A good opportunity presented itself the next afternoon. Mr. Dean watched him while he made his trial and after it congratulated him on his speed and commented on the improvement produced by the aid of the running shoes.
“I owe them to Wallace,” David said, and then he described the manner in which Wallace had relieved his need.
“Very thoughtful and tactful as well as very sportsmanlike,” commented Mr. Dean. “That’s the kind of thing I like to hear of a fellow’s doing. I’m almost tempted to raise his Latin marks.”
“I hoped you might be.”
“Even if I were, it wouldn’t help his prospects for passing his college entrance examinations. The trouble with Wallace is he has never yet learned how to study.” Mr. Dean paused for a moment; then he said, “Come up to my rooms after you’ve dressed, and we’ll talk over Wallace’s case.”
So in half an hour they were holding a conference.
“I suppose that you’d like to help Wallace if you could,” Mr. Dean began, and David assented earnestly.
“It may be possible—just a moment till I change my seat; my eyes are bothering me; the light troubles them. Now! As I said, Wallace hasn’t learned how to study. Would you be willing to teach him?”
“Of course, if I could.”