"Because he's got nobody else to look after him," answered Vic.

"How about an orphan asylum?

Vic looked down at the little fellow cuddled against his arm,
and every feature of his stern face softened.

"Will it make any difference about him if I get my lessons, sir? I can't let
Bug go now. We are the limit for each other--neither of us got anybody else.
I take care of him, but he keeps me from getting too coarse and rough.
Every fellow needs something innocent and good about him sometimes."

"Oh, no! Keep him if you want him. But would you mind telling
me about him?"

"I'd rather not now," Burleigh said, quietly, and Lloyd Fenneben knew
when to drop a subject.

"Then I'm through with you for today, Burleigh. I must let
Miss Saxon have my room now. Come here whenever you like,
and bring Bug if you care to."

Sunrise students always left Dr. Fenneben's study with a little more of
self-respect than when they entered it; richer, not so much from the word
as from the spirit of the head of Sunrise. Victor Burleigh with little
Bug Buler's fat fist clasped in his big, hard hand walked out of the college
door that afternoon with the unconscious baptism of the student upon him,
the dim sense of a fellowship with a scholarly master of books and of men.

Back in his study Lloyd Fenneben sat looking out once more at the Empire