“Just now it is not a question of Greek or something in its place.  It is a question of facing and overcoming a difficulty or permitting it to overcome you.  You must decide whether you will be a victor or a victim.  There are just three things a man can do when he finds himself compelled to meet one of these difficult things that in one form or another come to everybody.  He can turn and run from it, but that’s the part of a coward.  He can get around it, evade it somehow, but that’s the part of the timid and palterer, and sooner or later the superficial man is found out.  Then there is the best way, which is to meet and master it.  Everybody has to decide which he will do, but do one of the three he must, and there is no escape.”

“You think I ought to hit it between the eyes?”

“Yes, though I should not put it in quite that way,” said his father with a smile.

“I’d like to smash it!  I don’t like it!  I’ll never make a Greek scholar, and I detest Splinter.  He’s as dry as a bone or a Greek root!  He hasn’t any more juice than a piece of boiled basswood!”

“That does not alter the matter.  It won’t change, and you’ve got to choose in which of the three ways I have suggested you will meet it.”

“I suppose that’s so,” said Will quietly.  “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Not a bit.”

“I know what you would say.”

“Then it isn’t necessary for me to say another word.  There’s one thing I am thankful for, Will, and that is that you and I are such good friends that we can talk this trouble all over together.  The dean was telling me this morning—­”

“Have you seen the dean?” interrupted Will quickly.  “What did he say?”

“The dean was telling me,” resumed Mr. Phelps smiling and ignoring the interruption, “that he sees so many of what might be termed the tragical elements of college life, that he sometimes feels as if he could not retain his position another day.  Fathers and mothers broken-hearted, boys discouraged or worse, but the most tragical experience of all, he says, is to try to deal with fathers who have no special interest in their boys, and between whom there is no confidence.  Whatever troubles may come to us, Will, I am thankful that that at least will not be one of them.”

As he spoke Mr. Phelps arose, for the machine which was to convey him to the station could now be seen approaching and the time of his departure had arrived.  His good-bye was hastily spoken for he knew how hard it would be for Will to be left behind, and in a brief time he had taken his seat in the auto.  He saw Will as he hastily ran back to his room and then he could see him as he stood by the window in his room watching the departing auto as long as it could be seen.  He gave no signal to show that he saw his boy, but his own eyes were wet as he was carried swiftly down the street, as he thought of the predicament in which Will was and how the testing-time had come again.