Every spot and creature on the farm were known to Walter. He had tramped in the woods, fished in the brooks, ridden the horses, driven the cows from the pasture to the barns――in fact, in former years the only moments when he had not been busy had been those when his tired little body was asleep. The collie and the horse which had been given him brought Walter’s life a little more closely into touch with animate things, but his chief interest aside from his grandfather’s place was in Dan Richards, who lived with his widowed mother and his brother Tom――a year and a half older than Dan――on the little farm adjoining. Dan’s skill in making whistles of the willows, his unusual strength, his quiet bearing had appealed strongly to Walter in other days. Even now, when both were older and Dan’s lack of money was as marked as was Walter’s freedom in its use and disregard of its true value, there was a similar feeling of regard in Walter’s heart. The dark eyes, the tall form, the quiet unassuming ways of Dan were still almost as strong in their appeal to Walter as were the undoubted possession of physical strength and skill which were Dan’s. The quiet manner in which Dan had accepted his friend’s offer to pay him for rowing on the pond had deceived Walter completely. His blue eyes, his light-brown hair, his well-knit muscular body――“stocky” Dan called him, were not in sharper contrast to Dan’s physical characteristics than were their differences in mind and temper. The offer to “employ” his old friend had meant little to Walter. How much of an effort it had been for Dan to accept he never for a moment even suspected. Even his expression of surprise when he looked up hastily, as Dan explained how he hoped to invest his earnings, did not have in it one glance of understanding. Dan and the little “Rockland Farm,” which, with the best of care, provided only a scanty living for its owners, were almost inseparable in Walter’s mind. That Dan had ambitions beyond the limits of his farm or even beyond the little village of Rodman had not once occurred to Walter. “School, Dan?” he exclaimed in surprise as he looked at his companion. “Yes,” replied Dan quietly, without glancing at the fisherman. “What put that into your head?” “Haven’t you ever heard of a fellow wanting to get an education?” “Why yes, of course,” said Walter, “but I hadn’t thought――――” “Of me in that connection?” suggested Dan as his friend hesitated. “I don’t know why I shouldn’t think of it,” said Walter hastily. “But the fact is you hadn’t?” “Yes, I suppose so. What are your plans?” “I don’t know that I have any very definite ‘plans,’ as you call them. Last year there was a young fellow from college that taught our school. I guess he put it into my head. He seemed to be interested, and gave me some lessons every night after I had finished my chores.” “In what?” “Oh, in algebra and Latin.” “And you have been working on them?”