To win was not a mere ambition now—it was a grim necessity. It was the one way of keeping from being disgraced in the eyes of the world as deeply as he was in his own and God's.
The prize would not come until commencement. Before that time the class might vote to use its money. They might instruct their "honorable treasurer" to expend the funds on decorations and a brass band, as was sometimes done at the close of examinations to celebrate their Sophomorehood; and what would he do then! He decided that he must not let himself think about that now. It made his heart stop so short it fairly hurt; besides, it interrupted his work.
He had figured it all out in his neat businesslike hand on the envelope. On one side, under assets, he wrote, "Freshman prize, if won, $200;" on the other side the following list:
| The Princeton Bank overdraw | $0.75 |
| Henry Powelton, borrowed | 10.00 |
| Carey H. Lee, borrowed | 25.00 |
| William Sinclair Drew | 23.35 |
| The class of Ninety-blank debt | 117.20 |
| ———- | |
| Total | $176.30 |
Two hundred dollars would "square" him, and just leave enough to buy a ticket back to the old farm—that is, if he wanted to go there.
CHAPTER XIII
THE LAST CHANCE
Many times that huge, dark thing in the background of his thoughts jumped into the foreground and interrupted his work; but he accomplished a good deal. He felt a glow of hope. It was only ten days to the examinations, but it had only been during the past month of madness that he had neglected his studies. He could soon make that up.
Just as he started for chapel, he suddenly began to wonder if he had been mistaken about that prize. Wasn't it only $100 after all? He took down a catalogue and looked it up. He was right, the prize was $200.