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 lic in miniature, and his part in it lay over his soul. Once Mr. Banning had said that honor and integrity would be written of Room 13 only as each student brought honor and integrity to it. Praska, pondering that, had never forgotten. He was thinking of Mr. Banning's words now.

In three days the room would elect its officers. Praska's face became grave. To him that election was not a thing of passing moment but an event of epic importance. His studies under Mr. Banning had impressed him with the fact that great causes brought forth great leaders. He viewed his home room—its unity, its ambitions, its loyalty—as a great cause. Would it select a leader who would inspire it to great efforts? For himself he had no ambitions; for the home room he had many aspirations.

Unconsciously he had followed Mr. Banning far. The teacher, an unassuming, apparently commonplace sort of man, influenced much of his thought. One day, in class, Mr. Banning had spoken of the early settlers of the West—of how, though a part of the country, the threads that knit them to the Government at Washington were long and loose. Looking back, Praska told himself that that has been his position in the school. He had been a Northfield man—just that and nothing more. But the home room had