From the moment that he out-boxed that big sophomore, thus saving the honor of the class and bringing everlasting glory to the foresters, Scott’s reputation was established. From an unknown stranger passing quietly and unnoticed from class to class, he had become the lion of the College and one of the “popular” men of the University. Men he had never known hailed him familiarly on the street and in the corridors; girls he had never met smiled at him frankly. A reporter tried to get an interview with him for a big daily paper. Clubs, societies, associations, fraternities, organizations of which he would never have had any knowledge if it had not been for that fateful boxing match, opened their doors to him and invited him cordially to enter. After the quiet life he had led in the little village, with his limited acquaintance and Dick Bradshaw for his only intimate friend, this new life opening before him thrilled him and tingled through his blood like old wine. He remembered his father’s injunction to mix, to study men and learn human character; his new life would give him the opportunity to do it.

He thought he knew now what his father had meant by “responsible companions,” and felt that the fulfillment of that part of the condition for the ten thousand acres was as good as accomplished.

He accepted many of the invitations, took an interest in many of the student activities opened to him, and began to drift more and more into society. His after-supper hour of recreation stretched to two, three, and even four hours, till it looked as though he would have to carry out the threat he had made to Johnson that he would sit up all night studying after the match. Many of his new amusements were expensive, and he soon found himself exceeding his allowance. At last the theater parties, fraternity dances and other diversions became so frequent that he found it impossible to get in the hours of study he had prescribed for himself.

He wrote to Dick Bradshaw of his triumph in the championship match and the consequent honors and civilities that had been heaped upon him. He wrote to his father of his wide acquaintance, of his active participation in the life of the University as a whole, and the great success he was making. Incidentally he asked for an increased allowance.

In short, Scotty’s head was rapidly being turned by his sudden rise to the position of popular idol. He knew in his heart that he was acting foolishly, and would have condemned his own actions if he had taken the time to think seriously about them, but he was too busy and too hilariously happy to think about them at all.

This had been going on for about a month when an impending examination in a subject that he had been sorely neglecting forced him to put in a quiet evening’s study with Johnson. Such evenings had become exceedingly rare of late, and for the first time in his life he found that intense studying for a long time was irksome, in fact he found it hard to concentrate his mind enough to study intensely at all.

About eleven o’clock he yawned, looked longingly at the bed and closed his book with a bang. What was the use of studying so hard, anyway, the examination would take care of itself, he had never failed in one in his life. Johnson, who had missed Scott sorely in his long lonesome evenings of study had been watching him furtively with an expression, half pitying, half contemptuous. He had come to admire Scott intensely, and he hated to see his hero falling so rapidly, and for the objects he had always considered so trivial. He thought that Scott would probably resent any criticism from him, but he was still loyal. He had trained Scott up to that fight and if possible he was going to train him down again. He was no coward and grasped the opportunity to put the disagreeable business through without delay.

“Quitting already?” he asked casually, as Scott slammed to his book.

“Yes,” Scott answered with another yawn, “I’m going to bed. I’m sleepy and sick of the stuff. Guess I know enough to pass anyway.”

“Scotty,” Johnson asked bluntly, “how much allowance have you?”

Scott looked up in surprise, for it was the first time that Johnson had ever asked him such a question, and he did not see what he was after. But he answered frankly. “Forty dollars a month, but I’m running shy. Did you want to borrow some?”

“No,” Johnson answered somewhat proudly, “I earn all I need. Bronson has five hundred a month, Swanson six, and Edwards all he can use.”

These were some of the men Scott had been going with but he could not see the point of Johnson’s remark.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

Johnson came out with it like a man. “Just this, Scotty. Those fellows all have dollars to your pennies and they are going a pace that you cannot stand. They don’t care whether they get through College in four years or forty. If you try to keep up with them you will soon be in debt up to your ears, and as soon as all your money’s gone they will drop you like a hot cake. You’re not in their class.”

“Not in their class!” Scott answered indignantly. “My family is as good as, or better than theirs, any day and that’s what counts. It does not matter home whether you have money or not as long as your family is all right. You can pick all the millionaires you want for company.”

“It may be all right there,” Johnson answered quietly, “but it won’t work here. If you have money it does not matter whether your father was a garbage man or the President of the United States; but believe me, you have to have the money.”

“It has not worked that way so far,” Scott answered defiantly, “and when it does I guess I’ll know it without being told.”

“And in the meantime you are getting in debt deeper every day and that with your father’s money.”

“Is that your business?” Scott cried angrily. It had caused him some compunction to ask his father to increase his allowance when he knew the poor doctor could ill afford it, and the shot hurt him.

“No,” Johnson sighed, “it’s none of my business, and I knew I should be unpopular for butting in, but I had to warn you. A man who comes from Massachusetts to Minnesota on an allowance of forty dollars per month and takes the amount of work that you are taking to save a year’s expenses is not in a position to run with a bunch of millionaires and flunk in all his studies. If you are behind in a single study at the end of the first eight weeks you’ll have to drop all that extra work, and at the rate you have been going you will be behind in a good deal more than one. I’m through now. Think about it before you get too mad,” and he rose to go to bed.

“I’ve never flunked in a subject yet,” Scott answered haughtily. “I can take care of my studies by myself and I do not consider that you can give me many points on my social activities.”

“If that’s the way you feel about it,” Johnson said with quiet dignity, “you’d better go room with someone your equal. I am neither a millionaire nor a society leader.”

“It’s too late tonight,” Scott said angrily, “but I’ll get out fast enough in the morning.”

“Good hunch,” Johnson said with apparent indifference, though it really cut him deeply. He was not angry. He had foreseen all this before he spoke at all. He knew it was the best thing for Scott and he was willing to swallow all these indignities for his sake. He longed to tell Scott how much he cared for him, but that was out of the question under the circumstances. He knew that Scott would come to his senses and thank him some day, but in any event he felt that he had acted the part of a true friend. He crawled into bed with a deep sigh of regret, nearer to a sob than he had come for many years.

Scott sat before the table for some time, his chin on his chest, and a scowl on his face, sullenly flapping the cover of his notebook. He felt bitter against Johnson, for he knew in his heart that Johnson was right, and the truth always cuts deeper than anything else. He thought how his father, already worried over his request for increased allowance, would grieve if he should fail in any of his studies, and he thought of his mother’s advice. Already there were some things that he did not care to write her.

The flapping of the notebook cover fanned a yellow envelope out from between the leaves. He had taken it out of his post office box and dropped it in his notebook without reading it. He tore it open idly and glanced at it. The next instant he was sitting bolt upright reading with unbelieving eyes the following terse note:

Scott gazed at the paper half dazed. Coming as it did on top of Johnson’s harangue it brought him to his senses with a sudden jerk. It was the first time in his life that he had ever fallen short in his studies, and his hurt pride rose triumphant over his social aspirations. What Johnson’s loyal advice had failed to do—probably never would have done—this blow at his student’s reputation did instantly. Johnson had only aroused him to stubborn anger; this cold-blooded sentence forced him to think and use his reason.

Where was he going anyway? What did the pleasures and associations which had loomed so big to him in the past few weeks amount to? Why did those men seek his company when he knew that they spoke always contemptuously of other poor men as good as he? His head had been so turned by the flattery that he had imagined it was on account of his sterling qualities.

He viewed it through the glass of cold reason now and the truth dawned on him, burst forth so clearly that he wondered why he had not seen it before. He remembered how one of the men who disliked dogs had paid five hundred dollars for the prize winner at the Minneapolis show and he shivered as he realized the truth. He was the prize dog in the under-class boxing match. The humiliation of the truth, and he knew now that it was the truth, angered him beyond reason at first, and then filled him with disgust at his own weakness.

And how about the responsible companions he had been priding himself on a short time before? He knew that Johnson had judged them aright and he knew his father’s judgment would be the same. Moreover, he recognized in that little yellow envelope the first symptoms of another obstacle that, unless quickly overcome, would put that magnificent chance at a forest estate far beyond his reach.

He realized then the true loyalty of Johnson. He knew how it must have pained Johnson to say what he had said, and how it must have hurt him to have his friendship misconstrued. What one of those millionaires would have done as much for him, the prize pup, or would even have thought twice whether he was disgracing himself or not? He thought how his admiration for Johnson had been slowly dying under the new influences, and remorse almost choked him. He strode quickly over to the bed to apologize, but Johnson slept so peacefully that he did not have the heart to wake him after the pain he had already caused him.

He took up his notebook resolutely and began to study. At five o’clock he slipped quietly into bed encouraged by the feeling that he was once more well prepared for an examination. But sleep did not come at once. He lay for almost an hour wide awake and wondering how he could ever have been so foolish as to let a little flattery run away so completely with his common sense. More especially he longed to apologize to Johnson. Dear old Johnson whom he had so shamefully neglected for the past month. Not only had he neglected him, but had actually begun to look down on him. He saw him in his true proportions again now and longed to tell him how much he looked up to him. Scott was no cad and he was anxious to confess to Johnson the extent of his fall. At last he fell into a restless sleep. Only after an hour of this tossing about did the sleep become profound.

When Scott finally awoke with a start it was to find Johnson gone. He had just time to make his examination if he went without breakfast. He tumbled into his clothes and ran all the way to the recitation hall. He went at his examination in dendrology with his oldtime certainty, and repaired straight to the Students’ Work Committee. He found that he was not by any means alone in his disgrace. The room was crowded, some contrite, some indifferent, some defiant. Case after case was discussed in the chairman’s office and disposed of. At last his own turn came. The chairman looked at him inquiringly.

“Burton,” Scott answered to the implied inquiry and turned red to the very ears.

The chairman picked a card from the case in front of him, glanced over it and looked him in the eye searchingly. “Well, Burton, your record shows that you are behind in dendrology, forest entomology and forest engineering. What’s the matter?”

Scott blushed violently, but confessed frankly. “I lost my head and tried to do too much society. I neglected my studies. I think I have waked up now.”

“A wholesome confession is good for the soul,” the chairman laughed. “Report to me one week from today and remember, if you are below in a single study at the end of another six weeks, you’ll probably have to drop all that extra work and maybe some more besides.”

The chairman rang for the next victim, and Scott blushed his way out through the crowd. He felt tremendously relieved. He knew that he could make good in that work and registered a vow that that committee would never have to call him up again.

This trying ordeal over he hurried back to the room to find Johnson. The room had a rather desolate look and Scott was wondering what was the matter with it when he spied a note on the table. He read it half dazed.

It was Johnson’s one great short-coming, lack of tact, and Scott’s longing for forgiveness turned once more to anger. He was blinded to the kindness which had prompted Johnson to warn him and forgot the insults with which he had received it. He could see in it now only an impertinent interference in his private affairs and railed against Johnson as a mucker who would not accept an apology even when he did not deserve it. He forgot that Johnson knew nothing of his change of heart, and felt bitter against him. All thought of apology had vanished.

He was still in this frame of mind when Greenleaf came into the room.

“Hello, Scotty,” he said, “I met Johnson moving his belongings a while ago. Said you and he had a falling out. They have sold the house where I am rooming and are going to turn me out. Do you want a roommate?”

“Sure,” Scott said promptly, “I’ll help you move in now.”

So the door was closed to Johnson’s return. The new arrangement gave Scott little chance to think it over. Had he thought the matter over calmly he would probably have sought Johnson out and apologized to him at any cost to his own pride, but he did not let himself think about it and harbored his unjust bitterness.

Greenleaf was a different type from Johnson. His father was a well-to-do lawyer who could very readily have allowed his son ample spending money and would have done so in the East, but preferred to follow the Western custom and make the boy earn his pocket money. Consequently Greenleaf, although blessed with a comfortable—even a luxurious—home had spent most of his summers working at any kind of a job that he could get. He made a very congenial roommate, but Scott missed in him the breadth of mind and keen reasoning powers which he had admired so much in Johnson.