The other demanded to know what he could do, and the girl was not backward in suggestions. Why not start a student paper, a little four-page sheet, once a week or even once a month? It would cost very little, and would make a hit, they could be sure; look how many people had wanted to read Mr. Ross’s letter about Siberia! If they printed that letter they would set the campus on fire. Mr. George could have the honor of being editor, and Rachel would contribute her share of the cost. There was obvious irony in that, considering the quantity of iron pipe which Billy’s father was known to be marketing in Angel City. But they discussed it gravely, and Billy didn’t think he could take any responsibility; his old man would pull him out of college, and put him to work on a bookkeeper’s stool. Then, automatically, the eyes of the group turned to Bunny. What did he think? Bunny found his cheeks growing red. He had wanted to explain his ideas to other people, but had thought of doing it in some dignified way, privately and quietly. A paper would make such a noise! Rachel Menzies apparently didn’t mind a noise, but Henrietta would, she would be horrified by the bare idea. Also there was Dad—the “education business” would be damned forever by such a venture. So Bunny had to say no; and Rachel Menzies said that was all right, there were plenty of excuses, and she didn’t blame anybody for finding the best one, but at least they had no business criticizing Mr. Irving for lack of courage! III Soon after that Bunny read in the paper that the transport “Bennington” had arrived in San Francisco with two thousand troops from Siberia. Paul’s unit was listed; so Bunny called up Ruth on the telephone and told her the news, and said, be sure to let him know as soon as she got word. Two days later Ruth called him—Paul had arrived at Paradise. It was a Friday, so Bunny “cut” his afternoon courses, and jumped into his car. Dad had gone over to Lobos River, to see to a “fishing” job, and so missed this first meeting. It was almost twenty months that Paul had been away, and Bunny was keyed up with eagerness. The first glance gave him a shock, for Paul looked quite terrible—gaunt and yellow, his khaki jacket hanging loose upon him. “You’ve been sick!” cried Bunny. “Yes,” said Paul; “but I’m getting all right now.” “Paul, tell me what happened!” “Well, it was no picnic.” And he seemed to think that would satisfy both his sister and his friend—after a year and a half! They were over in the cabin on the Rascum tract, where Ruth and Paul had first begun house-keeping. It was supper-time, and the girl had prepared a bounteous repast; but Paul wasn’t much on eating just now, he said—afraid to trust himself with good food. While they sat at table he told them about Manila, where they had stopped; and about a storm on the Pacific; but not a word about Siberia!