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"Well, come, anyway, and we'll hunt the solitude, if we can't hunt any other game." And they strolled homeward together. In the early evening Lloyd Fenneben and Elinor sat on the veranda watching the sunset through the trees beyond the river. "You are to graduate from Sunrise tomorrow," Dr. Fenneben was saying. "For a Wream that is the real beginning of life.
Don't forget that my old foster father cut me off without a cent and gave her all his money. That's why Nathan Wream married her. He wanted her money for colleges." The sneer on the man's face was diabolical. "I can hit the old man through Elinor, and I'll do it some time, and that's not the only blow that I can strike here, and I am going to finish this thing now."
As Elinor Wream, who was the last one of the company, offered her hand to Vic there was a look of expectancy in her glance which found no response in his own eyes. As he turned away with indifferent courtesy to Trench, the big right guard stared hard at him. "You are a well, any kind of a smooth citizen, I say," he repeated. "What's troubling your liver now?" Vic asked.
A dazzling glare, token of the passing of the storm's fireworks, outlined an irregular opening in the wall before them, revealing at the same time a large room beyond the wall. "Here's the hole where we get out of this trap, Elinor Wream. If such a big lightning like that can get in, we can get out," Vic cried. He crawled through the opening, and pulled her as gently as possible after him.
A sudden shouting and beating of tom-toms down in the Corral, and the call in crude rhyme to straggling couples to close in, announced supper. High above other whooping the voice of Trench, the big right guard, reached the top of the bluff: Victor Burleigh and Elinor Wream, Better wake from Love's Young Dream, Before the ants get into the cream. The beating of a dishpan drowned the chorus.
As he fell, he was very faintly conscious of a sense of pity for Victor Burleigh fighting out a battle with his own honor tonight, and then he must have heard a dog's fierce yelp, and a woman's scream. Somehow, it seemed to come through distance of time, as out of past years, and not through length of space and then of a brutal laugh and an oath with the words: "Now for Josh Wream, and "
Of course, Burgess showed no mercy toward Vic for absence from the classroom while he was caring for little Bug, and the black marks multiplied against him. Elinor Wream had been ill after the night of the storm. Vic had not seen her since the hour when he left her at Lloyd Fenneben's door. He knew he was a fool to think of her at all.
Then above all the crashing and booming they heard Vic Burleigh's voice: "Every fellow take a girl and run for the ford. Come on!" In the darkness, each boy caught the arm of the girl nearest him and made a dash for the ford. A flash of lightning showed Burleigh that the white-faced girl clinging to his arm was Elinor Wream. After that, the storm was a plaything for him.
He says she is a good girl, a beautiful girl with only two great faults. Only two! She's lucky. 'One'" Fenneben glanced more closely at the letter "'is her self-will. I never knew a Wream that didn't have that fault. 'And the other'" the frown drove back the smile now "'is her notion of wealth.
But he gave no sign that he cared to view the empire that lay beyond the window. "We are to be co-workers for some time, Burgess. May I ask you why you chose to come to Kansas?" Fenneben came straight to the purpose of the interview. This keen-eyed, business-like man seemed to Burgess very unlike old Dr. Wream, whom everybody at Harvard loved and anybody could deceive.
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