

* * * * *

Reduced again to my barest equipment, and having left as my forwarding
address the office of the _National Magazine_, in New York, I hopped a
freight shortly after dawn. It was a fas