lecture hall where the minute-men had barracked, all of these things, in
the end, appealed strongly to Vandover's imagination. Instead of passing
the summer months in an ocean voyage and a continental journey, he at
last became content to settle down to work under a tutor, "boning up"
for the examinations. His father returned to San Francisco in July.

Vandover matriculated the September of the same year; on the first of
October he signed the college rolls and became a Harvard freshman. At
that time he was eighteen years old.




Chapter Two


There was little of the stubborn or unyielding about Vandover, his
personality was not strong, his nature pliable and he rearranged himself
to suit his new environment at Harvard very rapidly. Before the end of
the first semester he had become to all outward appearances a typical
Harvardian. He wore corduroy vests and a gray felt hat, the brim turned
down over his eyes. He smoked a pipe and bought himself a brindled
bull-terrier. He cut his lectures as often as he dared, "ragged" signs
and barber-poles, and was in continual evidence about Foster's and among
Leavitt and Pierce's billiard-tables. When the great football games came
off he worked himself into a frenzy of excitement over them and even
tried to make several of his class teams, though without success.

He chummed with Charlie Geary and with young Dolliver Haight, the two
San Francisco boys. The three were continually together. They took the