to Winthrop Will was seated beside his father, and as they
drew near the college town Mr. Phelps, who was not to stop, but was at
once going home, said: "Well, Will, what of the year? It's done now."

"Yes," responded Will simply. "It's not been so bad."

"What about the Greek?"

"Oh, Splinter's not half-bad either," laughed Will. "I think I'll go
down and see him before I come home."

"I should. And you're not sorry that you didn't give up to Greek?"

"Not a bit."

"And you think winning the 'hundred' to-day is worth it all?"

"It isn't that. It's the feeling that I haven't given up. Of course I'm
glad to get my 'W' and I was mighty sorry not to get my numerals. But
this makes up for it. I'm glad I won out for myself and more for the
college. I tell you, pop, Winthrop is the best college in the world!"

"And you wouldn't like to leave now?"

"Leave? Well, I guess not!"

"I hear that Peter John is not to come back," said Mr. Phelps soberly.

"Why not?"

"I can't say. I don't even know that he is not to return. I have heard
it, that's all; but I fancy you know more about it than I."

Will was silent till the train was near Winthrop. "Well, Will," said his
father, breaking in, "I'm to leave you here. Do you want to know what I
value most in your year's work?"

"What is it?"

"That you've learned how to work. When a man learns that, much of the
problem of his life is solved. Some men run from hardness, some endure
it, and some overcome it."

"It hasn't been so hard."

Mr. Phelps smiled but all he said was, "Good-bye, Will, we'll look for
you soon at home. I think you've made a good investment this year."

"In what?" inquired Will in surprise.

But his father only smiled and grasped his son's hand for a moment and
soon the train pulled out from the little station; but as long as the
crowd of students, noisy, boisterous, happy, could be seen as they moved
up the street he watched them with shining eyes. Then as he resumed his
seat he thoughtfully said to himself, "Yes, Will has learned it. I did
not know for a time whether he would or not. But he has and I don't
think Splinter, or Mott, or Peter John, or anything, or any one can take
it away from him now."

And he resumed the reading of his evening paper, while the noisy train
sped on bearing him farther and farther from Winthrop, but the Winthrop
college boy was nearer to him all the time.

THE END

BOOKS FOR BOYS

THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS