There was a slight scowl on the professor’s brow as he said:  “Ah, yes.  I will now refer to your true mark,” and he drew forth a little book as he spoke and carefully examined the record.  “Ah, yes,” he murmured, not lifting his eyes from the page on which he had placed a forefinger.  “Ah, yes.  It is as I fawncied.  Your average for the term in your recitations is what brings you below.  It is true you are two above the required mark in your examination, but you are three below in your recitation work, and that, I regret exceedingly to say, brings you still one point below the mark necessary to pass you.”  The professor looked up and smiled blandly.

But Will Phelps was not smiling and his vigorous young heart was filled with wrath.  By a desperate effort, however, he contrived to control his voice and said quietly:  “Was I not doing better?  Was I not improving in my work?”

“I should not care to speak positively, but my impression is that you were.  Ah, yes,” he added as he glanced again at his record.  “You were improving.  I may even say there was a marked improvement.”

“And I passed the exam?”

“I have told you that you were two points above the mark required for passing the examination,” said the professor with dignity.

“Then I don’t see what I’m stuck for.”

“You are not ’stuck’.”

“I’m not?  Thank you, professor.  I thought I was.  You can’t understand what a load—­”

“Excuse me, Mr. Phelps.  I did not affirm that you were not conditioned.  I merely declared that you were not ’stuck’.”

“Then I am conditioned, am I?” said Will, his heart instantly sinking.

“Most certainly.”

“What shall I have to do?”

“Pass the examination.”

“But I have passed it!  I passed this one!” declared Will promptly.

Again the professor’s scowl returned and his thin lips were tightly compressed as he said, “I fawncy it will not be necessary for me to repeat what I have already said.  You were deficient in the term work and therefore are conditioned.”

“Then you mean to tell me, do you,” said Will, no longer able to repress his rising indignation, “that, though I steadily improved in my class work, and then passed the examination, in spite of it all you are going to give me a condition because according to your figures I am still one point below?”

“Most certainly.”

“And I’ll have to take another exam?”

“Precisely.”

“Good evening, professor,” said Will, rising abruptly.

There was nothing more to be said, and he felt that it would be wise to withdraw from the professor’s presence before, in his indignation, he should say something he was certain to regret.  When, however, he returned to his own room, there the flood tides of his wrath broke loose.  He related the interview to Foster, and bitterly declared that if a smaller specimen of a man could be found with a microscope