CHAPTER SIX

New Haven, at Last!

Adam was up early Sunday morning, so his face was washed and he was ready to bolt from the train as soon as it pulled into the depot at Pittsburgh shortly before seven o’clock.  He had virtually no time to spare as he hurried to transfer to the Pennsylvania Railroad for the next leg of his journey.  From what little he did see, the city seemed almost as large as Chicago, and its location, where the Monongahela and Allegheny rivers joined to form the Ohio, appeared conducive to growth.  That thought didn’t occur to him until he was settled aboard the next train, however, and nibbling on the single boiled egg he’d taken time to purchase.  An apple, provided by the train boy, rounded out his breakfast.

The train departed immediately.  Leaving the station on Grant Street, the track curved to the right, passing through beautiful countryside, dotted here and there with elegant houses.  Then, for the next forty miles, the train moved through a less picturesque setting, with a number of open bituminous coal mines visible through the window.  The coal region gave way to a fertile valley, and the train crossed the Loyal Hanna on a substantial stone bridge.  Passing through a gap in Chestnut Ridge, on a narrow ledge cut out of rock, the road ran above the Conemaugh River and canal, some one hundred sixty feet below, to Johnstown at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains.  Greek text laid aside, Adam pressed his face to the cool window glass and drank in the hardwood-covered mountainsides.  Some twenty-five miles later the train passed through a tunnel that was three-quarters of a mile long and emerged to even grander mountain scenery, distinct peaks blending with fruitful valleys.

About four and a half hours after leaving Pittsburgh, Adam finally had a chance to grab a meal at Altoona.  Eastbound and westbound trains met here, and long tables were set up to accommodate everyone in the dining hall.  Adam was starving and gulped down as much as he could in the twenty minutes allowed.  That relaxing meal with Jamie at the end of his journey, which Josiah had recommended and paid to provide, was beginning to look more and more attractive.  And no matter what Jamie did, Adam intended to dawdle a full hour over his food—maybe two.

No time for dawdling now, though.  Back on the train and keep those wheels rolling!  They rolled through the center of the Tuckahoe Valley, lying between the main range of the Alleghenies and Brush Mountain.  To the south rich limestone land stretched for a mile and a half, while an equal swath of clay soil lay to the north of the track.  After fifteen miles the landscape changed, as the train entered the deep gorge of the Little Juniata and followed its course into Petersburg.  The name of the town brought a nostalgic smile to Adam’s lips, as he recalled his first memories of Inger in an Ohio town bearing the same name.

Charming mountain scenes accompanied him throughout the afternoon.  Anxious as he was about his entrance exam, he couldn’t resist the pull of such beauty.  He viewed it almost as a last glimpse of home, although the scene seemed tame, compared to the ponderosa forests populating the Cartwright’s ranch.

It was nearly 8:30 that night when the train pulled to a stop at the depot in West Philadelphia.  Adam collected his baggage and asked the porter to recommend a clean, inexpensive hotel nearby.  Taking the man’s advice, he walked to the corner of 41^st and Elm, entered the brick building and inquired if there were any vacancies at the Elm Hotel.  There were, and though the room was small, the bed narrow and the mattress not as plump as the one back home, to Adam it looked like paradise.  After eighteen straight days of travel, any bed that didn’t move was heaven on earth to the weary young man, and he sank gratefully onto the mattress, pulled the covers up to his ears and was asleep within minutes after his head hit the pillow.

* * * * *

            Adam woke early, but refreshed and ready, for once, to face yet another day’s travel, for this one would bring him to the end of his journey—and Jamie!  He had risen early enough to give careful attention to his grooming; his only regret was that he didn’t have time for a long, relaxing soak in a tub.  He’d stripped down and washed before going to bed, though, so he felt clean, and he indulged in a clean shirt from his baggage, as well.  After a hot breakfast of bacon and eggs in the hotel dining room, he walked to the depot of the New Jersey Railroad and purchased his ticket.

Having twenty minutes to spare before his train departed, he purchased a copy of the New York Times and scanned the headlines, which began with THE GREAT REBELLION.  Probably the same headline every day, Adam mused.  War reports had been front-page news in the Territorial Enterprise, too, but there the conflict had seemed distant; here, it crouched close, ready to spring and disrupt a young man’s dreams.  Well, he wouldn’t let it.  He’d promised Pa, and what’s more, he’d promised himself.  Still, he couldn’t deny his interest in the war’s progress, so like every Easterner, he started with the first column, relating the support of Alexander of Russia for the Union, and read every line.

He hadn’t finished the first page when the conductor called “All aboard.”  Hastily folding the newspaper, Adam sprinted for the train and took his seat for a short jaunt of three and a half hours.  For the first twenty to twenty-five miles, adjoining tracks were busy with passing trains, probably locals; Adam didn’t see a single car after that until he came equally close to the end of his journey.  He passed through Trenton and ten miles beyond a fellow passenger pointed out Princeton College, on a ridge above them.  The school was more than two miles away, though, so he couldn’t see it well, and he fared no better when the train passed Rutgers an hour or so later.  He rather wished for a closer view, just so he could get an idea of what a college campus was like, but he’d get his chance later that evening, when he reached New Haven.  At least, he hoped there’d be time to get his first glimpse of Yale before darkness fell.

Within an hour after passing New Brunswick, the stop for Rutgers, commuter trains again began to clog the rails, and Adam surmised that he must be getting near New York City.  The train passed through Newark and not long after the conductor called out, “Next stop Jersey City, end of the line.”  Adam closed his Greek text and gathered his belongings, in case he had to make a quick sprint to the ferry dock.  As it turned out, the track went directly to the dock on the Hudson River, and since the ferry over it ran every ten minutes, he lost only four minutes making that connection.

The ferry deposited him at the foot of Cortlandt Street on the isle of Manhattan, and at first all Adam could do was gape at the towering buildings.  He thought he’d seen big cities before—San Francisco, Chicago, Philadelphia last night—but the view from the dock was overwhelming.  Buildings—eight, nine stories tall—surrounded him, one beyond another, as far as he could see.  Shaking off his awe, he focused on the daunting challenge now facing him.  He had to get to the nearest depot of that final train, but he didn’t know where it was.  Not far, he hoped.  “Please, sir, where might I find the depot for the New York and New Haven Railroad?” he asked the first passerby whose attention he could catch.

“City Hall,” the bespectacled man tossed aside as he breezed down the street.

“But where?”  Adam might as well have asked the wind, which was blowing smartly off the river.  Assuming his destination had to lie inland, he started walking east on Cortlandt and asked the next person he saw where City Hall was located.

“Broadway and Chambers,” the man replied.  Then he, too, was gone with the briskness of the wind.

“I hope one of those intersects Cortlandt,” Adam muttered grimly.  He saw another man headed his direction and, determined not to let this one get away from him, moved to block his path.

“Here now, what’s this?” the burly man demanded.  “Get out the way, lad.”  He started to push the annoying youth aside, but Adam raised an imploring hand.

“Please, sir.  I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m unacquainted with your city and I need directions,” he pleaded.  “The depot for the New York and New Haven Railroad—it’s at City Hall, I was told, but how do I get there?”

“At the park,” the man replied.  Then, seeing Adam’s bewilderment, he chuckled.  “Which means nothing to you, does it, lad?”

Adam grimaced.  “I’m afraid not, sir.  Please.  It’s important that I get there in time to catch my train.”

“Aye, aye, I understand,” the man said.  “Now, the depot’s not at City Hall, lad, but you can take a streetcar there to the terminal at 27^th Street and 4^th Avenue.  Young lad like you might as well hoof it, first to Broadway; it’s not far—couple blocks that way.”  He pointed the direction Adam had been walking.  “Head north to Chambers.”

“It intersects?”

“Aye, aye, that’s right.  You’ll see the post office at one end of the park, City Hall at the Chambers end.  Streetcars in front of that.  Simple enough?”

Adam smiled in earnest relief.  “Yes, sir.  I believe I can get there now.  Thanks!”

“Off with you then.  Don’t know when that train leaves, but it’s about a half hour on the horse cars to the depot, so no dawdling, eh?”

Adam took time to extend a grateful hand.  “No, sir, no dawdling.  Thank you again.”  With a wave he took off, covering the two blocks to Broadway with long, now confident, strides.  Though his heart was racing, youthful dignity wouldn’t permit his legs to follow suit.  Besides, since he didn’t know what time the train left—he hadn’t had time for inquiries before transferring to the ferry—he didn’t know whether he needed to hurry or had time to kill.  He couldn’t risk assuming the latter, however, so he quickened his pace.  Dignity be hanged.

The brisk walk felt good after all the days of sitting, first on the stage and then on one train after another, and his strong muscles didn’t let him down.  In fact, he had energy left for a final sprint across the triangular green swath of the park when he saw a streetcar approaching what had to be City Hall, a grand building with tall pillars of white marble.  He swung aboard the car and paid his five-cent fare just before it pulled away.  “Do you know the schedule for the New York and New Haven Railroad, sir?” he asked the conductor.

“Thirty minutes from now,” came the answer.  Seeing the young man’s anxious look, he added kindly, “You’ll make it in time to buy your ticket, son.”

Adam smiled his thanks.  “Will you tell me where to get off, please?”

“27^th Street and 4^th Avenue stop; I’ll call it out,” the conductor assured him.

There were seats available toward the back, but Adam elected to stand, holding onto a hanging strap, so that he could remain close to the front.  Probably the conductor would shout out the stops all along the line, but he had to be absolutely certain he heard the right one and that he got off quickly and made a beeline for the depot office.  He didn’t doubt the conductor’s word that he’d have time to purchase his ticket, but at this late stage in his journey, he was unwilling to take the slightest chance of a mishap.

The conductor’s estimate proved reliable, and half an hour after boarding Adam bounded off the streetcar and headed inside the depot.  The line at the ticket office was relatively short, but he breathed a sigh of relief once he had the all-important ticket to New Haven in hand.

Soon he boarded, with an intense sense of relief.   Nothing left to fear.  Short of a train wreck, nothing now could prevent his arrival in time for the entrance exams, so Adam settled back to enjoy the scenery, sights that would no doubt be as familiar as the pines of home by the time he returned.  As the train reached each stop along the line, his anticipation mounted: Forty-second Street, Harlem, Williams Bridge, the stately residences of Mount Vernon and the beautiful villas surrounding New Rochelle.  Finally, he passed through Greenwich, whose fine view of Long Island Sound sent ripples of excitement surging up his spine.  A globe in the dean’s office of the Sacramento Academy had taught him that this body of water was within view of New Haven.  Not long now!

But still more stops before he reached his destination: Cos Cob, the quiet homes of Stamford and the rural peace of Norwalk.  He caught his breath when the train passed through Bridgeport, for he recalled Josiah’s telling him of the sectional strife in that town.  He was soon past it, though, rolling through towns lined with stately elms at a speed that almost kept pace with his desire to reach the end of the line.  At last he heard the conductor call out, “West Haven,” and knew that only a few short miles along the seashore would conclude his journey.

Only three miles, in fact, brought him into New Haven, just as twilight was falling.  “No seeing Yale tonight, I suppose,” Adam muttered, shaking his head at the fading light and his own failure to calculate the length of the journey.

A hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he spun around, expecting to see Jamie, but this dark-haired youth, sporting a top hat and cane, looked nothing like the picture he’d seen in St. Joseph.

“I say, chap, did you say ‘Yale’?”  The young man inquired as his eyes traveled, with some disdain, up and down Adam’s unfashionable and travel-wrinkled attire.  “Planning to enroll there, by any chance?”  The slightly hesitant tone carried an air of barely disguised disbelief.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” Adam said.

Before he could say more, the other fellow brightened.  “Ah, then!  Let me be the first to welcome you to New Haven and our illustrious school.  Pledged a freshman society yet?”

“Freshman society?”  Completely befuddled, Adam stared at him.

“No?  I thought not.”  The man clapped a hand to Adam’s shoulder.  “Take the advice of a sophomore with only your best interest at heart, then, youngster.  Delta Kap is the best society there is.”  He fingered the crescent-shaped, black enamel pin attached to his coat lapel.  “And you’re in luck, as we just happen to have a single place left.  Give the word, and I’ll secure it for you.”

Dazed by the spiel of, to him, unintelligible babbling, Adam could only gape at the stranger.

“Adam?”  The voice was soft, slightly tentative.

Adam looked to his right and saw a fair-haired young man, whose kindly expression exactly matched both his memory and the portrait he’d studied in St. Joseph.  “Jamie,” he murmured and moved instinctively toward his old friend.

Their reunion was shortchanged, however, by the earnest sophomore, who quickly placed himself at Jamie’s side.  “Edwards, isn’t it?  And this must be the friend you were expecting from the West?”

“Yes,” Jamie said.  “Adam Cartwright.”  He flushed.  “I’m sorry; I can’t quite recall . . .”

“Quite all right,” the sophomore assured him.  “So many new names and faces, eh?  And you freshmen have your heads too crammed with last-minute preparations for the exams to remember them all, I’m sure.  I’m George Pomphrey.  Have you decided on the Delta Kaps, then, Edwards?  Must decide soon, you know.”

“I thought you said there was only one place left,” Adam said, though he still had no idea what that “one place” referred to.

“Oh, we can stretch our number to include two such strong candidates, I’m sure,” Pomphrey returned glibly.  “Now—Cartwright, is it?—just take a look at this prize list, my boy, and you’ll immediately see the benefits of pledging Delta Kap.”  Pomphrey flapped a piece of paper under Adam’s nose.  “You can readily see we’ve had the most Spoon men, and—well, the list says it all, doesn’t it?  Would President Woolsey authorize it if it weren’t so?  Most certainly not!”

Adam turned a bewildered gaze upon Jamie.

Jamie took Adam’s elbow, saying quickly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Pomphrey, but we really can’t make a decision tonight.  My friend has just arrived, so we haven’t had an opportunity to discuss the benefits of joining any society.”

“Oh, you must.  Everyone does,” Pomphrey gushed.  “And the Delta Kaps are the place for you, I assure—”

“Yes, perhaps so”—Jamie drew Adam toward him—“but we must discuss our options.  I’m sure we can give you an answer soon, but now we must get Adam settled before the exams tomorrow.”

“Oh, quite,” Pomphrey said, though he sounded disappointed.  “Do, at least, promise me you won’t go with the Gamma Nu grinds, now won’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Jamie said, hastily backing away.  “I think we can promise that much, but we must go and get situated now.”

Adam followed Jamie’s lead, backing step by step away from George Pomphrey and his mysterious list.  When they were half a block down the street, both boys turned to walk forward.  “What was that all about?” Adam asked.

Jamie laughed.  “Society man, looking for new pledges.  The sophomores wage a vigorous competition for the honor of their former freshman societies.  You were lucky to have come in so late, Adam; when I arrived, the station was packed with men from all three societies.  In fact, several accosted me before I got off the train!  One of the Sigma Eps bundled me into a hack before I knew what was happening and brought me to a good, cheap lodging house.  I was grateful for that, but he chattered at me the whole way about the virtues of his society and the faults of the others until my head was spinning.  He even bought my dinner, to influence me, although I told him, as I have everyone else, that I could not make a decision until I’d spoken with you.”

Adam grinned.  “I still don’t know what a society is, but maybe we should have listened to that fellow longer, if it meant free transportation and food.  In my present financial condition, such benefits are not to be scoffed at.”

Jamie smiled back.  “Nor in mine.  Oh, Adam, I’m so thrilled you were able to come East after all.  I’ve a thousand things to tell you and ask you, but”—he clapped his palm to his head.  “Your luggage!  I was in such haste to get away from Pomphrey that I completely forgot.”

Adam hefted his bag.  “This is all I have.  I traveled light.”

Jamie chuckled.  “Smart move, though going back would give us another chance to wangle that free meal.”

“I’d prefer a quiet meal alone with you,” Adam said, “and we’re being treated to supper, anyway.  Your father sent money with me for that precise purpose.”

Jamie’s blue eyes misted.  “Dear Father, he sacrifices so much for me.  Did—did he tell you that his school has closed, possibly for the duration of the war?”

“Yes, and I know you’re concerned, but as fine a teacher as your father will find a position somewhere.  I urged him to come East, to be near us, and he said he’d consider it.”

“Wouldn’t that be perfect?”  Jamie’s face reddened.  “I’m sorry, Adam; I’m being thoughtless.”

“You?  Never,” Adam disagreed firmly.

“I mean, you’re so much further from home than I and must miss your family terribly, and here I prate on about life being perfect if only my father were here,” Jamie stammered.

“And so it would be—for me, as well, since he’s very special to me,” Adam responded.  He shifted his bag to his other hand.  “Is it far to our lodging?  That is where we’re headed, isn’t it?”

“It is, though I almost took the wrong turn, chattering away.” They had come to a point where five streets met, and Jamie gestured toward the one ahead and to the left.  “I do hope I’m not this scatter-brained during exams tomorrow!”

Adam laughed as he turned into George Street.  “I just hope I’m awake!”

“You must be exhausted,” Jamie sympathized.  “Just at the end of this block.  We’ll drop off your bag and then find a hot meal close by.”

“Sounds great.  I haven’t eaten since breakfast.  Too anxious to make connections, you know.”

Jamie nodded his understanding just before he stopped in front of a two-story house, whose narrow clapboards were covered with peeling green paint.  A chimney stood at each end of the house.  “It’s old,” Jamie said apologetically, “but clean and well kept.”

Adam touched his friend’s shoulder in gentle reassurance.  “I trust your judgment implicitly.  Neither of us can afford a palace, so clean and well kept is the best we could have hoped for.”

“Well, we could have tried for the Athenaeum,” Jamie said, though his countenance reflected distaste.  “That’s on campus, and some of the poorer freshmen do manage to get a room there.  I’ve heard, though, that there aren’t many available.  Upper classes have first choice of rooms, you know.”

“And the Athenaeum is the dregs left at the bottom of the cup?”  Adam smiled wryly.

Jamie gave a low chuckle.  “Something like that.  Father refused to let me consider it, though I was willing, considering our circumstances.  It would have been cheaper.  Anything on campus is.”

“I think we can trust your father’s wisdom.”  For himself, Adam wouldn’t have minded “the dregs,” but he well remembered how susceptible to respiratory problems his friend was.  No doubt that was the reason Josiah had insisted on better accommodations, and Adam was happy he could contribute to the warmth and comfort Jamie needed.  He caught his friend by the scruff of the neck.  “Now, when are you going to show me what this place has to offer?”

Three steps led to a central door, bordered by two decorative columns.  Jamie opened it and preceded Adam into a central hall.  “We’re on the second floor,” he explained as he led the way to the stairs.  They climbed up and then walked down a hall to the last door on the left.  “Here’s our shebang,” Jamie announced as he flung the door open wide.

Adam arched an eyebrow as he followed Jamie inside.  “Shebang?”

Jamie laughed.  “Just a bit of college slang I’ve managed to pick up in the time I’ve been here.  The silk hat Pomphrey was wearing, for instance, is a plug, and the cane’s called a banger.  We can’t sport those until we’re sophomores.  I don’t know much more than that yet, but it seems we have more than just Latin and Greek to learn here.”

“So it would seem,” Adam chuckled, “but we’re good students; we can handle another language.”

Jamie smiled broadly.  “That we can!”

Adam set his bag down and took a closer look at their shebang.  Two oak tables with ladder-back chairs sat on either side of the six-over-six paned window that overlooked the side yard, while a large double bed with four short posters took up most of the space on the opposite wall.  An identical window, with identical drapes of heavy burgundy graced the center of the back wall.  Centered before it was a single washstand with pitcher and basin.  To the right of the door stood a tall walnut wardrobe cabinet and to the left a pot-bellied stove faced the foot of the bed.

“Does it suit you?” Jamie asked with a hint of concern.  “I didn’t know if you’d want to sleep double, but it was cheaper and—”

“Say no more.  It suits me perfectly.”  Adam grinned.  “As for the bed, I’ve slept with my little brothers before, and it’s not too bad, once they get past the wet-diaper stage.  It’s you who’ll be experiencing a shared bed for the first time, oh pampered only child.”

Amusement flickered in Jamie’s blue eyes.  “I assure you I’m past the wet-diaper stage, and frankly, I’m looking forward to learning what it feels like to have a brother.”

Adam’s dark eyes twinkled.  “So, what will this shebang set us back?”

“A dollar fifty a week for the room, which doesn’t include board,” Jamie said, his brow wrinkling as he reported a sum he wished were smaller.  “Then we have to buy our own coal for the fire, but the college supplies that at cost to students.”

“That’s good.  Anything else?”

“Oil for our lamps, and Mrs. Wiggins, who runs the house, will do our laundry, but that’s an extra charge—sixty cents a dozen.”

Adam nodded.  “Probably less than we’d pay to have it done elsewhere.  At least, that’s how it was at my boardinghouse in Sacramento.”

“Yes, I’d say so, and I don’t doubt she’ll do a more careful job, judging by her impeccable housekeeping,” Jamie advised.  “If you’re through looking around, we should probably get to a restaurant.  I’m fair starved, and I know you must be.”

As they left the room and headed for the stairs, a disturbing suspicion arose in Adam’s mind.  “Jamie, you haven’t been stinting on meals to save money, have you?”

Jamie didn’t answer at first, but the flush on his face gave him away.  Realizing that, he said, “Well, I really do want to join a society, Adam, and that takes money. Skipping a meal here and there seemed the easiest way to save for that.”

“You mustn’t,” Adam chided, descending the stairs slowly.  “We’ll cut corners where we can, but not on food and shelter.  You can’t house a sound mind in an unsound body.”

Jamie smiled back over his shoulder.  “Your father or mine?”

Adam shook his head.  “Neither, though I’m sure they’d both agree.  I learned that for myself during my early days at the academy in Sacramento.”

They left the house and Jamie led the way down the darkened street.  “It’ll be better once we’re actually enrolled.  I hear they have eating clubs on campus.  Costs six to seven dollars a week, but that’s still cheaper than eating in restaurants, as you’re about to discover.”

Adam laughed.  “After this trip I can quote you chapter and verse on the high cost of eateries.  You wouldn’t believe what I’ve paid for bacon and biscuits!”

“We’ll do better than that tonight, I promise.  Here’s the place.”

The restaurant into which Jamie led Adam was small and cozy, its décor simple and its fare hearty.  Both boys soon were dipping their spoons into bowls of steaming oyster stew.  “They grow the oysters in the riverbeds near here,” Jamie informed his friend.  “It’s quite an industry in New Haven.”

“Best we support it, then,” Adam said, patting his stomach, “especially since it’s supporting us quite well.”

They followed the stew with plates of Welsh rarebit and ended with dishes of creamy custard.  Between bites they talked of many things, from old memories to strategies for whittling expenses.  “Joining a freshman society will be expensive,” Jamie shared, “but I do think we should consider it, Adam.  They develop speaking abilities, and that can help us in our class recitations and, especially, in prize debates and competitions.  Some of those even bring cash awards.  If we could just win one . . .”

Adam swirled a morsel of toast in the melted cheese on his plate.  “So it might actually be an investment to join a society?”

“I think Father would say so.  No guarantee it would pay off, of course.”

“How much would this investment cost us?”  Adam put the toast in his mouth, chewing and swallowing while Jamie answered.

“Taxes are ten to fifteen dollars, and with the additional expenses it can come to thirty-five or forty for the year.”

Adam whistled.  “And the prize money?”

“As much as a hundred dollars for some,” Jamie said, “as little as five for others, but there are scholarships, as well.  Most of them go to society men, but I suppose that’s because most students do join one.”

Adam mulled that over.  “Well worth the investment, I’d say.  I mean, even if we never won an award, the experience itself would be valuable, especially for you.  As a preacher, you’ll need to be comfortable with public speaking, so the more opportunities to try your wings, the better.”

Jamie leaned forward earnestly.  “Oh, but I wouldn’t join without you, Adam.  I couldn’t!”

“Then we join together,” Adam said with determination.  “I’m not sure I’ll be doing much public speaking back in Nevada, but I’d like to feel confident, if the need arose.”  He chuckled.  “At least, I should be able to use whatever powers of persuasion I develop on a certain pair of little brothers.”

“Oh, tell me about them,” Jamie urged, his eyes brightening.  “I’m always amused by their latest antics.”

Adam smiled.  “Another time.  Let’s decide about a freshman society first.  You’ve talked to all of them.  Which do you recommend?

“Not the Delta Kaps, despite Mr. Pomphrey’s eagerness to give us the ‘last spots,’” Jamie said, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth.  “They’re much more interested in partying than academic pursuits.  The Gamma Nus are noted as the best scholars, and I won’t object if you want to go with them.  They do charge less.”

“Because they offer less?  Let’s try to forget how empty our pockets are for now,” Adam recommended.  “Choosing the cheapest might be false economy.  What we want is the one that’s the best match for our goals.  You said there were three societies, I believe?”

Jamie nodded.  “The Sigma Eps impressed me most—and not just because of the free meal and extra help they gave me.  They have a reputation for literary excellence, but also for having fun without the endless partying of the Delta Kaps.”

Adam reached for his custard and sat thoughtfully drawing figure eights through it with his spoon.  “A balance between study and fun might be more profitable in the long run,” he mused.  “All work and no play, you know.”

“Yes, that’s just what I was thinking.”

Adam gazed warmly at his friend.  “We always did think alike.  I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.  Sigma Ep it is, then.  Now, let’s tuck into this custard!”

And so they did, with the gusto that only decisions made and a settled mind can give a man.  Before facing the chill of the New England night again, they elected to fortify themselves with a final cup of hot chocolate.  Jamie had actually suggested coffee, but Adam pointed out that the chocolate would be more conducive to a good night’s rest, which both of them needed, and Jamie readily concurred.

As they sipped the hot drink, Jamie seemed to grow more somber.  Finally, after drinking about half, he looked tentatively across at Adam.  “I should have asked before: how are your father, your brothers . . . you . . . doing after . . .”

“Marie’s passing?”  Adam’s eyes veiled as somber scenes flashed past his eyes:  Marie’s fall, his little brothers’ anguish, Pa’s devastation.

“Yes, I . . . oh, I don’t know how to put this, Adam, but you seemed so downhearted in that letter you sent, when you said you couldn’t come to Yale with me, and I’ve been concerned . . . for all of you.”

Adam nodded.  “I was downhearted then, as low as I’ve ever been in my life; I’m sorry it showed, but I guess I could hardly have disguised it from you.  Those were very rough days, mostly because Pa wasn’t coping at all with the loss.  I was trying to, for the boys’ sake, but between guilt and plain ordinary exhaustion . . .”—he couldn’t finish.

Jamie cocked his head quizzically.  “Guilt?  What had you to feel guilty over, Adam?  It was an accident, you said.”

“Not over her death,” Adam explained quietly, “but over the pain I’d given her in life.  I didn’t accept her at first, as you know; I did my best to make her life a living hell.”

Jamie reached across the table to lay his slim hand atop Adam’s sturdier one.  “I think you exaggerate.  I remember your journal from that time, how you struggled with the surprise your father brought home, your confessions of your own bad behavior.  I know you must have caused her grief, but ‘hell’ is excessive, I believe, and all that changed, in time.  You loved her, Adam.”

“But never told her,” Adam sighed.

“She knew.”  Jamie’s voice was stronger than it had been all evening.  “I know she knew, Adam, and anything she didn’t know then, she knows now.”

Adam’s lips curved slightly.  “Practicing your preaching skills already, I see.”

Jamie blushed and ducked his head, but looked up again quickly.  “I’m only saying what I believe.  If that’s preaching, so be it.”

Adam turned his hand over to clasp the one that still rested on it.  “Preach away, my boy; I’m sure I’m in need of it.”

“Not more guilt, surely?” Jamie hinted with a smile.

Adam chuckled as he slid his hand back and lifted his cup again.  “Sometimes I think I’m a bottomless well of that.  I’m so excited to be here at last; yet I can’t help thinking that I’m abandoning Pa when he needs me most.”

“I understand,” Jamie said sympathetically.  “I feel the same at times, spending Father’s good money when he has no promise of more, but I truly believe God has a plan for each of our lives, Adam, and His plan, for both you and me just now, is to be here together, working toward a common goal and finding His will for our lives.”  His face reddened as he mumbled into his cup, “Sorry.  Preaching again.”

Adam shook his head slowly.  “I don’t know, Jamie.  A plan . . . it’s a comforting thought, but . . . well . . . three wives, three deaths . . . so much sorrow for one man . . . does that speak of a plan?  Pure chance couldn’t have dealt us a much harder hand.”

Jamie looked up again.  “Three fine sons, too.  Don’t forget that.  I have questions, too, Adam, and I don’t have all the answers.  Why did my mother have to die?  Why did God take Inger, who was like a second mother to me?  Could Heaven possibly have needed another angel more than we needed her here?  But if He hadn’t taken her, there would never have been a Marie . . . or a Little Joe.”

Adam suppressed a snicker.  “That’s your idea of a blessing?  That little . . . well, yes,” he conceded, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.  “I can’t imagine life without him.”  He sighed.  “I don’t know, Jamie.  I guess it comes down to faith, and mine just isn’t as strong as yours.  I believe in God, but a plan?”  He shook his head again.  “Like you, I have questions; that’s all I’m saying.”

Jamie’s face beamed bright as an angel’s.  “And that’s all right.  God doesn’t mind our having questions, I’m sure.  That’s how we learn anything, isn’t it, by asking questions and seeking answers?  Isn’t that exactly what we’ll do in our classes here at Yale?”

“Not if we don’t pass the entrance exam!”  Adam drained his cup and stood up.  “With that end in mind, we should get back to our room and turn in.  And no chatting away under the covers—your father’s orders.”

“Which I shall obey—almost gladly.”  Jamie quickly finished his chocolate and stood, as well.  “I could cheerfully talk all night, but Father’s right.  We should be rested for tomorrow.”

Adam threw an arm around his friend’s shoulders as they walked out into the nippy air.  “Once we pass, we’ll celebrate with the longest chat on record.”

“That’s a bargain,” Jamie agreed.  “And a prize like that is sure to inspire our success!”