Marty had no immediate way of testing this unusual wealth of information, so he said, “Well, maybe there’s something in it.  I’ll talk to Brother Drury about it, anyway.”

That observing man was quite willing to be talked to.  When Marty presented himself at the study a few days later he found the pastor as well prepared as if he had been expecting some such interview, as, indeed, he had.

He told Marty the story of the Student Loan Fund—­how it originated in the celebration of the Centenary of American Methodism, in 1866, and how it had been growing all through the years, both by the annual Children’s Day offering and by the increasing return of loans from former students.

Then he explained that this Fund, and many other educational affairs, were in the hands of the Church’s Board of Education.  This Board, Marty heard, is a sort of educational clearing house for the whole church, and especially for Methodist schools of higher learning.  It helps young people to go to college, and it helps the colleges to take care of the young people when they go, of course always using money which has come from the churches.  It has charge of a group of special schools in the South, and it sets the scholastic standards to which all the church’s schools and colleges must conform.  Besides looking out for these interests it helps the school to provide courses in the Bible and Christian principles, and it furnishes workers to serve the colleges in caring for the religious life of the students.

Marty listened carefully, and with no lack of interest, but when the minister paused the boy’s mind sprang back to his own particular concern.

“But, Mr. Drury, can any student borrow money from that fund?”

“Well, no,” said the preacher, “not every student.  Only those who are preparing for the ministry or for other careers of special service.  They have to show that the loan will help them in preparing to be of some definite Christian value when they graduate.  That won’t affect you; you can borrow, not all you could use, perhaps, but enough to be a big help.  How much do you expect to need?”

“Why,” answered Marty, “I hardly know.  I hadn’t really thought it possible I could go.  But dad says he’ll let me have all he can, and they tell me a fellow can get work to do if he’s not particular about easy jobs.  I’m pretty sure I could manage, except for tuition and books, but——­”

“Then you may as well consider it settled,” said the pastor, “Cartwright College will welcome you on those terms, or I’ll know the reason why.  And I think you can count on J.W. going with you.”

J.W. was not hard to convince.  His parents were all for it.  The pastor had no intention of overdoing his own part in the affair, and contented himself with a suggestion that disposed of J.W.’s main objection.

J.W. had been saying to him one day, “I know I should have a good time at college, but I should be four years later getting into business than the other boys.”