"Yonder is one specimen," Fenneben answered, pointing toward the window.

Vincent Burgess, looking out, saw Vic Burleigh leaping up the broad
steps from the level campus, a giant fellow, fully six feet tall.
The swing of strength, void of grace, was in his motion.
His face was gypsy-brown under a crop of sunburned auburn hair.
A stiff new derby hat was set bashfully on a head set unabashed
on broad shoulders. The store-mark of the ready-made
was on his clothing, and it was clear that he was less
accustomed to cut stone steps than to springing prairie sod.
Clearly he was a real product of the soil.

"Why, that is the young bumpkin I came in with this morning.
I thought I was striding alongside an elephant in bulk and wild
horse in speed," Burgess said with a smile.

"You will have a share in taming him, doubtless," Dr. Fenneben replied.
"He looks hardly bridle-wise yet. Enter him among your types.
I didn't get his name this morning, but he interested me at once,
as a fellow of good blood if not of good manners, and I have asked him
to come in here later. Some boys must be met on the very threshold
of a college if they are to run safely along the four years."

"His name is Burleigh, Victor Burleigh. I remember it because it is not
a new name to me. Picture him in a cap and gown at home in a library,
or standing up to receive a Master's Degree from a university!
His kind leave about the middle of the second semester and revert
to the soil, don't they?"

Burgess laughed pleasantly, and leaned forward to get one more look at