"Do you mean a fellow is to be angry at what he sees inside of himself or what he sees going on around him?" asked Ward quickly.
"In a sense I mean both," replied Mr. Crane. "There isn't one of us who doesn't do things, or is tempted at least to do them, for which he despises himself, and in my opinion he never rises much above them till he comes to have this feeling of anger of which I've just been speaking."
"I think I understand what you mean, Mr. Crane," said Ward rising from his chair. "I never looked at it so before, but you've helped me, helped me more than I can tell you. I think it was just to hear you say what you have been saying to me that I must have come here, Mr. Crane."
"Come again then, Hill. Come whenever you wish. I shall always be pleased to see you."
Ward, as he walked slowly on toward West Hall, of course could not see the smile on Mr. Crane's face as he stood by the window in his room and watched the departing lad, nor perhaps would he have understood it if he had seen it. But Mr. Crane apparently was not displeased at the effect of his words on his pupil, and soon resumed the work which had been interrupted by his entrance.
Ward was thinking deeply as he walked along the path. A new and unusual expression was upon his face, and as he ran up the stairs and stopped before his door, he took the key from his pocket, and said aloud to himself, "Ward Hill--the senior." Just what he meant by the expression he did not explain, perhaps he did not know.
He unlocked the door and started to open it. There was a slight resistance, and leaning against it he pushed the harder.
The door then flew open, but the opening was followed by a crash which might have been heard throughout the building. Chairs, tables, pitchers, lamps, and all the various belongings of the room, had been piled against the door and fallen in a confused mass all about. The room was in complete disorder. The carpet had been torn up, and even the curtains taken from the windows. The bedding was in the middle of the room, and the water from the pitchers had been poured over it. Even the beds had been taken apart and the pieces were scattered about over the floor.
CHAPTER VII
THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED