XLI

Jason Hawn's last examination was over, and he stepped into the
first June sunlight and drew it into his lungs with deep relief.
Looking upward from the pavement below, the old president saw his
confident face.

"It seems you are not at all uneasy," he said, and his keen old
eyes smiled humorously.

Jason reddened a little.

"No, sir--I'm not."

"Nor am I," said the old gentleman, "nor will you forget that this
little end is only the big beginning."

"Thank you, sir."

"You are going back home? You will be needed there."

"Yes, sir."

"Good!"

It was the longest talk Jason had ever had with the man he all but
worshipped, and while it was going on the old scholar was
painfully climbing the steps--so that the last word was flung back
with the sharp, soldier-like quality of a command given by an
officer who turned his back with perfect trust that it would be