“That pretended Mr. Andrew Jackson is, of course, Arnold Musgrove. And you are the baby he turned over to Sam Smalling years ago. This picture is what will clinch matters, if he puts up any denial. As to just who you are, I have strong suspicions, I must say,” returned Frank. Then he wrote something on paper and thrust it before Ralph. “How would you like to start out fresh under that name, eh?” “Jack Langworthy!” read Ralph, and then threw himself suddenly forward so that his arms clasped Frank around the neck. Nature had given way. So long had he been fighting to hold in his emotions that he could control himself no longer. “I know I’m a fool and a baby to do this, but it just seemed as though something broke loose and swamped me,” he said, finally, as he wiped the moisture from his eyes, and tried to smile in Frank’s face. “I don’t blame you a bit. In fact, I think you’ve done bully to hold in so long. And then the strain of that game to-day was enough alone to knock the props out from under any fellow. But cheer up, Ralph! It’s going to be all right now, for the sky has brightened, and I bet a cookey you find a loving mother inside another month. Just think of it, will you? Hurrah! But I say, it’ll take an everlasting long time to learn to say Langworthy instead of West; for it’s a big mouthful.” Ralph felt better after that. “I’ll be around to-morrow without fail to talk it all over with your uncle. Please don’t let him know anything about it until I come. I’d like to be the one to tell him the story, Frank.” “I’m mum on that score. But I wonder if those sophs succeeded in stealing the spread of the freshmen, or were they kept out of the barn by main force? You’ve got some husky chaps in your class this year, and they could give a good account of themselves in a scrap. But Helen will tell me later,” laughed Frank, as his comrade started for the door. Ralph was really quite exhausted, and knew that he must get home and to bed. The tremendous strain of that strenuous day was indeed telling on him. It was well on to midnight before voices outside announced that the freshmen had returned from the country. Helen came in, her face aglow with excitement, to tell what a tremendous scuffle had followed the attempt of the sophomores to break in and spoil the spread. “But our boys put them out all right, Frank! Oh, it was a tremendous time. Perhaps some of us girls were in the scrimmage, too, for I know I found this cap in my hand when it was all over,” and she laughingly held up a boy’s headgear, decorated with the ribbon of the second class, as well as the purple and gold of Columbia. And that was all Frank could coax her to tell. He could look back to several similar experiences in his own school life, and appreciate what it meant to these freshmen, for Frank was a junior now.