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 look things over and address the school, and next week I shall move in."

"To address the school?"

"A short talk on my ideals to teachers and pupils." "I'll take you up in the car." "Thank you," said Bevans, "but with my new responsibilities, I don't know that I ought to trust myself in a car whose foot-brake doesn't work."

"Oh, don't be a fuss," said Johns. "The brake's all right."

David, who got up at five to study, had already gone to bed when Austin came home, so he heard nothing of the evening's work, and was much astonished the next morning to see his friend beautifully dressed in a suit of gray clothes, with a blue tie exactly the color of his eyes, stepping into an immense car in which an elderly man was already seated, smoking a cigar.

Bevans had not slept at all—the penalty of an active mind. He had done better: he had outlined his speech, rewritten the school circular, and altered the curriculum. He got up feeling more refreshed than if he had rested.

The morning was calm and mild. They moved north at a high rate of speed.