no wise advanced, and soon Will was cherishing a feeling that was something between a hopeless rage and an ungovernable detestation. One break had occurred, however, in that both he and Foster had joined one of the Greek letter fraternities--the Phi Alpha. Both freshmen were now taking their meals at the fraternity house and in the good fellowship and the presence of his fellow-members he found a measure of relief from the homesickness that was troubling him and his difficulties with the detested professor of Greek. It was also a source of some comfort to him to learn that his own feeling for Splinter was one that was commonly held by all the students who had been under him; but though his misery may have loved the company, his problem still remained his own and appeared to be as far from solution as ever. Not long after Will and Foster had joined the Phi Alpha fraternity, Peter John had dropped into their room one evening and quickly discovered the neat little badge or pin that each boy wore on his vest directly over his heart. "Hello!" exclaimed Peter John; "you've joined the Phi Alpha, have you?" "Yes," replied Will quietly, striving then to change the topic of conversation, for the subject was one not to be cheapened by ordinary remarks. "It's about the best in college, isn't it?" persisted Peter John. "That's not for us to say," laughed Will. "I haven't joined any fraternity yet," said Peter John. "My father told me I'd better wait and perhaps he'd come up to Winthrop a little later and then he'd tell me which one to join." Will and Foster glanced at each other, but neither spoke. In fact there was nothing to say. "If you feel sure the Phi Alpha's the best, I might write home to my father and perhaps he'd let me join now," suggested Peter John. "He thinks that whatever you two fellows do is about right." As only about half the students in Winthrop were members of the Greek letter fraternities, and as those who were elected were chosen because of certain elements in their characters or lives that made them specially desirable as companions or comrades, the election was naturally looked upon as an especial honor and many of the entering class had been eagerly awaiting the invitation for which all longed. Peter John Schenck's unique personality and his sublime self-assurance had been qualities, if no other defects had been apparent, that would have debarred him, but he was so sublimely unconscious of all this--"Not even knowing enough to know that he didn't know, the worst form of ignorance in all the world," Foster had half angrily declared--that not for a moment did he dream that his membership was something perhaps undesirable of itself. "I might write home and ask him," suggested Peter John when neither of his classmates responded. "I think I like the Phi Alpha pretty well myself." "I wouldn't do it," said Foster. "How are you making out with Splinter?" he added, striving to change the subject. "Oh, Splinter's all right."