He learned a great deal about the ways of birds while he was in the woods, and back at school he persuaded Blackie to help organize The Naturalists Club, despite the jeers of the athlete idolaters. He took many bird pictures with the camera and he prepared a bird census of the township. This was published in the school magazine, and so Junior decided that when he got through college he would be a writer. He had not seen his father for two years. South America this time--in the Andes. The canoe trip was no longer mentioned. Junior went to the school camp regularly now. He was acknowledged the best all-round camper in school. He won first prize in fly casting and the second in canoeing. He was getting big and strong, and became a good swimmer. He spent his Christmas vacation with Aunt Mary, and while there Mrs. Fielding, the wife of the housemaster, in town for the holidays, dropped in for tea one day with Aunt Mary. They did not know that Junior was in the adjoining room, reading Stewart Edward White. “But it’s criminal the way Phil neglects that darling boy,” said Aunt Mary. “And he’s developing in such a fine way too,” said Mrs. Fielding. “He’s one of the best liked boys in school.” “I can’t understand my brother. Of course he’s terribly engrossed with his career, now that he has won success, but he might at least send a picture post card occasionally.” “You mean to say he never writes to his own son!” Mrs. Fielding was shocked and indignant. And then came this tragic revelation to Junior: “Well, you see,” said Aunt Mary, “Phil never wanted children, and he’s not really interested in the boy.” “You don’t tell me so! Why, Aleck always speaks of your brother as if he were so generous and warm-hearted.” “Yes, that’s what makes it so pathetic. He is kind and tries to make up for his lack of affection by giving Junior a larger allowance than is good for him. But he never takes the trouble to send him a Christmas present.” So that explained it all. “He’s not interested in me. I wasn’t wanted.” And after that he had his first experience with a sleepless night. A few days later Junior remarked, “By the way, Aunt Mary, did I show you the binoculars Father sent me for Christmas?” He handed them to her for inspection. They looked secondhand. They were. He had picked them up that morning in a pawnshop. “These are the very ones that Father carried all through the war. He knew I’d like them better than new ones. Just like Father to think of that. You remember his showing them to us when he got back?” Aunt Mary did not remember such things--he knew she wouldn’t--but she rejoiced to hear it. “He has sent me a typewriter too; only he ordered it shipped directly to the school.” “That was nice of him, wasn’t it?” said Aunt Mary. “That’s the way he does with most of the presents he sends me. You remember the camera?” She did remember the camera.