Those few words were enough for Alma. He loved to associate with people, so his evenings were also spent away from home, but each man went his own way. When they returned from their evening's enjoyment, Kent would often say, "Why, there's nothing like it, it seems to put spirit into a person. And what is college life anyway without a little pleasure on the side?" Alma had now become acquainted with all the fellows, and was truly enjoying himself. But his money was going fast, He had no thought of living such a life when he entered school. Then the friend from whom he had borrowed the money, asked that it be returned. He could not pay it back, and he told his story to Kent. "How much money do you need to pay it back?" he asked. "Forty dollars," was the reply. "Here take this, it will help some and will work no hardship on me. You can pay it back whenever it is convenient, or I won't mind if you never pay it back," and he threw a twenty dollar bill on the table. "Oh! thank you, you are a friend in need," the young man replied as he grasped the hand of Kent and gave it a warm shake. The money was paid on the suit, but there was still a debt of twenty dollars. Alma must do something. Could he afford to let his name get out among the fellows, that he was trying to cheat some one? No, he never would. He would get a job and pay it back as soon as possible. The next day found him in the office of the President of the College. He was going to ask for help. The President would help him get a place. But the President was not there. He would return in a few minutes, so Alma decided to wait. It was after school hours, so he stepped into the President's reading room, adjoining the office. He picked up the first magazine he laid his hand on, and as he raised it he spied a twenty dollar gold piece beneath it. He snatched the money from its place, "Ah! ah!" he said, "I'll need no job, I can just pay this money on my suit and be square with the world." And he left the room by the large hall. Little did he realize the half sneering eyes that gazed through the window from the office, at each movement that had taken place in the room. When once out of the building Alma halted to consider the act he had just committed. "Well the thoughts of it will wear off in a day or two," he murmured, trying to justify himself. Then the thoughts of the disgrace of it all. How would his people feel if they discovered a thief in the family? Was this the result of the teaching he had received? From whom had he taken the money? Was it from the President of the College? Yes, he had taken it from the man who at the present time was doing more for him than any other person in the world. He whirled to put it back in its place, but stopped dead still before he had taken ten steps. Maybe the President had returned and discovered the crime. How could he face him and return the money? Who had led him to do this black and evil deed? Could he trace it back to Kent Carlson? Yes, Carlson had said the first word that had started him on his way. Here he resolved to shake off Carlson and live a square and perfect life. Like a black thief, visiting the place of his most noted crime, he retraced his steps and put the money in its place. He went into the office. Yes, he could do the square thing yet. The President had returned and was examining some books. As Alma entered he turned and looked him square in the face, with searching eyes. Had the President seen him take the money? "What can I do for you, my boy?" he asked. Alma's voice quivered as he replied, "I'd like to get a job to help me finish my school work." "'Well, you shall have one. Take this card and you can be put to work in the office of Jones & Jones any time you like. By the way, we are starting an advanced violin class in school for those who have had training. Would you not like to join?" Alma thanked him and told him he would think about the violin course. With the help of the President he purchased a violin, and the evenings that used to be spent with the fellows was spent in the music studio. His whole soul was thrown into his music, he advanced very rapidly and soon began to write his own compositions. He would take his violin in the living room in the evenings and there entertain the family. This led Kent to stay at home in the evening. Alma's music seemed to have a great influence over him. One evening Alma surprised the family by playing his best and latest composition, "The Evening Star." Kent rose from his chair, came slowly over to Alma, and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Don't play that composition when I'm around; I can't bear to hear it, it reminds me of home and mother and her parting words, when she said, 'Live an honest life, my boy, for you have honor in you.' " This was all he said, and quietly left the room. Very little was seen of him