had said, he had done nothing in particular. His marks were good,
he was a fair athlete; good at rowing, good at track work; he had
"heeled" the News for a year, but had not made the board. A gift of
music, which bubbled without effort, had put him on the Glee Club.
Yet that had come to him; it was not a thing he had done; boys
are critical of such distinctions. It is said that Skull and Bones
aims at setting its seal above all else on character. This boy had
sailed buoyantly from term to term delighted with the honors which
came to his friends, friends with the men who carried off honors,
with the best and strongest men in his class, yet never quite
arriving for himself. As the bright, anxious young face looked up
at the window where the women sat, the older one thought she could
read the future in it, and she sighed. It was a face which
attracted, broad-browed, clear-eyed, and honest, but not a strong
face--yet. John McLean had only made beginnings; he had accomplished
nothing. Mrs. Anderson, out of an older experience, sighed, because
she had seen just such winning, lovable boys before, and had seen
them grow into saddened, unsuccessful men. Yet he was full of
possibility; the girl was hoping against hope that Brant and the
fourteen other seniors of Skull and Bones would see it so and take
him on that promise. She was not pretending to herself that anything
but Johnny McLean's fate in it was the point of this Tap Day to her.
She was very young, only twenty also, but there was a maturity in
her to which the boy made an appeal. She felt a strength which
others missed; she wanted him to find it; she wanted passionately
to see him take his place where she felt he belonged, with the men
who counted.

The play was in full action. Grave and responsible seniors worked
swiftly here and there through the tight mass, searching each one