In an instant Carl was on his feet, his flashing eyes dimmed by tears.
"My old man was the best scout that ever lived--the best damned old
scout that ever lived." His sophistication was all gone; he was just a
small boy, heartily ashamed of himself and ready to cry. "I want you to
know that," he ended defiantly.

At once Hugh was all sympathy. "Sure, I know," he said softly. Then he
smiled and added, "So's mine."

Carl's face lost its lugubriousness in a broad grin. "I'm a fish," he
announced. "Let's hit the hay."

"You said it!"




CHAPTER II


Hugh wrote two letters before he went to bed, one to his mother and
father and the other to Helen Simpson. His letter to Helen was very
brief, merely a request for her photograph.

Then, his mind in a whirl of excitement, he went to bed and lay awake
dreaming, thinking of Carl, the college, and, most of all, of Helen and
his walk with her the day before.

He had called on her to say good-by. They had been "going together" for
a year, and she was generally considered his girl. She was a pretty