He knew the man . . . If one wanted to exercise wisely and carefully his duties as a citizen He forgot his food and stared with un seeing eyes across the room.
By and by he left the cafeteria. On the stairs an excited figure halted him.
"Something's happening upstairs about the fund," Perry King said hoarsely.
"Fund?" Praska's mind was on something else.
"You know—the fund that the graduates are raising. There's a meeting of some kind in the principal's office. Carlos Dix is there, and Mr. Ballinger, and a dozen others. Gosh! I'd like to know what's going on to-day."
Praska wasn't interested even in that. Two words ran through his mind—carefully and wisely. He went upstairs without taking thought of where his steps led him. Suddenly voices roused him from his abstraction. He was outside Mr. Rue's office. He saw Carlos Dix; and at that moment the lawyer saw him and came out to the hall.
"George," the man demanded abruptly, "how; about that talk we had? Have you changed your mind?"
"Yes, sir." The boy spoke slowly. "I'm going to the State University. If I don't go I can't be the kind of American citizen I want to be."
