It seemed unjust that John Thorwald, after his long years of hard physical
toil, and his mental struggles, often after hours of grinding work, at the
very time when the five thousand dollars from Henry B. Kingsley's heirs
promised him a chance to study without a body tortured and exhausted,
should be forced again to take up his stern fight for knowledge. And it
was cruel that Thor, just awakening to the true meaning of college life,
striving to grasp campus tradition, and eager to serve his Alma Mater in
every way, should have so little time to mingle with his fellows. He should
be with them on the campus, on the athletic field, in the dorms., the
literary society halls, the Y. M. C. A. He should be realizing the golden
years of college life, the glad comradeship of the campus. Instead, he must
arise in the bitter cold, gray dawn, and from then until late night toil
and study unceasingly.
"It's a howling shame!" declared the serious Hicks, a heart full of
sympathy for Thor. "Just as he wakes up and is trying to understand things
at old Bannister, bang! the Norwhal is blown up by a stray mine, and
down goes his dad's money. Why didn't Mr. Thorwald get the five thousand
transferred to the Valkyrie? Oh, if that money hadn't gone down to Davy
Jones' locker, Thor would be awakened and have time for college life, too!"
Butch Brewster started to speak when the thunderous tread of John Thorwald
sounded in the corridor.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144