OF THIS TIME, OF THAT PLACE
99
"I certainly hope you will he successful."
"Thank you. Would you wish to implement that hope?" A rather
dirty finger pointed to the bottom of the sheet. "A faculty recommender
is
necessary," Tertan said stiffly, and waited.
"And you wish me to recommend you?"
"It would he an honor."
"You may use my name."
Tertan's finger pointed again. "It must he a written sponsorship,
signed by the sponsor." There was a large blank space on the form under
the heading, "Opinion of Faculty Sponsor."
This was almost another thing and Howe hesitated. Yet there was
nothing else to do and he took out his fountain pen. He wrote, "Mr.
Ferdinand Tertan is marked by his intense devotion to letters and by
his
exceptional love of all things of the mind." To this he signed his
name which looked hold and assertive on the white page. It disturbed
him,
the strange affirming power of a name. With a business-like air,
Tertan whipped up the paper, folded it with decision and put it into his
pocket. He bowed and took his departure, leaving Howe with the sense
of having done something oddly momentous.
And so much now seemed odd and momentous to Howe that should
not have seemed so. It was odd and momentous, he felt, when he sat
with Blackburn's second quiz before him and wrote in an excessively
firm
hand the grade of C-minus. The paper was a clear, an indisputable
failure. He was carefully and. consciously committing a cowardice.
Blackburn had told the truth when he had pleaded his past record. Howe
had consulted it in the Dean's office. It showed no grade lower than a
B-minus. A canvass of some of Blackburn's previous instructors had
brought vague attestations to the adequate powers of a student impei'fectly
remembered and sometimes surprise that his abilities could be questioned
1t
all.
As he wrote the grade, Howe told himself that his cowardice sprang
from an unwillingness to have more dealings with a student he disliked.
He
knew it was simpler than that. He knew he feared Blackburn: that
was the absurd truth. And cowardice did not solve the matter after all.
Blackburn, flushed with a first success, attacked at once. The minimal
passing grade had not assuaged his feelings and he sat at Howe's desk
and again the blue-hook lay between them. Blackburn said nothing.
With an enormous impudence, he was waiting for Howe to speak and
explain himself.
·
At last Howe said sharply and rudely, "Well?" His throat was
tmse
and the blood was hammering in his head. His mouth was tight
with
anger at himself for his disturbance.
Blackburn's glance was almost baleful. "This is impossible, sir."
"But there it is," Howe answered.
"Sir?" Blackburn had not caught the meaning hut his tone was
llill haughty.
