“Come,” called Frank.
The door opened.
“Lettah, sah,” said the colored man who thrust his head in at the door.
Frank took it, and the colored man disappeared.
“It’s from Prof. Scotch,” he said, and then he laid it on the table.
Prof. Scotch was Frank’s old teacher and guardian.
Three times Frank walked up and down the room. He paused and looked around. It was a pleasant, well-furnished room. There were handsome pictures on the walls, there were foils, boxing gloves, tennis rackets and so forth. There also were strange curios from many lands, all gathered by Frank himself.
This room was like home to Frank. He loved it for its associations. Some day he must leave it, but what pleasant memories of his college days he would carry away.
Watching him his friends saw the strange expression on his face, and they knew not what to make of the change in him. He stopped by the table and picked up the letter.
“Excuse me while I read it, please,” he said.