uous. "You're just doing it to coax Mother into
inviting Katy and Gertie."

"I just bet I can, Ernest Morton. Of course I want her to invite Katy
and Gertie, but I'm no old cheat, I thank you, I'm going to help the
best I can all summer if she asks 'em."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Don't you dare hint such a thing--she's going to--I think you're real
hateful! I just don't care whether you get to go to college or not."

"Maybe I don't want to."

Something in Ernest's tone made Jane glance up in surprise.

"Don't want to? Why, you've been daffy about it--you haven't thought
about anything else for a year!"

"That's so, too, but I guess I can change my mind, can't I?"

Ernest lounged on the edge of the table and looked at his sister
teasingly.

He was almost six feet tall, slim and muscular, with the unruly lock of
hair sticking up in defiance of all brushing as of old, and a skin that
was still girlishly smooth though he shaved religiously every Sunday
morning to the family's secret amusement. The results of this rite were
painfully meager. Both Chicken Little and Frank chaffed him unmercifully
about it. Jane loved to pass her hands over his chin and shriek
fiendishly:

"Ernest, I believe I felt one. I think--really, I think you'll cut 'em
by Christmas!" A lively race usually followed this insult.

Frank was even meaner. He came into Ernest's room one morning while he
was shaving and gravely pretending to pick up a hog's stiff bristle from
the carpet, held it out to him.

"Why Ernest, you're really growing quite a beard!"

But Ernest was a man in many ways if he had but little need of a razor.
Seeing other boys so seldom and being thrown so much with men had made
him rather old for his years and more than ordinarily capable and
self-reliant. He loved horses and was clever in managing them, breaking
in many a colt that had tried the patience and courage of his elders.
But his day dream for the past twelve months had been college. He had
confided all his hopes and fears to Chicken Little. The love between the
two was very tender, the more so that they had so few companions of
their own ages.

So Chicken Little, knowing that he had fairly lived and breathed and
slept and eaten college during many months, might be pardoned for her
amazement at his mysterious words.

"Ernest, tell me--what's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter--I've got a new idea, that's all."

"What is it? Where'd you get it?"

"From the