“Professor Fuller,” I answered.
Ray was silent for a few seconds. Then his face brightened a little.
“Good!” he said. “You are right. There is a chance in him. We will go to see Professor Fuller to-morrow.”
CHAPTER XV
A VISIT TO PROFESSOR FULLER
Whatever may have been Ray Wendell’s feelings that night, my own were varied and conflicting. Not that I repented of our decision. By no means. If the question had again been presented to us in the manner in which it had been proposed by Dr. Drayton the evening previous, I should have made the same answer. But, at the same time, the importance of our college duties, and their claim upon our attention, made me regret more deeply the necessity that had compelled such a choice as ours.
Frequently during the night would arise the question: “Should I have sacrificed my college interests for baseball?” and almost immediately would come the feeling that we had been treated unjustly in being forced to such a choice, and that we were right in rejecting it. The more I considered the matter, however, the more in doubt I became. From this doubt Professor Fuller offered the only chance of relief, and I maintained unwavering trust in him.
“I won’t get discouraged about the matter until I hear what the ‘old governor’ has to say,” I repeated to myself.
Professor Fuller was the oldest and by far the most popular member of the faculty. He was always the student’s first friend on his entrance into Belmont; and many a homesick boy had cause to remember most gratefully the kind attention of the professor at a time when the surroundings were strange to him and he was sadly in need of friendly advice. The old gentleman had always made it a principle to interest himself in all newcomers, to welcome them, and make them feel at home. By innumerable little acts of kindness he would manifest his fatherly interest in the boys, who loved him one and all with a warmth of feeling second only to that which they possessed for their parents.