“Perhaps a fellow’s father and mother don’t look at it that way.”

“Are you having trouble with Splinter?” demanded the senior sharply.

“A little.  Yes, a good deal.  I detest the fellow!” said Will bitterly.

“No wonder you lost the hundred,” responded Wagner with a smile.  “Do you know, Phelps, I had the same experience you’re having with him when I was a freshman.”

“What did you do?”

“Do?  There’s only one thing to do and that is to do his work.  But I advise you to go down to his house and see him and talk it over.”

“He won’t want to see me.”

“Yes, he will.  He’s not half so bad as you think.  Try it; I did.”

“He’ll think I’m trying to boot-lick.”

“No, he won’t.  You can run if you have to, can’t you?” demanded Wagner.  “You’ve got a good stride, and, like trying for the track team, you’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

CHAPTER XIV

THE ADVICE FOLLOWED

For a time after the departure of Wagner, Will Phelps sat thinking over the stirring words of his visitor.  His feeling of positive discouragement, with the natural rebound of his impulsive temperament, had in a measure given place to one of confidence and even of elation.  To be recognized by the great captain was an honor of itself, but to receive a personal visit from him and a warm invitation to try for a place on the track team was a distinction for which he never had even dared to dream.  Even his other pressing problem—­his work in Greek—­appeared slightly more rosy-hued now, and a sudden determination seized upon him to do as Wagner had suggested and see Splinter that very night.

Accordingly, soon after dinner—­the meal at his fraternity house which he had dreaded in view of the semi-defeat of the afternoon—­he started toward the home of his professor of Greek, resolved to talk over the entire situation with him and strive to learn exactly where he stood and what his prospects were likely to be.

As he approached the walk that led from the street back to the professor’s home he came face to face with Mott and Peter John Schenck.  His surprise at meeting them was not greater than that he should find them together, and the fact to his mind boded little good for his classmate.

“Going in to see Splinter?” inquired Mott.

“Yes.”

“Better not.”

“Why?”

“Boot-licking isn’t in very high favor here at Winthrop.”

Will was glad that the darkness concealed the flush which he knew crept over his face, but his voice was steady as he replied:  “That’s all right, Mott.  I’m not going in to see Splinter because I want to, you may let your heart rest easy as to that.”

“How long are you going to be in the house?”

“I’m afraid that will not be for me to decide.  If I have my way, it won’t be long.”