to pass him. But Doctor Gilman's five completely knocked out
the required average of fifty, and young Peter was "found"
and could not graduate. It was an awful business! The only
son of the only Hallowell refused a degree in his father's
own private college--the son of the man who had built the
Hallowell Memorial, the new Laboratory, the Anna Hallowell
Chapel, the Hallowell Dormitory, and the Hallowell Athletic
Field. When on the bulletin board of the dim hall of the
Memorial to his departed grandfather Peter read of his own
disgrace and downfall, the light the stained-glass window
cast upon his nose was of no sicklier a green than was the
nose itself. Not that Peter wanted an A.M. or an A.B., not
that he desired laurels he had not won, but because the young
man was afraid of his father. And he had cause to be. Father
arrived at Stillwater the next morning. The interviews that
followed made Stillwater history.

"My son is not an ass!" is what Hallowell senior is said to
have said to Doctor Black. "And if in four years you and your
faculty cannot give him the rudiments of an education, I will
send him to a college that can. And I'll send my money where
I send Peter."

In reply Chancellor Black could have said that it was the
fault of the son and not of the college; he could have said
that where three men had failed to graduate one hundred and
eighty had not. But did he say that? Oh, no, he did not say
that! He was not that sort of, a college president. Instead,
he remained calm and sympathetic, and like a conspirator in a
comic opera glanced apprehensively round his, study. He