Howard Letchworth settled himself comfortably by an open window in the 5.12 express and spread out the evening paper, turning, like any true college man, first to the sporting page. He was anxious to know how his team had come out in the season’s greatest contest with another larger college. He had hoped to be there to witness the game himself, and in fact the Clouds had invited him to go with them in their car, but unfortunately at the last minute a telegram came from a firm with whom he expected to be located during the summer, saying that their representative would be in the city that afternoon and would like to see him. Howard had been obliged to give up the day’s pleasure and see his friends start off without him. Now, his business over, he was returning to college and having his first minute of leisure to see how the game came out.

The train was crowded, for it was just at closing time and every one was in a rush to get home. Engrossed in his paper, he noticed none of them until someone dropped, or rather sprawled, in the seat beside him, taking far more room than was really necessary, and making a lot of fuss pulling up his trousers and getting his patent leather feet adjusted to suit him around a very handsome sole-leather suitcase which he crowded unceremoniously over to Howard’s side of the floor.

The intruder next addressed himself to the arrangement of a rich and striking necktie, and seemed to have 295 no compunctions about annoying his neighbor during the process. Howard glanced up in surprise as a more strenuous knock than before jarred his paper out of focus. He saw a young fellow of about his own age with a face that would have been strikingly handsome if it had not also been bold and conceited. He had large dark eyes set off by long curling black lashes, black hair that crinkled close to his head in satiny sleek sheen, well-chiselled features, all save a loose-hung, insolent lip that gave the impression of great self-indulgence and selfishness. He was dressed with a careful regard to the fashion and with evidently no regard whatever for cost. He bore the mark at once of wealth and snobbishness. Howard, in spite of his newly-acquired desire to look upon all men as brothers, found himself disliking him with a vehemence that was out of all proportion to the occasion.

“Don’t they have any pahlah cars on this road?”

The question was addressed to him in a calm, insolent tone as if he were a paid servitor of the road. He looked up amusedly and eyed the stranger pitingly:

“Not so as you’d notice it,” he remarked crushingly as he turned back to his paper. “People on this road too busy to use ’em.”

But the stranger did not crush easily:

“Live far out?” he asked, turning his big, bold eyes on his seatmate and calmly examining him from the toe of a well-worn shoe to the crown of a dusty old hat that Howard was trying to make last till the end of the season. When he had finished the survey his eyes travelled complacently back to his own immaculate attire, and his well-polished shoes fresh from the hands of the city station bootblack. With a well-manicured 296 thumb and finger he flecked an imaginary bit of dust from the knee of his trousers.

Howard named the college town brusquely.

“Ah, indeed!” Another survey brief and significant this time. “I don’t suppose you know any people at the college.” It was scarcely a question, more like a statement of a deplorable fact. Howard was suddenly amused.

“Oh, a few,” he said briefly. (He was just finishing his senior year rather brilliantly and his professors were more than proud of him.)

Another glance seemed to say: “In what capacity?” but the elegant youth finally decided to voice another question:

“Don’t happen to know a fellah by the name of Cloud, I suppose? Al Cloud?”

“I’ve met him,” said Howard with his eyes still on his paper.

“He’s from my State!” announced the youth with a puff of importance. “We live next door in California. He’s a regular guy, he is. Got all kinds of money coming to him. He’ll be of age in a month or two now, and then you’ll see him start something! He’s some spender, he is.”

Howard made no comment, but something in him revolted at the idea of talking over his friend in such company.

“I’ve got to hunt him up,” went on the young man, not noticing that his auditor appeared uninterested. “I’m to stay with him to-night. I was to send a telegram, but didn’t think of it till it was almost train time. Guess it won’t make much difference. The Clouds always used to keep open house. I suppose they have a swell place out here?”

“Oh, it’s quite comfortable, I believe,” Howard turned over a page of the paper and fell to reading an article on the high price of sugar and the prospect of a fall.

“You ought to see their dump out in Cally. It’s some mansion, believe me! There wasn’t anything else in that part of the State to compare with it for miles around. And cahs! They had cahs to burn! The old man was just lousy with gold, you know; struck a rich mine years ago. His wife had a pile, too. Her father was all kinds of a millionaire and left every bit to her; and Al and his sister’ll get everything. Seen anything of her? She ought to be a winner pretty soon. She was a peach when she was little. She’s some speedy kid! We used to play together, you know, and our folks sorta fixed it up we were just made for each other and all that sorta thing, you know––but I don’t know––I’m not going to be bound by any such nonsense, of course, unless I like. One doesn’t want one’s wife to be such an awfully good shot, fer instance, you know–––!”

A great anger surged up in Howard’s soul, and his jaw set with a fierce line that those who knew him well had learned to understand meant self-control under deep provocation. He would have liked nothing better than to surprise the insolent young snob with a well-directed blow in his pretty face that would have sent him sprawling in the aisle. His hands fairly twitched to give him the lesson that he needed, but he only replied with a slight inscrutable smile in one corner of his mouth:

“It might be inconvenient for some people.” There an aloofness in his tone that did not encourage 298 further remarks, but the young stranger was evidently not thin-skinned, or else he loved to hear himself babbling.

“I’m coming on heah, you know, to look this college ovah–––!” he drawled. “If it suits me, I may come heah next yeah. Got fired from three institutions out West for larking, and father thought I better go East awhile. Any fun doing out this way?”

“I suppose those that go to college looking for it can find it,” answered Howard noncommittally.

“Well––that’s what I’m looking for. That’s about all anybody goes to college for anyway, that and making a lot of friends. Believe me, it would be a beastly bore if it wasn’t for that. Al Cloud used to be a lively one. I’ll wager he’s into everything. See much of the college people down in town––do you?” He eyed his companion patronizingly. “S’pose you get in on some of the spoahts now and then?”

“Oh, occasionally,” said Howard with a twinkle in his eye. He was captain of the football team and forward in basket-ball, but it didn’t seem to be necessary to mention it.

“Any fellows with any pep in them out here? I suppose there must be or Al wouldn’t stay unless he’s changed. He used to keep things pretty lively. That’s one reason why I told dad I’d come out here. I like a place with plenty of ginger. It gets my goat to be among a lot of grinds and sissies! This is a co-ed college, isn’t it? That suits me all right if the girls have any pep and aren’t too straitlaced. Any place around here where you can go off and take a girl for a good dinner and a dash of life? I couldn’t stand for any good-little-boy stuff. Know any place around 299 here where you can get a drink of the real thing now and then, some place near enough to go joy-riding to, you know? I shall bring my cah of course–––! One can get away with a lot more stuff if they have their own cah, you know––especially where there’s girls. You can’t pull off any devilment if you have to depend on hired cahs. You might get caught. I suppose they have some pretty spicy times down at the frat rooms, don’t they? I understood the frats were mostly located down in the town.”

Howard suddenly folded his paper, looking squarely in the limpid eyes of his seatmate for the first time, with a cold, searching, subduing gaze.

“I really couldn’t say,” he answered coldly.

“Oh, I s’pose you’re not interested in that sort of thing, not being in college,” said the other insolently. “But Al Cloud’ll put me wise. He’s no grind, I’ll wager. He’s always in for a good time, and he’s such a good bluff he never gets found out. Now I, somehow, always get caught, even when I’m not the guilty one.”

The boy laughed unroariously as if it were a good joke, and his weak chin seemed to grow weaker in the process.

Howard was growing angry and haughty, but it was his way to be calm when excited. He did not laugh with the stranger. Instead, he waited until the joke had lost its amusement and then he turned soberly to the youth with as patronizing an air as ever the other had worn:

“Son, you’ve got another guess coming to you about Allison Cloud. You’ll have the surprise of your young life when you see him, I imagine. Why, he’s been an A student ever since he came to this college, 300 and he has the highest average this last semester of any man in his class. As for bluff, he’s as clear as crystal, and a prince of a fellow; and if you’re looking for a spot where you can bluff your way through college you better seek elsewhere. Bluff doesn’t go down in our college. We have student government, and I happen to be chairman of the student exec. just now. You better change your tactics if you expect to remain here. Excuse me, I see a friend up at the front of the car!”

With which remarks Howard Letchworth strode across the sprawling legs of his fellow-traveller and departed up the aisle, leaving the elegant stranger to enjoy the whole seat and his own company.

Thus did Clive Terrence introduce himself to Howard Letchworth and bring dismay into the little clique of four young people who had been enjoying a most unusually perfect friendship. Howard Letchworth, as he stood the rest of the ride on the front platform of the car conversing with apparent interest with a fraternity brother, was nevertheless filled with a growing dismay. Now and then he glanced back and glared down the aisle at the elegant sprawling youth and wondered how it was that a being as insignificant as that could so upset his equilibrium. But the assured drawl of the stranger as he spoke of Leslie and called her a “speedy kid” had made him boil with rage. He carried the mood back to college with him, and sat gloomily at the table thinking the whole incident over, while the banter and chaffing went on about him unnoticed. Underneath it all there was a deep uneasiness that would not be set aside. The young man had said that the Clouds were very wealthy. That Leslie was especially so. That when she was of age 301 she would have a vast inheritance. There had been no sign of great wealth or ostentation in their living but if that were so then there was an insuperable wall between him and her.

It was strange that the question of wealth had never come up between them. Howard had known that they were comfortably off, of course. They had a beautiful car and wore good clothes, and were always free with their entertaining, but they lived in a modest house, and never made any pretences. It had not occurred to him that they were any better off than he might be some day if he worked hard. They never talked about their circumstances. Of course, now he came to think about it, there were fine mahogany pieces of furniture in the little house and wonderful rugs and things, but they all fitted in so harmoniously with their surroundings that it never occurred to him that they might have cost a mint of money. They never cried out their price to those who saw them, they were simply the fitting thing in the fitting place, doing their service as all right-minded things both animate and inanimate in this world should do. It was the first serpent in the Eden of this wonderful friendship at Cloudy Villa and it stung the proud-spirited young man to the soul.

Alone in his room that night he finally gave up all pretence at study and faced the truth. He had been drifting in a delightful dream during the last two years, with only a vague and alluring idea of the future before him, a future in which there was no question but that Allison Cloud AND his sister Leslie should figure intimately. Now he was suddenly and roughly awakened to ask himself whether he had any right to count on all this. If these young people belonged 302 to the favored few of the world who were rolling in wealth, wasn’t it altogether likely that when they finished college they would pass out of this comradely atmosphere into a world of their own, with a new set of laws whereby to judge and choose their friends and life companions? He could not quite imagine Allison and Leslie as anything but the frank, friendly, enthusiastic comrades they had been since he had known them––and yet––he knew the world, knew what the love of money could do to a human soul, for he had seen it many times before in people he had come to love and trust who had grown selfish and forgetful as soon as money and power were put into their hands. He had to confess that it was possible. Also, his own pride forbade him to wish to force himself into a crowd where he could not hold his own and pay his part. They would simply not be in his class, at least not for many years to come, and his heart sank with desolation. It was then, and not till then, that the heart of the trouble came out and looked him in the face. It was not that he could not be in their class, that he could not keep pace with Allison Cloud and come and go in his company as freely as he had done; it was that he loved the bright-haired Leslie, the sweet-faced, eager, earnest, wonderful girl. She held his future happiness in her little rosy hand, and if she really were a rich girl he couldn’t of course tell her now that he loved her, because he was a poor man. He didn’t expect to stay poor always, of course, but it would be a great many years before he could ever hope to compete with anything like wealth, and during those years who might not take her from him? Was it conceivable that such a cad as that youth who had boasted himself a playmate of her childhood could possibly win her?

Howard went out and sat on the campus under a great shadowing tree. He watched a silver thread of a moon slip down between the branches and dip behind the hill, and while he sat there he went through all the desolation of a lonely life; the bitterness of having Leslie taken from him by one who was unworthy!––He persuaded himself that he loved her enough to be willing to step aside and give her up to a man who was better than himself––but this little whiffet––ugh!

The chimes on the library pealed out nine o’clock, reminding him of his work half done, yet the shadow of engulfing sorrow and loss hung over him. With a jerk he drew himself up and tried to grasp at common sense. How ridiculous of him to get up all this nightmare out of a few minutes’ talk with a fellow who used to be the Clouds’ old neighbor. He might not have been telling the truth. And anyhow it was a libel on friendship to distrust them all this way, as though riches were some kind of a disease like leprosy that set people apart. It wasn’t his night to go down to the village, but just to dispel this nonsense and bring back his normal state of mind he would go and drop in on the Clouds for a few minutes. A sight of them all would reassure him and clear his brain for the work he must do before midnight. Leslie Cloud was very young yet, and much can happen in a year or two. He might even be in a fair way to make a fortune himself somewhere, who knew? And as for that little cad, it was nonsense to suppose he was anything to fear. Besides, it wasn’t time yet to think about being married when he wasn’t even out of college. He would forget it and work the harder. Of course he could never quite go back and forget that he had admitted to himself that he was in love with Leslie, but he would keep 304 it like a precious jewel hid far in his heart, so carefully locked that not even for his own delight would he take it out to look at now at this time.

Having thus resolved, a weight seemed to have rolled from his shoulders and he sprang up and walked with a quick tread down to the village. There was a cheerful clang of victrolas, player-pianos and twanging guitars as he passed the fraternity rooms, and he went whistling on his way toward Cloudy Villa.

But as he neared the tall arched hedge, and looked eagerly for the welcome light, he saw that the big living-room windows were only lit by a soft play of firelight. Did that mean they were all sitting in the firelight around the hearth? A fearful thought of the stranger intruded just here upon his fine resolves, and to dispel it he knocked noisily on the little brass knocker.

It was very still inside, but a quick electric light responded to his knock and in a moment he could hear someone coming down-stairs to the door. His heart leaped. Could it be Leslie? Ah! He must not––yet how wonderful it was going to be to look at her this first time after really knowing his own heart in plain language. Could he keep the joy of her out of his eyes, and the wonder of her from his voice? Then the door opened and there stood Cherry in negligÉe of flaring rosy cotton crÊpe embroidered with gorgeous peacocks, and her pigtails in eclipse behind an arrangement of cheap lace and pink ribbons.

“No, sir, Mister Howard, dey ain’t none ob ’em heah! Dey got cumpney––some young fellah fum back to Californy way. Dey done tuk him out to see de town.”

Howard’s heart sank and he turned his heavy footsteps 305 back to college. The worst fear had come to pass. Of course reason asserted itself, and he told himself that he was a fool, a perfect fool. Of course they had to be polite to an old neighbor whether they liked him or not. And what was he to presume to judge a stranger from a five-minute conversation, and turn him down so completely that he wasn’t willing to have his old friends even like him? Well, he was worse than he had thought himself and something would have to be done about it.

What he did about it was to stay away from Cloudy Villa for almost a week, and when Leslie at last, after repeated efforts to get hold of him by telephone, called him up to say there was an important committee meeting at the church which he ought to attend, he excused his long absence by telling how busy he had been. Of course he had been busy, but Leslie knew that he had always been busy, and yet had found time to come in often. She was inclined to be hurt and just the least bit stand-offish. Of course if he didn’t want to come he needn’t! And she took Clive Terrence driving in the car and showed him all the wonders of the surrounding neighborhood with much more cordiality than she really felt. It was her way of bearing her hurt. At last she got Allison by himself and asked him quite casually why Howard hadn’t been down. But Allison, in haste to keep an appointment with Jane, and knowing that Howard enjoyed being down as much as they wanted him, hadn’t even noticed the absence yet.

“Oh, he’s up to his eyes in work,” responded Allison. “He’s likely busy as a one-armed paper-hanger with fleas! He’s a senior, you know. Wait till next year and you’ll see me in the same boat!” and he hurried away whistling.