It was not Ignace’s mischief-making, however, that finally got him into serious trouble with the officials of the school. It was his skill as a trombone player. During the boy’s second year as a student, Director Kontski decided to rouse up some publicity for the Conservatory by founding a student orchestra to play at local functions. As the school’s finest trombone player, Ignace was naturally drafted into the brass section as first trombone. Final exams were looming ahead. The nearer they came, the more the boy resented the considerable time he had to spend blowing his trombone at rehearsals when he preferred to be studying the complexities of harmony and counterpoint. One day he flatly refused to attend the day’s rehearsal. The outraged director called him into the office and delivered a lecture on student discipline. Ignace countered with some ideas of his own on the useless, time-wasting aspects of the student orchestra. One word led to another, as one word unfortunately does at tense moments. Before he knew exactly what had happened, Master Ignace Paderewski had been expelled from the Warsaw Conservatory. Fortunately for Ignace, he had friends among the faculty members. They raised such a fuss in his behalf that the Director was forced to change his mind. The boy was taken back in time to pass his examinations. A less hot-headed fellow than the red-headed “Squirrel” might have learned a lesson from this extremely close call. But Ignace did not have the sense to stay out of trouble. The next year the orchestra question flared again. Seven students drew up a letter of protest which appeared over their signatures in the newspaper. The seven students were promptly expelled for one year, Ignace among them. This time no amount of influence helped. Only the loyal support of Edward Kerntopf enabled Ignace to stay on in Warsaw and work at the piano as best he could by himself. And by giving piano lessons to the young children of Kerntopf customers he earned the princely sum of twelve cents an hour. By the end of the school year he was getting a little bored with this routine and yearned to launch his concert career. So did his best friend, a seventeen-year-old violin student who was also named Ignace. “Why wait around until we’re too old to enjoy success?” the seventeen-year-old asked the fifteen-year-old. “Now look, Squirrel. We’re wasting our time! The summer vacation is coming. What do people do in summer? They go to summer resorts. And they need entertainment there, don’t they? Let’s go on tour and present a violin and piano recital. You have enough Liszt and Chopin pieces ready for your half of the program. What do you say?” “Well—uh—” “Good! Then it’s all settled. We’ll tour as far as Russia. That’s it! We’ll go all the way to St. Petersburg, leaving a trail of triumph behind us!” Ignace’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! We’ll conquer Russia. We’ll show them what a couple of _Polish_ musicians can do!”