He accepted many of the invitations, took an interest in many of the student activities opened to him, and began to drift more and more into society. His after-supper hour of recreation stretched to two, three, and even four hours, till it looked as though he would have to carry out the threat he had made to Johnson that he would sit up all night studying after the match. Many of his new amusements were expensive, and he soon found himself exceeding his allowance. At last the theater parties, fraternity dances and other diversions became so frequent that he found it impossible to get in the hours of study he had prescribed for himself.
He wrote to Dick Bradshaw of his triumph in the championship match and the consequent honors and civilities that had been heaped upon him. He wrote to his father of his wide acquaintance, of his active participation in the life of the University as a whole, and the great success he was making. Incidentally he asked for an increased allowance.
In short, Scotty’s head was rapidly being turned by his sudden rise to the position of popular idol. He knew in his heart that he was acting foolishly, and would have condemned his own actions if he had taken the time to think seriously about them, but he was too busy and too hilariously happy to think about them at all.
This had been going on for about a month when an impending examination in a subject that he had been sorely neglecting forced him to put in a quiet evening’s study with Johnson. Such evenings had become exceedingly rare of late, and for the first time in his life he found that intense studying for a long time was irksome, in fact he found it hard to concentrate his mind enough to study intensely at all.
About eleven o’clock he yawned, looked longingly at the bed and closed his book with a bang. What was the use of studying so hard, anyway, the examination would take care of itself, he had never failed in one in his life. Johnson, who had missed Scott sorely in his long lonesome evenings of study had been watching him furtively with an expression, half pitying, half contemptuous. He had come to admire Scott intensely, and he hated to see his hero falling so rapidly, and for the objects he had always considered so trivial. He thought that Scott would probably resent any criticism from him, but he was still loyal. He had trained Scott up to that fight and if possible he was going to train him down again. He was no coward and grasped the opportunity to put the disagreeable business through without delay.
“Quitting already?” he asked casually, as Scott slammed to his book.
“Yes,” Scott answered with another yawn, “I’m going to bed. I’m sleepy and sick of the stuff. Guess I know enough to pass anyway.”
“Scotty,” Johnson asked bluntly, “how much allowance have you?”
Scott looked up in surprise, for it was the first time that Johnson had ever asked him such a question, and he did not see what he was after. But he answered frankly. “Forty dollars a month, but I’m running shy. Did you want to borrow some?”
“No,” Johnson answered somewhat proudly, “I earn all I need. Bronson has five hundred a month, Swanson six, and Edwards all he can use.”