“I believe I could understand anything you might be thinking about—­now, Joe.”  And Marcia’s voice had in it a note which stirred that usually self-possessed young man out of all his easy composure.

“I’ll remember that, Marcia,” he said in the thrill of a swift elation.  “I’ll remember that, because I think you do—­understand, and some day I—­but I’ve got at least five years of plugging ahead of me, and——­”

“You were going to tell me about your big reason for going to the State University,” Marcia broke in, though she wondered afterward if her instinct had not played her false.

“Yes,” Joe said, with a little effort.  “Well, this is it.  You know I didn’t make much of a hit at college; I pulled through sophomore year, but that’s about all, and I doubt if the faculty will pass resolutions of regret when I don’t show up there in the fall.  The religious influences of a church school didn’t prevent me from being a good deal of a heathen, though I will say that was no fault of the school.  Maybe I ought to go back and face the music.  It wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.  But I feel more like making a clean, new start, in a new place.  The State University wouldn’t be any worse for me than I should be for it, if nothing had happened to change my point of view.  So, that isn’t the issue.  But if the State University life is able to beat me before I get to sawing bones at all, I’d make a pretty missionary doctor if I ever landed in foreign parts, wouldn’t I?”

Marcia could find nothing to say; perhaps because her thoughts were busy with other and more personal aspects of Joe’s plans for the future.

And as Joe’s people were completely oblivious to everything except the startling change that had come over him, and were abundantly able to send him to three universities at once if necessary, Joe Carbrook was as good as enrolled.

Marty and J.W. did not find the future opening up before them so easily.  Marty, for all he could not imagine the way opening before such as himself, was all eagerness about the nearest Methodist school, which happened to be the one where the Institute had been held, Cartwright College.  It was named, as may be supposed, in honor of Peter Cartwright, that pioneer Methodist preacher who became famous on the same sort of schooling which sufficed for Abraham Lincoln, and once ran against Lincoln himself for Congress.  J.W. was not specially eager to look for a college education anywhere.  Why should he be, since he was expecting to go into business?

The two had many a discussion, Marty arguing in favor of college for everybody, and J.W. admitting that for preachers and teachers and lawyers and doctors it was necessary, but what use could it be in business?

“But say, J.W., you’re not going to be one of these ’born a man, died a grocer’ sort of business men,” urged Marty.  “Broad-minded—­that’s your future, with a knowledge of more than markets.  And look at the personal side of college life.  Haven’t you heard Mr. Drury say that if he hadn’t anything else to show for his four years at college than the lifelong friendships he made there it would have been worth all it cost?  And you have reason to know he doesn’t forget the studies.”