th his arms on the table. Why did
they hammer him so because he told the truth as he saw it? Why must he
toady to the ideas of Bland as everybody else at the University seemed
to do? He was not respectable enough for them. That was the trouble.
They were pushing him back into the gutter whence he had emerged. Wild
fragmentary thoughts chased themselves across the record of his brain.

Almost before he knew it he had ordered and drunk a highball.
Immediately his horizon lightened. With the second glass his depression
vanished. He felt equal to anything.

It was past nine o'clock when he took the University car. As chance had
it Professor Perkins and he were the only passengers. The teacher of
Economics bowed to the flushed youth and buried himself in a book. It
was not till they both rose to leave at the University station that he
noticed the condition of Farnum. Even then he stood in momentary doubt.

With a maudlin laugh Jeff quieted any possible explanation of sickness.

"Been havin' little spree down town, Profeshor. Good deal like one
ev'body been havin' out here. Yours shpiritual; mine shpirituous. Joke,
see! Play on wor'd. Shpiritual--shpirituous."

"You're intoxicated, sir," Perkin's told him sternly.

"Betcherlife I am, old cock! Ever get shp--shp--shpiflicated yourself?"

"Go home and go to bed, sir!"

"Whaffor? 'S early yet. 'S reasonable man I ask whaffor?"

The professor turned away, but Jeff caught at his sleeve.

"Lesh not go to bed. Lesh talk economicsh."

"Release me at once, sir."

"Jush's you shay. Shancellor wants see me. I'll go now."

He did. What occurred at that interview had better be omitted. Jeff was
very cordial and friendly, ready to make up any differences there might
be between them. An ice statue would have been warm compared to the
Chancellor.

Next day Jeff was publicly expelled. At the time it did not trouble him
in the least. He had brought a bottle home with him from town, and when
the notice was posted he lay among the bushes in a sodden sleep half a
mile from the campus.

Part 2

From a great distance there seemed to come to Jeff vaguely the sound
of young rippling laughter and eager girlish voices. Drawn from heavy
sleep, he was not yet fully awake. This merriment might be the music
of fairy bells, such stuff as dreams are made of. He lay incurious,
drowsiness still heavy on his eyelids.

"Oh, Virgie, here's another bunch! Oh, girls, fields of them!"

There