“You ought to take advantage of this chance. It's not right to set your opinion up against those that know better.” “And that's what I'm doing, isn't it?” Jeff smiled. “Can't help it. I reckon I can't be saved by my emotions. It's going to be a life job.” James gave him up, but he sent another Senior to make a last attempt. The young man was Thurston Thomas and he had never exchanged six sentences with Jeff in his life. The unrepentant sinner sent him to the right about sharply. “What the devil do you mean by running about officiously and bothering about other people's souls? Better look out for your own.” Thomas, a scion of one of the best families in Verden, looked as if he had been slapped in the face. “Why Farnum, I--I spoke for your good.” “No, you didn't,” contradicted Jeff flatly. “You don't care a hang about me. You've never noticed me before. We're not friends. You've always disliked me. But you want the credit of bringing me into the fold. It's damned impertinent of you.” The Senior retired with a white face. He was furious, but he thought it due himself to turn the other cheek by saying nothing. He reported his version to a circle of friends, and from them it spread like grass seed in the wind. Soon it was generally known that Jeff Farnum had grossly insulted with blasphemy a man who had tried to save his soul. Two days later Miller met Jeff at the door of Frome 15. “You're in bad! Jeff. What the deuce did you do to Sissy Thomas?” “Gave him some good advice.” Miller grinned. “I'll bet you did. The little cad has been poisoning the wells against you. Look there.” A young woman of their class had passed into the room. Her glance had fallen upon Farnum and been quickly averted. “That's the first time Bessie Vroom ever cut you,” Sam continued angrily. “Thomas is responsible. I've heard the story a dozen times already.” “I only told him to mind his own business.” “He can't. He's a born meddler. Now he's queered you with the whole place.” “Can't help it. I wasn't going to let him get away with his impudence. Why should I?” Miller shrugged. “Policy, my boy. Better take the advice of Cousin James and crawl into your shell till the storm has pelted past.” Half an hour later Jeff met his cousin near the chapel and was taken to task. “What's this I hear about your insulting Thomas?” “You have it wrong. He insulted me,” Jeff corrected with a smile. “Tommyrot! Why couldn't you treat him right?” “Didn't like to throw him through the window on account of littering up the lawn with broken glass.” James K.'s handsome square-cut face did not relax to a smile. “You may think this a joke, but I don't. I've heard the Chancellor is going to call you on the carpet.” “If he does he'll learn what I think.” The upper classman's anger boiled over. “You might think of me a little.” “Didn't know you were in this, J. K.” “They know I'm your cousin. It's hurting my reputation.”