Commencement over, for the first time in many years the chums went their
separate ways, Marty to his circuit, and J.W. home to Delafield. Then
for a little while each had frequent dark-blue days, without quite
realizing what made his world so flavorless. But that passed, and the
young preacher settled down to his preaching, and the young merchant to
his merchandising; and soon all things seemed as if they had been just
so through the years.

To J.W. came just one indication of the change that college had made.
Pastor Drury, though he found it wise to do much of his important work
in secret, thought to make use of the college-consciousness which most
towns possess in June, and which is felt especially, though not
confessed, by the college colony. The year's diplomas are still very new
in June. So a college night was announced for the social rooms, with a
college sermon to follow on the next Sunday night. The League and the
Senior Sunday School Department united to send a personal invitation to
every college graduate in town, and to every student home for the
vacation. They responded, four score of them, to the college-night call.

As J.W. moved about and greeted people he had known for years he began
to realize that college has its own freemasonry. These other graduates
were from all sorts of schools; two had been to Harvard, and one to
Princeton; several were State University alumni. Cartwright was
represented by nine, six of them undergraduates, and the others
confessed themselves as being from Chicago, Syracuse, De Pauw, three or
four sorts of "Wesleyan," Northwestern, Knox, Wabash, Western Reserve,
and many more.

Not even all Methodist, by any means, J.W. perceived; and yet the
fellowship among these strangers was very real. They spoke each other's