Norrie's eyes were shining and her cheeks were pink as peach blossoms. To Vic she seemed exquisitely beautiful. “But now?” somebody queried. “Oh, now, she'll be sensible, and the Professor will take advantage of 'now.' He won't wait till it's too late. Great hat! there goes the bell.” And the girls scuttled away. Vic came in and sat down by the window through which one may find an empire for the looking. “Burgess was right,” he said to himself. “I'm not only ill-bred on the outside, I'm that way clear through. A disreputable eavesdropper! That's my size. But I didn't mean it. Fine excuse!” He frowned in disgust, and turned to the window. The Thanksgiving weather was still blessing the Walnut Valley. Wide away beyond Lagonda Ledge rolled the free open prairies, swept by the free air of heaven under a beneficent sky. As Vic gazed his stern face softened, and the bulldog look, that he had worn since the night of the storm, relaxed before some gentler mood. The brown eyes held a strange glow under the long black lashes, as if a new purpose were growing up in the soul behind them. “No limit out there. It's a FREE LAND,” he murmured. “There shall be no limit in here.” Unconsciously he struck his breast with his fist. “There's freedom for such as I am somewhere.” “Hello, Burleigh, what can I do for you?” As Dr. Fenneben came into the study he recalled how awkwardly the same boy had filled the same chair only a few months before. “I've come in to be sentenced,” Vic replied. “Well, plead your case first.” If ever a father-heart beat in a bachelor's breast, Lloyd Fenneben had such a heart. “I want to settle about Thanksgiving Day,” Vic said. “I had a moral right to play on the team in that game, but I had to get the legal right by force. Professor Burgess refused to permit me to play until I MADE him do it.” Fenneben's eyes were smiling. “Why didn't you knock him down and fight it out with him?” “Because he's not in my class. When I fight I fight men. And, besides, I was in a hurry. If I'm expected to apologize to Professor Burgess or be expelled, I want to know it,” Vic added, hotly. He knew he would not apologize, and he wanted the sentence of expulsion to come quickly if it must come. “We never expel boys from Sunrise. They have done it themselves sometimes. Nor do we ever exact an apology. They offer it themselves sometimes. In either case, the choice lies with the boy.” “What do you do with a fellow like me?” Vic looked curiously at the Dean. “If a boy of your build wants to meet only men when he fights, we take it he is something of a man himself, and therefore worth too much for Sunrise to lose.” Oh! blessed power of the college man to lead the half-tamed boy into the stronger places of life; nor shove him to the dangerous ground where his feet must sink in the quicksand or the mire! Vic sat looking thoughtfully at the man before him.