It was his first thought in the morning, his last at night. He could never escape from it. Whenever he was in jubilant mood and in a flood of boyish happiness had forgotten it, it arose like a specter to torment him. What was he going to do with that money that he had kept so long? And what was he going to say to his classmates to earn it,--for earn it he must, since he had accepted it. It was a wretched position to be in. Why hadn't he given the bill back to the great man that day in the office? Or if he had no opportunity then, why hadn't he carried it promptly to the _Echo_ building the next morning? He might have gone to Mr. Carter's house with it. There were a score of ways it might have been delivered to its rightful owner. Alas, he had been very weak, and by drifting along and taking no positive action had got himself into the dilemma in which he now floundered. It was the president of 1921 who suddenly brought him up with a sharp turn by remarking one day: "Well, Kip, you people of 1920 have certainly set us a pretty pace on the _March Hare_. I don't know whether, when it descends to us, we shall be able to keep it up to your standard or not." "Descends to you!" repeated Paul vaguely. "Yes. Of course 1920 is going to pass it on. You fellows can't very well take it with you," laughed the junior. Paul evaded a direct answer. "You never can tell which way a hare will run," he replied. "You can usually figure on the direction he will take, though," retorted the under-classman, whose name was Converse. "1920 has done the school a big service by founding the paper and outlining its policy. My father was saying only last night that the magazine was well worth putting on a permanent business basis. He said that if an experienced publishing house had the handling of it it could be made into a money-making proposition--that is if everybody, young and old, would keep up their same enthusiasm for turning in stuff so the tone of the thing was not spoiled." "I believe that, too." "It wouldn't be such a bad idea if next year we could get in an experienced hand to help us, would it?" The moment Paul dreaded had come. He summoned all his dignity. "I am not sure," he answered, "just what 1920 will decide to do with the paper when we finish the year. We may sell it." "What! You don't mean sell it to an outsider?" "We have an opportunity to do so." "But--but--how could you? It's the property of the school, isn't it?" stammered Converse. "No, not as I see it. A few of us 1920 fellows started it and have done all the work, or the bulk of it. If we choose to sell it, I don't see why we haven't a right to." "But--Great hat, Kip! You certainly wouldn't do that!" protested the junior. "Why not?" "Because--well--it would be so darn yellow," burst out the other boy. "Even if the thing is yours--why--," he broke off helplessly. "And anyway, how could you? Any number of people are interested in it." "They could keep on being interested in it."