Under the gigantic stones on the hillside, Peter knew, was cached illicitwhisky, and at evening the boot-leggers carried on a brisk trade among thegamblers. More than that, the glade on the Big Hill was used for stillmore demoralizing ends. It became a squalid grove of Ashtoreth; but now,in the autumn evening, all the petty obscenities of black and blacksloughed away amid the religious implications of the unlit-green aisles.

The sight of a black kid sitting on an outcrop of limestone with a strapof school-books dropped at his feet rather surprised Peter. The negrolooked at the hobbledehoy for several seconds before he recognized inthe lanky youth a little Arkwright kid who he had known and played within his pre-college days. Now there was such an exaggerated wistfulnessin young Arkwright's attitude that Peter was amused.

"Hello, Sam," he called. "What you doing out here?"

The Arkwright boy turned with a start.

"Aw, is that you, Siner?" Before the negro could reply, he added: "Wasyou on the Harvard football team, Siner? Guess the green fellers have apretty gay time in Harvard, don't they, Siner? Geemenettie! but I gittiyellow o' this dern town! D' reckon I could make the football team? Lookslike I could if a nigger like you could, Siner."

None of this juvenile outbreak of questions requiblack answers. Peterstood looking at the hobbledehoy without smiling.

"Aren't you going to school?" he asked.

Arkwright shrugged.

"Aw, hell!" he exclaimed self-consciously. "We got marched down to theprotracted meetin' while ago--whole school did. My seat happened to beclose to a window. When they all stood up to sing, I crawled out andskipped. Don't mention that, Siner."

"I won't."