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diff --git a/old/16532-8.txt b/old/16532-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6f489a7..0000000 --- a/old/16532-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8604 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plastic Age, by Percy Marks - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Plastic Age - -Author: Percy Marks - -Release Date: August 15, 2005 [EBook #16532] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - - - - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -THE PLASTIC AGE - -BY - -PERCY MARKS - -ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES -FROM THE PHOTOPLAY -A PREFERRED PICTURE - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - -[Illustration: "SHE'S _MY_ GIRL! HANDS OFF!"] - -Made in the United States of America - -1924 -THE CENTURY Co. -PRINTED IN U. S. A. - - -To -MY MOTHER - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - "SHE'S _MY_ GIRL! HANDS OFF!" - "LOOK! FLANNELS FOR MAMMA'S BOY!" - "COME ON--I KNOW WHERE THERE'S LIQUID REFRESHMENT!" - "THAT'S CYNTHIA DAY--A REAL HOTSY-TOTSY!" - "DANCE, SALOME!" - HUGH'S POPULARITY IS ESTABLISHED AFTER THE FIRST ATHLETIC TRY-OUTS. - "ONE TURN, HUGH, AND WE'LL QUIT THESE JOINTS FOR GOOD!" - CARL FORGETS HIS ANIMOSITY IN HONEST ADMIRATION FOR HUGH. - - - - -THE PLASTIC AGE - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -When an American sets out to found a college, he hunts first for a hill. -John Harvard was an Englishman and indifferent to high places. The -result is that Harvard has become a university of vast proportions and -no color. Yale flounders about among the New Haven shops, trying to rise -above them. The Harkness Memorial tower is successful; otherwise the -university smells of trade. If Yale had been built on a hill, it would -probably be far less important and much more interesting. - -Hezekiah Sanford was wise; he found first his hill and then founded his -college, believing probably that any one ambitious enough to climb the -hill was a man fit to wrestle with learning and, if need be, with Satan -himself. Satan was ever before Hezekiah, and he fought him valiantly, -exorcising him every morning in chapel and every evening at prayers. The -first students of Sanford College learned Latin and Greek and to fear -the devil. There are some who declare that their successors learn less. - -Hezekiah built Sanford Hall, a fine Georgian building, performed the -duties of trustees, president, dean, and faculty for thirty years, and -then passed to his reward, leaving three thousand acres, his library of -five hundred books, mostly sermons, Sanford Hall, and a charter that -opened the gates of Sanford to all men so that they might "find the true -light of God and the glory of Jesus in the halls of this most liberal -college." - -More than a century had passed since Hezekiah was laid to rest in -Haydensville's cemetery. The college had grown miraculously and changed -even more miraculously. Only the hill and its beautiful surroundings -remained the same. Indian Lake, on the south of the campus, still -sparkled in the sunlight; on the east the woods were as virgin as they -had been a hundred and fifty years before. Haydensville, still only a -village, surrounded the college on the west and north. - -Hezekiah's successors had done strange things to his campus. There were -dozens of buildings now surrounding Sanford Hall, and they revealed all -the types of architecture popular since Hezekiah had thundered his last -defiance at Satan. There were fine old colonial buildings, their windows -outlined by English ivy; ponderous Romanesque buildings made of stone, -grotesque and hideous; a pseudo-Gothic chapel with a tower of -surpassing loveliness; and four laboratories of the purest factory -design. But despite the conglomerate and sometimes absurd -architecture--a Doric temple neighbored a Byzantine mosque--the campus -was beautiful. Lawns, often terraced, stretched everywhere, and the -great elms lent a dignity to Sanford College that no architect, however -stupid, could quite efface. - -This first day of the new college year was glorious in the golden haze -of Indian summer. The lake was silver blue, the long reflections of the -trees twisting and bending as a soft breeze ruffled the surface into -tiny waves. The hills already brilliant with color--scarlet, burnt -orange, mauve, and purple--flamed up to meet the clear blue sky; the -elms softly rustled their drying leaves; the white houses of the village -retreated coyly behind maples and firs and elms: everywhere there was -peace, the peace that comes with strength that has been stronger than -time. - -As Hugh Carver hastened up the hill from the station, his two suit-cases -banged his legs and tripped him. He could hardly wait to reach the -campus. The journey had been intolerably long--Haydensville was more -than three hundred miles from Merrytown, his home--and he was wild to -find his room in Surrey Hall. He wondered how he would like his -room-mate, Peters.... What's his name? Oh, yes, Carl.... The registrar -had written that Peters had gone to Kane School.... Must be pretty fine. -Ought to be first-class to room with.... Hugh hoped that Peters wouldn't -think that he was too country.... - -Hugh was a slender lad who looked considerably less than his eighteen -years. A gray cap concealed his sandy brown hair, which he parted on the -side and which curled despite all his brushing. His crystalline blue -eyes, his small, neatly carved nose, his sensitive mouth that hid a shy -and appealing smile, were all very boyish. He seemed young, almost -pathetically young. - -People invariably called him a nice boy, and he didn't like it; in fact, -he wanted to know how they got that way. They gave him the pip, that's -what they did. He guessed that a fellow who could run the hundred in 10: -2 and out-box anybody in high school wasn't such a baby. Why, he had -overheard one of the old maid teachers call him sweet. Sweet! Cripes, -that old hen made him sick. She was always pawing him and sticking her -skinny hands in his hair. He was darn glad to get to college where there -were only men teachers. - -Women always wanted to get their hands into his hair, and boys liked him -on sight. Many of those who were streaming up the hill before and behind -him, who passed him or whom he passed, glanced at his eager face and -thought that there was a guy they'd like to know. - -An experienced observer would have divided those boys into three groups: -preparatory school boys, carelessly at ease, well dressed, or, as the -college argot has it, "smooth"; boys from city schools, not so well -dressed perhaps, certainly not so sure of themselves; and country boys, -many of them miserably confused and some of them clad in Kollege Kut -Klothes that they would shamefacedly discard within a week. - -Hugh finally reached the top of the hill, and the campus was before him. -He had visited the college once with his father and knew his way about. -Eager as he was to reach Surrey Hall, he paused to admire the -pseudo-Gothic chapel. He felt a little thrill of pride as he stared in -awe at the magnificent building. It had been willed to the college by an -alumnus who had made millions selling rotten pork. - -Hugh skirted two of the factory laboratories, hurried between the Doric -temple and Byzantine mosque, paused five times to direct confused -classmates, passed a dull red colonial building, and finally stood -before Surrey Hall, a large brick dormitory half covered by ivy. - -He hurried up-stairs and down a corridor until he found a door with 19 -on it. He knocked. - -"What th' hell! Come in." The voice was impatiently cheerful. - -Hugh pushed open the door and entered the room to meet wild -confusion--and his room-mate. The room was a clutter of suit-cases, -trunks, clothes, banners, unpacked furniture, pillows, pictures, -golf-sticks, tennis-rackets, and photographs--dozens of photographs, all -of them of girls apparently. In the middle of the room a boy was on his -knees before an open trunk. He had sleek black hair, parted meticulously -in the center, a slender face with rather sharp features and large black -eyes that almost glittered. His lips were full and very red, almost too -red, and his cheeks seemed to be colored with a hard blush. - -"Hullo," he said in a clear voice as Hugh came in. "Who are you?" - -Hugh flushed slightly. "I'm Carver," he answered, "Hugh Carver." - -The other lad jumped to his feet, revealing, to Hugh's surprise, golf -knickers. He was tall, slender, and very neatly built. - -"Hell!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have guessed that." He held out his -hand. "I'm Carl Peters, the guy you've got to room with--and God help -you." - -Hugh dropped his suit-cases and shook hands. "Guess I can stand it," he -said with a quick laugh to hide his embarrassment. "Maybe you'll need a -little of God's help yourself." Diffident and unsure, he smiled--and -Peters liked him on the spot. - -"Chase yourself," Peters said easily. "I know a good guy when I see one. -Sit down somewhere--er, here." He brushed a pile of clothes off a trunk -to the floor with one sweep of his arm. "Rest yourself after climbing -that goddamn hill. Christ! It's a bastard, that hill is. Say, your -trunk's down-stairs. I saw it. I'll help you bring it up soon's you've -got your wind." - -Hugh was rather dazzled by the rapid, staccato talk, and, to tell the -truth, he was a little shocked by the profanity. Not that he wasn't used -to profanity; he had heard plenty of that in Merrytown, but he didn't -expect somehow that a college man--that is, a prep-school man--would use -it. He felt that he ought to make some reply to Peters's talk, but he -didn't know just what would do. Peters saved him the trouble. - -"I'll tell you, Carver--oh, hell, I'm going to call you Hugh--we're -going to have a swell joint here. Quite the darb. Three rooms, you know; -a bedroom for each of us and this big study. I've brought most of the -junk that I had at Kane, and I s'pose you've got some of your own." - -"Not much," Hugh replied, rather ashamed of what he thought might be -considered stinginess. He hastened to explain that he didn't know what -Carl would have; so he thought that he had better wait and get his stuff -at college. - -"That's the bean," exclaimed Carl, He had perched himself on the -window-seat. He threw one well shaped leg over the other and gazed at -Hugh admiringly. "You certainly used the old bean. Say, I've got a hell -of a lot of truck here, and if you'd a brought much, we'd a been -swamped.... Say, I'll tell you how we fix this dump." He jumped up, led -Hugh on a tour of the rooms, discussed the disposal of the various -pieces of furniture with enormous gusto, and finally pointed to the -photographs. - -"Hope you don't mind my harem," he said, making a poor attempt to hide -his pride. - -"It's some harem," replied Hugh in honest awe. - -Again he felt ashamed. He had pictures of his father and mother, and -that was all. He'd write to Helen for one right away. "Where'd you get -all of 'em? You've certainly got a collection." - -"Sure have. The album of hearts I've broken. When I've kissed a girl -twice I make her give me her picture. I've forgotten the names of some -of these janes. I collected ten at Bar Harbor this summer and three at -Christmas Cove. Say, this kid--" he fished through a pile of -pictures--"was the hottest little devil I ever met." He passed to Hugh a -cabinet photograph of a standard flapper. "Pet? My God!" He cast his -eyes ceilingward ecstatically. - -Hugh's mind was a battle-field of disapproval and envy. Carl dazzled and -confused him. He had often listened to the recitals of their exploits by -the Merrytown Don Juans, but this good-looking, sophisticated lad -evidently had a technique and breadth of experience quite unknown to -Merrytown. He wanted badly to hear more, but time was flying and he -hadn't even begun to unpack. - -"Will you help me bring up my trunk?" he asked half shyly. - -"Oh, hell, yes. I'd forgotten all about that. Come on." - -They spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, arranging and -rearranging the furniture and pictures. They found a restaurant and had -dinner. Then they returned to 19 Surrey and rearranged the furniture -once more, pausing occasionally to chat while Carl smoked. He offered -Hugh a cigarette. Hugh explained that he did not smoke, that he was a -sprinter and that the coaches said that cigarettes were bad for a -runner. - -"Right-o," said Carl, respecting the reason thoroughly. "I can't run -worth a damn myself, but I'm not bad at tennis--not very good, either. -Say, if you're a runner you ought to make a fraternity easy. Got your -eye on one?" - -"Well," said Hugh, "my father's a Nu Delt." - -"The Nu Delts. Phew! High-hat as hell." He looked at Hugh enviously. -"Say, you certainly are set. Well, my old man never went to college, but -I want to tell you that he left us a whale of a lot of jack when he -passed out a couple of years ago." - -"What!" Hugh exclaimed, staring at him in blank astonishment. - -In an instant Carl was on his feet, his flashing eyes dimmed by tears. -"My old man was the best scout that ever lived--the best damned old -scout that ever lived." His sophistication was all gone; he was just a -small boy, heartily ashamed of himself and ready to cry. "I want you to -know that," he ended defiantly. - -At once Hugh was all sympathy. "Sure, I know," he said softly. Then he -smiled and added, "So's mine." - -Carl's face lost its lugubriousness in a broad grin. "I'm a fish," he -announced. "Let's hit the hay." - -"You said it!" - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Hugh wrote two letters before he went to bed, one to his mother and -father and the other to Helen Simpson. His letter to Helen was very -brief, merely a request for her photograph. - -Then, his mind in a whirl of excitement, he went to bed and lay awake -dreaming, thinking of Carl, the college, and, most of all, of Helen and -his walk with her the day before. - -He had called on her to say good-by. They had been "going together" for -a year, and she was generally considered his girl. She was a pretty -child with really beautiful brown hair, which she had foolishly bobbed, -lively blue eyes, and an absurdly tiny snub nose. She was little, with -quick, eager hands--a shallow creature who was proud to be seen with -Hugh because he had been captain of the high-school track team. But she -did wish that he wasn't so slow. Why, he had kissed her only once, and -that had been a silly peck on the cheek. Perhaps he was just shy, but -sometimes she was almost sure that he was "plain dumb." - -They had walked silently along the country road to the woods that -skirted the town. An early frost had already touched the foliage with -scarlet and orange. They sat down on a fallen log, and Hugh gazed at a -radiant maple-tree. - -Helen let her hand drop lightly on his. "Thinking of me?" she asked -softly. - -Hugh squeezed her hand. "Yes," he whispered, and looked at the ground -while he scuffed some fallen leaves with the toe of his shoe. - -"I am going to miss you, Hughie--oh, awfully. Are you going to miss me?" - -He held her hand tightly and said nothing. He was aware only of her -hand. His throat seemed to be stopped, choked with something. - -A bird that should have been on its way south chirped from a tree near -by. The sound made Hugh look up. He noticed that the shadows were -lengthening. He and Helen would have to start back pretty soon or he -would be late for dinner. There was still packing to do; his mother had -said that his father wanted to have a talk with him--and through all his -thoughts there ran like a fiery red line the desire to kiss the girl -whose hand was clasped in his. - -He turned slightly toward her. "Hughie," she whispered and moved close -to him. His heart stopped as he loosened her hand from his and put his -arm around her. With a contented sigh she rested her head on one -shoulder and her hand on the other. "Hughie dear," she breathed softly. - -He hesitated no longer. His heart was beating so that he could not -speak, but he bent and kissed her. And there they sat for half an hour -more, close in each other's embrace, speaking no words, but losing -themselves in kisses that seemed to have no end. - -Finally Hugh realized that darkness had fallen. He drew the yielding -girl to her feet and started home, his arm around her. When they reached -her gate, he embraced her once more and kissed her as if he could never -let her go. A light flashed in a window. Frightened, he tried to leave, -but she clung to him. - -"I must go," he whispered desperately. - -"I'm going to miss you awfully." He thought that she was weeping--and -kissed her again. Then as another window shot light into the yard, he -forced her arms from around his neck. - -"Good-by, Helen. Write to me." His voice was rough and husky. - -"Oh, I will. Good-by--darling." - -He walked home tingling with emotion. He wanted to shout; he felt -suddenly grown up. Golly, but Helen was a little peach. He felt her arms -around his neck again, her lips pressed maddeningly to his. For an -instant he was dizzy.... - - * * * * * - -As he lay in bed in 19 Surrey thinking of Helen, he tried to summon that -glorious intoxication again. But he failed. Carl, the college, -registration--a thousand thoughts intruded themselves. Already Helen -seemed far away, a little nebulous. He wondered why.... - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -For the next few days Carl and Hugh did little but wait in line. They -lined up to register; they lined up to pay tuition; they lined up to -shake hands with President Culver; they lined up to talk for two quite -useless minutes with the freshman dean; they lined up to be assigned -seats in the commons. Carl suggested that he and Hugh line up in the -study before going to bed so that they would keep in practice. Then they -had to attend lectures given by various members of the faculty about -college customs, college manners, college honor, college everything. -After the sixth of them, Hugh, thoroughly weary and utterly confused, -asked Carl if he now had any idea of what college was. - -"Yes," replied Carl; "it's a young ladies' school for very nice boys." - -"Well," Hugh said desperately, "if I have to listen to about two more -awfully noble lectures, I'm going to get drunk. I have a hunch that -college isn't anything like what these old birds say it is. I hope not, -anyway." - -"Course it isn't. Say, why wait for two more of the damn things to kill -you off?" He pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and held it out -invitingly. - -Hugh laughed. "You told me yourself that that stuff was catgut and that -you wouldn't drink it on a bet. Besides, you know that I don't drink. If -I'm going to make my letter, I've got to keep in trim." - -"Right you are. Wish I knew what to do with this poison. If I leave it -around here, the biddy'll get hold of it, and then God help us. I'll -tell you what: after it gets dark to-night we'll take it down and poison -the waters of dear old Indian Lake." - -"All right. Say, I've got to pike along; I've got a date with my faculty -adviser. Hope I don't have to stand in line." - -He didn't have to stand in line--he was permitted to sit--but he did -have to wait an hour and a half. Finally a student came out of the inner -office, and a gruff voice from within called, "Next!" - -"Just like a barber shop," flashed across Hugh's mind as he entered the -tiny office. - -An old-young man was sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He glanced -up as Hugh came in and motioned him to a chair beside him. Hugh sat down -and stared at his feet. - -"Um, let's see. Your name's--what?" - -"Carver, sir. Hugh Carver." - -The adviser, Professor Kane, glanced at some notes. "Oh, yes, from -Merrytown High School, fully accredited. Are you taking an A.B. or a -B.S.?" - -"I--I don't know." - -"You have to have one year of college Latin for a B.S. and at least two -years of Greek besides for an A.B." - -"Oh!" Hugh was frightened and confused. He knew that his father was an -A.B., but he had heard the high-school principal say that Greek was -useless nowadays. Suddenly he remembered: the principal had advised him -to take a B.S.; he had said that it was more practical. - -"I guess I'd better take a B.S.," he said softly. "Very well." Professor -Kane, who hadn't yet looked at Hugh, picked up a schedule card. "Any -middle name?" he asked abruptly. - -"Yes, sir--Meredith." - -Kane scribbled H.M. Carver at the top of the card and then proceeded to -fill it in rapidly. He hastily explained the symbols that he was using, -but he did not say anything about the courses. When he had completed the -schedule, he copied it on another card, handed one to Hugh, and stuck -the other into a filing-box. - -"Anything else?" he asked, turning his blond, blank face toward Hugh for -the first time. - -Hugh stood up. There were a dozen questions that he wanted to ask. "No, -sir," he replied. "Very well, then. I am your regular adviser. You will -come to me when you need assistance. Good day." - -"Good day, sir," and as Hugh passed out of the door, the gruff voice -bawled, "Next!" The boy nearest the door rose and entered the sanctum. - -Hugh sought the open air and gazed at the hieroglyphics on the card. -"Guess they mean something," he mused, "but how am I going to find out?" -A sudden fear made him blanch. "I bet I get into the wrong places. Oh, -golly!" - - * * * * * - -Then came the upper-classmen, nearly seven hundred of them. The quiet -campus became a bedlam of excitement and greetings. "Hi, Jack. Didya -have a good summer?"... "Well, Tom, ol' kid, I sure am glad to see you -back."... "Put her there, ol' scout; it's sure good to see you." -Everywhere the same greetings: "Didya have a good summer? Glad to see -you back." Every one called every one else by his first name; every one -shook hands with astonishing vigor, usually clutching the other fellow -by the forearm at the same time. How cockily these lads went around the -campus! No confusion or fear for them; they knew what to do. - -For the first time Hugh felt a pang of homesickness; for the first time -he realized that he wasn't yet part of the college. He clung close to -Carl and one or two other lads in Surrey with whom he picked up an -acquaintance, and Carl clung close to Hugh, careful to hide the fact -that he felt very small and meek. For the first time _he_ realized that -he was just a freshman--and he didn't like it. - -Then suddenly the tension, which had been gathering for a day or so, -broke. Orders went out from the upper-classmen that all freshmen put on -their baby bonnets, silly little blue caps with a bright orange button. -From that moment every freshman was doomed. Work was their lot, and -plenty of it. "Hi, freshman, carry up my trunk. Yeah, you, freshman--you -with the skinny legs. You and your fat friend carry my trunk up to the -fourth floor--and if you drop it, I'll break your fool necks."... -"Freshman! go down to the station and get my suit-cases. Here are the -checks. Hurry back if you know what's good for you."... "Freshman! go -up to Hill Twenty-eight and put the beds together."... "Freshman! come -up to my room. I want you to hang pictures." - -Fortunately the labor did not last long, but while it lasted Hugh was -hustled around as he never had been before. And he loved it. He loved -his blue cap and its orange button; he loved the upper-classmen who -called him freshman and ordered him around; he loved the very trunks -that he lugged so painfully up-stairs. He was being recognized, merely -as a janitor, it is true, but recognized; at last he was a part of -Sanford College. Further, one of the men who had ordered him around the -most fiercely wore a Nu Delta pin, the emblem of his father's -fraternity. He ran that man's errands with such speed and willingness -that the hero decided that the freshman was "very, very dumb." - -That night Hugh and Carl sat in 19 Surrey and rested their aching bones, -one on a couch, the other in a leather Morris chair. - -"Hot stuff, wasn't it?" said Hugh, stretching out comfortably. - -"Hot stuff, hell! How do they get that way?" - -"Never mind; we'll do the ordering next year." - -"Right you are," said Carl decisively, lighting a cigarette, "and won't -I make the little frosh walk." He gazed around the room, his face -beaming with satisfaction. "Say, we're pretty snappy here, aren't we?" - -Hugh, too, looked around admiringly. The walls were almost hidden by -banners, a huge Sanford blanket--Hugh's greatest contribution--Carl's -Kane blanket, the photographs of the "harem," posters of college -athletes and movie bathing-girls, pipe-racks, and three Maxfield Parrish -prints. - -"It certainly is fine," said Hugh proudly. "All we need is a barber pole -and a street sign." - -"We'll have 'em before the week is out." This with great decision. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Carl's adviser had been less efficient than Hugh's; therefore he knew -what his courses were, where the classes met and the hours, the names of -his instructors, and the requirements other than Latin for a B.S. -degree. Carl said that he was taking a B.S. because he had had a year of -Greek at Kane and was therefore perfectly competent to make full use of -the language; he could read the letters on the front doors of the -fraternity houses. - -The boys found that their courses were the same but that they were in -different sections. Hugh was in a dilemma; he could make nothing out of -his card. - -"Here," said Carl, "give the thing to me. My adviser was a good scout -and wised me up. This P.C. isn't paper cutting as you might suppose; -it's gym. You'll get out of that by signing up for track. P.C. means -physical culture. Think of that! You can sign up for track any time -to-morrow down at the gym. And E I, 7 means that you're in English I, -Section 7; and M is math. You re in Section 3. Lat means Latin, of -course--Section 6. My adviser--he tried pretty hard to be funny--said -that G.S. wasn't glorious salvation but general science. That meets in -the big lecture hall in Cranston. We all go to that. And H I, 4 means -that you are in Section 4 of History I. See? That's all there is to it. -Now this thing"--he held up a printed schedule--"tells you where the -classes meet." - -With a great deal of labor, discussion, and profanity they finally got a -schedule made out that meant something to Hugh. He heaved a -Brobdingnagian sigh of relief when they finished. - -"Well," he exclaimed, "that's that! At last I know where I'm going. You -certainly saved my life. I know where all the buildings are; so it ought -to be easy." - -"Sure," said Carl encouragingly; "it's easy. Now there's nothing to do -till to-morrow until eight forty-five when we attend chapel to the glory -of the Lord. I think I'll pray to-morrow; I may need it. Christ! I hate -to study." - -"Me, too," Hugh lied. He really loved books, but somehow he couldn't -admit the fact, which had suddenly become shameful, to Carl. "Let's go -to the movies," he suggested, changing the subject for safety. - -"Right-o!" Carl put on his freshman cap and flung Hugh's to him. "Gloria -Nielsen is there, and she's a pash baby. Ought to be a good fillum." - -The Blue and Orange--it was the only movie theater in town--was almost -full when the boys arrived. Only a few seats near the front were still -vacant. A freshman started down the aisle, his "baby bonnet" stuck -jauntily on the back of his head. - -"Freshman!"... "Kill him!"... "Murder the frosh!" Shouts came from all -parts of the house, and an instant later hundreds of peanuts shot -swiftly at the startled freshman. "Cap! Cap! Cap off!" There was a panic -of excitement. Upper-classmen were standing on their chairs to get free -throwing room. The freshman snatched off his cap, drew his head like a -scared turtle down into his coat collar, and ran for a seat. Hugh and -Carl tucked their caps into their coat pockets and attempted to stroll -nonchalantly down the aisle. They hadn't taken three steps before the -bombardment began. Like their classmate, they ran for safety. - -Then some one in the front of the theatre threw a peanut at some one in -the rear. The fight was on! Yelling like madmen, the students stood on -their chairs and hurled peanuts, the front and rear of the house -automatically dividing into enemy camps. When the fight was at its -hottest, three girls entered. - -"Wimmen! Wimmen!" As the girls walked down the aisle, infinitely pleased -with their reception, five hundred men stamped in time with their -steps. - -No sooner were the girls seated than there was a scramble in one corner, -an excited scuffling of feet. "I've got it!" a boy screamed. He stood on -his chair and held up a live mouse by its tail. There was a shout of -applause and then--"Play catch!" - -The boy dropped the writhing mouse into a peanut bag, screwed the open -end tight-closed, and then threw the bag far across the room. Another -boy caught it and threw it, this time over the girls' heads. They -screamed and jumped upon their chairs, holding their skirts, and dancing -up and down in assumed terror. Back over their heads, back and over, -again and again the bagged mouse was thrown while the girls screamed and -the boys roared with delight. Suddenly one of the girls threw up her -arm, caught the bag deftly, held it for a second, and then tossed it -into the rear of the theater. - -Cheers of terrifying violence broke loose: "Ray! Ray! Atta girl! Hot -dog! Ray, ray!" And then the lights went out. - -"Moosick! Moosick! Moo-_sick_!" The audience stamped and roared, -whistled and howled. "Moosick! We want moosick!" - -The pianist, an undergraduate, calmly strolled down the aisle. - -"Get a move on!"... "Earn your salary!"... "Give us moosick!" - -The pianist paused to thumb his nose casually at the entire audience, -and then amid shouts and hisses sat down at the piano and began to play -"Love Nest." - -Immediately the boys began to whistle, and as the comedy was utterly -stupid, they relieved their boredom by whistling the various tunes that -the pianist played until the miserable film flickered out. - -Then the "feature" and the fun began. During the stretches of pure -narrative, the boys whistled, but when there was any real action they -talked. The picture was a melodrama of "love and hate," as the -advertisement said. - -The boys told the actors what to do; they revealed to them the secrets -of the plot. "She's hiding behind the door, Harold. No, no! Not that -way. Hey, dumbbell--behind the door."... "Catch him, Gloria; he's only -shy!"... "No, that's not him!" - -The climactic fight brought shouts of encouragement--to the villain. -"Kill him!"... "Shoot one to his kidneys!"... "Ahhhhh," as the villain -hit the hero in the stomach.... "Muss his hair. Attaboy!"... "Kill the -skunk!" And finally groans of despair when the hero won his inevitable -victory. - -But it was the love scenes that aroused the greatest ardor and joy. The -hero was given careful instructions. "Some neckin', Harold!"... "Kiss -her! Kiss her! Ahhh!"... "Harold, Harold, you're getting rough!"... -"She's vamping you, Harold!"... "Stop it; Gloria; he's a good boy." And -so on until the picture ended in the usual close-up of the hero and -heroine silhouetted in a tender embrace against the setting sun. The -boys breathed "Ahhhh" and "Ooooh" ecstatically--and laughed. The -meretricious melodrama did not fool them, but they delighted in its -absurdities. - -The lights flashed on and the crowd filed out, "wise-cracking" about the -picture and commenting favorably on the heroine's figure. There were -shouts to this fellow or that fellow to come on over and play bridge, -and suggestions here and there to go to a drug store and get a drink. - -Hugh and Carl strolled home over the dark campus, both of them radiant -with excitement, Hugh frankly so. - -"Golly, I did enjoy that," he exclaimed. "I never had a better time. It -was sure hot stuff. I don't want to go to the room; let's walk for a -while." - -"Yeah, it was pretty good," Carl admitted. "Nope, I can't go walking; -gotta write a letter." - -"Who to? The harem?" - -Carl hunched his shoulders until his ears touched his coat collar. -"Gettin' cold. Fall's here. Nope, not the harem. My old lady." - -Hugh looked at him bewildered. He was finding Carl more and more a -conundrum. He consistently called his mother his old lady, insisted that -she was a damned nuisance--and wrote to her every night. Hugh was -writing to his mother only twice a week. It was very confusing.... - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Capwell Chapel--it bore the pork merchant's name as an eternal memorial -to him--was as impressive inside as out. The stained-glass windows had -been made by a famous New York firm; the altar had been designed by an -even more famous sculptor. The walls, quite improperly, were adorned -with paintings of former presidents, but the largest painting of all--it -was fairly Gargantuan--was of the pork merchant, a large, ruddy -gentleman, whom the artist, a keen observer, had painted -truly--complacently porcine, benevolently smug. - -The seniors and juniors sat in the nave, the sophomores on the right -side of the transept, the freshmen on the left. Hugh gazed upward in awe -at the dim recesses of the vaulted ceiling, at the ornately carved choir -where gowned students were quietly seating themselves, at the colored -light streaming through the beautiful windows, at the picture of the -pork merchant. The chapel bells ceased tolling; rich, solemn tones -swelled from the organ. - -President Culver in cap and gown, his purple hood falling over his -shoulders, entered followed by his faculty, also gowned and hooded. The -students rose and remained standing until the president and faculty were -seated. The organ sounded a final chord, and then the college chaplain -rose and prayed--very badly. He implored the Lord to look kindly "on -these young men who have come from near and far to drink from this great -fount of learning, this well of wisdom." - -The prayer over, the president addressed the students. He was a large, -erect man with iron-gray hair and a rugged intelligent face. Although he -was sixty years old, his body was vigorous and free from extra weight. -He spoke slowly and impressively, choosing his words with care and -enunciating them with great distinctness. His address was for the -freshmen: he welcomed them to Sanford College, to its splendid -traditions, its high ideals, its noble history. He spoke of the famous -men it numbered among its sons, of the work they had done for America -and the world, of the work he hoped future Sanford men, they, the -freshmen, would some day do for America and the world. He mentioned -briefly the boys from Sanford who had died in the World War "to make the -world safe for democracy," and he prayed that their sacrifice had not -been in vain. Finally, he spoke of the chapel service, which the -students were required to attend. He hoped that they would find -inspiration in it, knowledge and strength. He assured them that the -service would always be nonsectarian, that there would never be anything -in it to offend any one of any race, creed, or religion. With a last -exhortation to the freshmen to make the most of their great -opportunities, he ended with the announcement that they would rise and -sing the sixty-seventh hymn. - -Hugh was deeply impressed by the speech but disturbed by the students. -From where he sat he got an excellent view of the juniors and seniors. -The seniors, who sat in the front of the nave, seemed to be paying -fairly good attention; but the juniors--many of them, at least--paid no -attention at all. Some of them were munching apples, some doughnuts, and -many of them were reading "The Sanford News," the college's daily paper. -Some of the juniors talked during the president's address, and once he -noticed four of them doubled up as if overcome by laughter. To him the -service was a beautiful and impressive occasion. He could not understand -the conduct of the upper-classmen. It seemed, to put it mildly, -irreverent. - -Every one, however, sang the doxology with great vigor, some of the boys -lifting up a "whisky" tenor that made the chapel ring, and to which Hugh -happily added his own clear tenor. The benediction was pronounced by the -chaplain, the seniors marched out slowly in twos, while the other -students and the faculty stood in their places; then the president, -followed by the faculty, passed out of the great doors. When the back of -the last faculty gown had disappeared, the under-classmen broke for the -door, pushing each other aside, swearing when a toe was stepped on, -yelling to each other, some of them joyously chanting the doxology. Hugh -was caught in the rush and carried along with the mob, feeling ashamed -and distressed; this was no way to leave a church. - -Once outside, however, he had no time to think of the chapel service; he -had five minutes in which to get to his first class, and the building -was across the campus, a good two minutes' walk. He patted his cap to be -sure that it was firmly on the back of his head, clutched his note-book, -and ran as hard as he could go, the strolling upper-classmen, whom he -passed at top speed, grinning after him in tolerant amusement. - -Hugh was the first one in the class-room and wondered in a moment of -panic if he was in the right place. He sat down dubiously and looked at -his watch. Four minutes left. He would wait two, and then if nobody came -he would--he gasped; he couldn't imagine what he would do. How could he -find the right class-room? Maybe his class didn't come at this hour at -all. Suppose he and Carl had made a mistake. If they had, his whole -schedule was probably wrong. "Oh, golly," he thought, feeling pitifully -weak, "won't that be hell? What can I do?" - -At that moment a countrified-looking youth entered, looking as scared as -Hugh felt. His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he asked -timidly, "Do you know if this is Section Three of Math One?" - -Hugh was immediately strengthened. "I think so," he replied. "Anyhow, -let's wait and find out." - -The freshman sighed in huge relief, took out a not too clean -handkerchief, and mopped his face. "Criminy!" he exclaimed as he -wriggled down the aisle to a seat by Hugh, "I was sure worried. I -thought I was in the wrong building, though I was sure that my adviser -had told me positively that Math was in Matthew Six." - -"I guess we're all right," Hugh comforted him as two other freshmen, -also looking dubious, entered. They were followed by four more, and then -by a stampeding group, all of them pop-eyed, all of them in a rush. In -the next minute five freshmen dashed in and then dashed out again, -utterly bewildered, obviously terrified, and not knowing where to go or -what to do. "Is this Math One, Section Three?" every man demanded of the -room as he entered; and every one yelled, "Yes," or, "I think so." - -Just as the bell rang at ten minutes after the hour, the instructor -entered. It was Professor Kane. - -"This is Mathematics One, Section Three," Kane announced in a dry voice. -"If there is any one here who does not belong here, he will please -leave." Nobody moved; so he shuffled some cards in his hand and asked -the men to answer to the roll-call. - -"Adams, J.H." - -"Present, sir." - -Kane looked up and frowned. "Say 'here,'" he said severely. "This is not -a grammar-school." - -"Yes, sir," stuttered Adams, his face first white then purple. "Here, -sir." - -"'Here' will do; there is no need of the 'sir.' Allsop, K.E." - -"Here"--in a very faint voice. - -"Speak up!" - -"Here." This time a little louder. - -And so it went, hardly a man escaping without some admonishment. Hugh's -throat went dry; his tongue literally stuck to the roof of his mouth: he -was sure that he wouldn't be able to say "Here" when it came his turn, -and he could feel his heart pounding in dreadful anticipation. - -"Carver, H.M." - -"Here!" - -There! it was out! Or had he really said it? - -He looked at the professor in terror, but Kane was already calling, -"Dana, R.T." Hugh sank back in his chair; he was trembling. - -Kane announced the text-book, and when Hugh caught the word -"trigonometry" he actually thrilled with joy. He had had trig in high -school. Whoops! Would he hit Math I in the eye? He'd knock it for a -goal.... Then conscience spoke. Oughtn't he to tell Kane that he had -already had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood -his high-school credentials, which had given him credit for "advanced -mathematics." Kane had taken it for granted that that was advanced -algebra. Hugh felt that he ought to explain the mistake, but fear of the -arid, impersonal man restrained him. Kane had told him to take Math I; -and Kane was law. - -Unlike most of Hugh's instructors, Kane kept the class the full hour the -first day, seating them in alphabetical order--he had to repeat the -performance three times during the week as new men entered the -class--lecturing them on the need of doing their problems carefully and -accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonometry in -particular, in the study of science and engineering. Hugh was not -interested in science, engineering, or mathematics, but he listened -carefully, trying hard to follow Kane's cold discourse. At the end of -the hour he told his neighbor as they left the room that he guessed that -Professor Kane knew an awful lot, and his neighbor agreed with him. - -Hugh's other instructors proved less impressive than Kane; in fact, Mr. -Alling, the instructor in Latin, was altogether disconcerting. - -"Plautus," he told the class, "wrote comedies, farces--not exercises in -translation. He was also, my innocents, occasionally naughty--oh, really -naughty. What's worse, he used slang, common every-day slang--the kind -of stuff that you and I talk. Now, I have an excellent vocabulary of -slang, obscenity, and profanity; and you are going to hear most of it. -Think of the opportunity. Don't think that I mean just 'damn' and -'hell.' They are good for a laugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was -not restrained by our modern conventions. _You_ will confine yourselves, -please, to English undefiled, but I shall speak the modern equivalent to -a Roman gutter-pup's language whenever necessary. You will find this -course very illuminating--in some ways. And, who knows? you may learn -something not only about Latin but about Rome." - -Hugh thought Mr. Alling was rather flippant and lacking in dignity. -Professor Kane was more like a college teacher. Before the term was out -he hated Kane with an intensity that astonished him, and he looked -forward to his Latin classes with an eagerness of which he was almost -ashamed. Plautus in the Alling free and colloquial translations was -enormously funny. - -Professor Hartley, who gave the history lectures, talked in a bass -monotone and never seemed to pause for breath. His words came in a slow -steady stream that never rose nor fell nor paused--until the bell rang. -The men in the back of the room slept. Hugh was seated near the front; -so he drew pictures in his note-book. The English instructor talked -about punctuation as if it were very unpleasant but almost religiously -important; and what the various lecturers in general science talked -about--ten men gave the course--Hugh never knew. In after years all that -he could remember about the course was that one man spoke broken English -and that a professor of physics had made huge bulbs glow with marvelous -colors. - -Hugh had one terrifying experience before he finally got settled to his -work. It occurred the second day of classes. He was comfortably seated -in what he thought was his English class--he had come in just as the -bell rang--when the instructor announced that it was a class in French. -What was he to do? What would the instructor do if he got up and left -the room? What would happen if he didn't report at his English class? -What would happen to him for coming into his English class late? These -questions staggered his mind. He was afraid to stay in the French class. -Cautiously he got up and began to tiptoe to the door. - -"Wrong room?" the instructor asked pleasantly. - -Hugh flushed. "Yes, sir." He stopped dead still, not knowing what to do -next. - -He was a typical rattled freshman, and the class, which was composed of -sophomores, laughed. Hugh, angry and humiliated, started for the door, -but the instructor held up a hand that silenced the class; then he -motioned for Hugh to come to his desk. - -"What class are you looking for?" - -"English One, sir, Section Seven." He held out his schedule card, -reassured by the instructor's kindly manner. - -The instructor looked at the card and then consulted a printed schedule. - -"Oh," he said, "your adviser made a mistake. He got you into the wrong -group list. You belong in Sanders Six." - -"Thank you, sir." Hugh spoke so softly that the waiting class did not -hear him, but the instructor smiled at the intensity of his thanks. As -he left the room, he knew that every one was looking at him; his legs -felt as if they were made of wood. It wasn't until he had closed the -door that his knee-joints worked naturally. But the worst was still -ahead of him. He had to go to his English class in Sanders 6. He ran -across the campus, his heart beating wildly, his hands desperately -clenched. When he reached Sanders 6, he found three other freshmen -grouped before the door. - -"Is this English One, Section Seven?" one asked tremulously. - -"I think so," whispered the second. "Do you know?" he asked, turning to -Hugh. - -"Yes; I am almost sure." - -They stood there looking at each other, no one quite daring to enter -Sanders 6, no one quite daring to leave. Suddenly the front door of the -building slammed. A bareheaded youth rushed up the stairs. He was a -repeater; that is, a man who had failed the course the preceding year -and was taking it over again. He brushed by the scared freshmen, opened -the door, and strode into Sanders 6, closing the door behind him. - -The freshmen looked at each other, and then the one nearest the door -opened it. The four of them filed in silently. - -The class looked up. "Sit in the back of the room," said the instructor. - -And that was all there was to that. In his senior year Hugh remembered -the incident and wondered at his terror. He tried to remember why he had -been so badly frightened. He couldn't; there didn't seem to be any -reason at all. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -About a week after the opening of college, Hugh returned to Surrey Hall -one night feeling unusually virtuous and happy. He had worked -religiously at the library until it had closed at ten, and he had been -in the mood to study. His lessons for the next day were all prepared, -and prepared well. He had strolled across the moon-lit campus, buoyant -and happy. Some one was playing the organ in the dark chapel; he paused -to listen. Two students passed him, humming softly, - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true...." - - -The dormitories were dim masses broken by rectangles of soft yellow -light. Somewhere a banjo twanged. Another student passed. - -"Hello, Carver," he said pleasantly. "Nice night." - -"Oh, hello, Jones. It sure is." - -The simple greeting completed his happiness. He felt that he belonged, -that Sanford, the "mother of men," had taken him to her heart. The music -in the chapel swelled, lyric, passionate--up! up! almost a cry. The -moonlight was golden between the heavy shadows of the elms. Tears came -into the boy's eyes; he was melancholy with joy. - -He climbed the stairs of Surrey slowly, reluctant to reach his room and -Carl's flippancy. He passed an open door and glanced at the men inside -the room. - -"Hi, Hugh. Come in and bull a while." - -"Not to-night, thanks." He moved on down the hall, feeling a vague -resentment; his mood had been broken, shattered. - -The door opposite his own room was slightly open. A freshman lived -there, Herbert Morse, a queer chap with whom Carl and Hugh had succeeded -in scraping up only the slightest acquaintance. He was a big fellow, -fully six feet, husky and quick. The football coach said that he had the -makings of a great half-back, but he had already been fired off the -squad because of his irregularity in reporting for practice. Except for -what the boys called his stand-offishness--some of them said that he was -too damned high-hat--he was extremely attractive. He had red, almost -copper-colored, hair, and an exquisite skin, as delicate as a child's. -His features were well carved, his nose slightly aquiline--a magnificent -looking fellow, almost imperious; or as Hugh once said to Carl, "Morse -looks kinda noble." - -As Hugh placed his hand on the door-knob of No 19, he heard something -that sounded suspiciously like a sob from across the hall. He paused and -listened. He was sure that he could hear some one crying. - -"Wonder what's wrong," he thought, instantly disturbed and sympathetic. - -He crossed the hall and tapped lightly on Morse's door. There was no -answer; nor was there any when he tapped a second time. For a moment he -was abashed, and then he pushed open the door and entered Morse's room. - -In the far corner Morse was sitting at his, desk, his head buried in his -arms, his shoulders shaking. He was crying fiercely, terribly; at times -his whole body jerked in the violence of his sobbing. - -Hugh stood by the door embarrassed and rather frightened. Morse's grief -brought a lump to his throat. He had never seen any one cry like that -before. Something had to be done. But what could he do? He had no right -to intrude on Morse, but he couldn't let the poor fellow go on suffering -like that. As he stood there hesitant, shaken, Morse buried his head -deeper in his arms, moaned convulsively, twisting and trembling after a -series of sobs that seemed to tear themselves from him. That was too -much for Hugh. He couldn't stand it. Some force outside of him sent him -across the room to Morse. He put his hand on a quivering shoulder and -said gently: - -"What is it, Morse? What's the matter?" - -Morse ran his hand despairingly through his red hair, shook his head, -and made no answer. - -"Come on, old man; buck up." Hugh's voice trembled; it was husky with -sympathy. "Tell me about it. Maybe I can help." - -Then Morse looked up, his face stained with tears, his eyes inflamed, -almost desperate. He stared at Hugh wonderingly. For an instant he was -angry at the intrusion, but his anger passed at once. He could not miss -the tenderness and sympathy in Hugh's face; and the boy's hand was still -pressing with friendly insistence on his shoulder. There was something -so boyishly frank, so clean and honest about Hugh that his irritation -melted into confidence; and he craved a confidant passionately. - -"Shut the door," he said dully, and reached into his trousers pocket for -his handkerchief. He mopped his face and eyes vigorously while Hugh was -closing the door, and then blew his nose as if he hated it. But the -tears continued to come, and all during his talk with Hugh he had to -pause occasionally to dry his eyes. - -Hugh stood awkwardly in the middle of the rug, not knowing whether to -sit down or not. Morse was clutching his handkerchief in his hand and -staring at the floor. Finally he spoke up. - -"Sit down," he said in a dead voice, "there." - -Hugh sank into the chair Morse indicated and then gripped his hands -together. He felt weak and frightened, and absolutely unable to say -anything. But Morse saved him the trouble. - -"I suppose you think I am an awful baby," he began, his voice thick with -tears, "but I just can't help it. I--I just can't help it. I don't want -to cry, but I do." And then he added defiantly, "Go ahead and think I'm -a baby if you want to." - -"I don't think you're a baby," Hugh said softly; "I'm just sorry; that's -all.... I hope I can help." He smiled shyly, hopefully. - -His smile conquered Morse. "You're a good kid, Carver," he cried -impulsively. "A darn good kid. I like you, and I'm going to tell you all -about it. And I--I--I won't care if you laugh." - -"I won't laugh," Hugh promised, relieved to think that there was a -possibility of laughing. The trouble couldn't be so awfully bad. - -Morse blew his nose, stuck his handkerchief into his pocket, pulled it -out again and dabbed his eyes, returned it to his pocket, and suddenly -stood up. - -"I'm homesick!" he blurred out. "I'm--I'm homesick, damned homesick. -I've been homesick ever since I arrived. I--I just can't stand it." - -For an instant Hugh did have a wild desire to laugh. Part of the desire -was caused by nervous relief, but part of it was caused by what seemed -to him the absurdity of the situation: a big fellow like Morse -blubbering, bawling for home and mother! - -"You can't know," Morse went on, "how awful it is--awful! I want to cry -all the time. I can't listen in classes. A prof asked me a question -to-day, and I didn't know what he had been talking about. He asked me -what he had said. I had to say I didn't know. The whole class laughed, -and the prof asked me why I had come to college. God! I nearly died." - -Hugh's sympathy was all captured again. He knew that he _would_ die if -he ever made a fool of himself in the class-room. - -"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "What did you say?" - -"Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. For a minute I thought that my -head was going to bust. He quit razzing me and I tried to pay attention, -but I couldn't; all I could do was think of home. Lord! I wish I was -there!" He mopped at his eyes and paced up and down the room nervously. - -"Oh, you'll get over that," Hugh said comfortingly. "Pretty soon you'll -get to know lots of fellows, and then you won't mind about home." - -"That's what I keep telling myself, but it don't work. I can't eat or -sleep. I can't study. I can't do anything. I tell you I've got to go -home. I've _got_ to!" This last with desperate emphasis. - -Hugh smiled. "You're all wrong," he asserted positively. "You're just -lonely; that's all. I bet that you'll be crazy about college in a -month--same as the rest of us. When you feel blue, come in and see -Peters and me. We'll make you grin; Peters will, anyway. You can't be -blue around him." - -Morse sat down. "You don't understand. I'm not lonely. It isn't that. I -could talk to fellows all day long if I wanted to. I don't want to talk -to 'em. I can't. There's just one person that I want to talk to, and -that's my mother." He shot the word "mother" out defiantly and glared at -Hugh, silently daring him to laugh, which Hugh had sense enough not to -do, although he wanted to strongly. The great big baby, wanting his -mother! Why, he wanted his mother, too, but he didn't cry about it. - -"That's all right," he said reassuringly; "you'll see her Christmas -vacation, and that isn't very long off." - -"I want to see her now!" Morse jumped to his feet and raised his -clenched hands above his head. "Now!" he roared. "Now! I've got to. I'm -going home on the midnight." He whirled about to his desk and began to -pull open the drawers, piling their contents on the top. - -"Here!" Hugh rushed to him and clutched his arms. "Don't do that." Morse -struggled, angry at the restraining hands, ready to strike them off. -Hugh had a flash of inspiration. "Think how disappointed your mother -will be," he cried, hanging on to Morse's arms; "think of her." - -Morse ceased struggling. "She will be disappointed," he admitted -miserably. "What can I do?" There was a world of despair in his -question. - -Hugh pushed him into the desk-chair and seated himself on the edge of -the desk. "I'll tell you," he said. He talked for half an hour, cheering -Morse, assuring him that his homesickness would pass away, offering to -study with him. At first Morse paid little attention, but finally he -quit sniffing and looked up, real interest in his face. When Hugh got a -weak smile out of him, he felt that his work had been done. He jumped -off the desk, leaned over to slap Morse on the back, and told him that -he was a good egg but a damn fool. - -Morse grinned. "You're a good egg yourself," he said gratefully. "You've -saved my life." - -Hugh was pleased and blushed. "You're full of bull.... Remember, we do -Latin at ten to-morrow." He opened the door. "Good night." - -"Good night." And Hugh heard as he closed the door. "Thanks a lot." - -When he opened his own door, he found Carl sitting before a blazing log -fire. There was no other light in the room. Carl had written his nightly -letter to the "old lady," and he was a little homesick himself--softened -into a tender and pensive mood. He did not move as Hugh sat down in a -big chair on the other side of the hearth and said softly, "Thinking?" - -"Un-huh. Where you been?" - -"Across the hall in Morse's room." Then as Carl looked up in surprise, -he told him of his experience with their red-headed neighbor. "He'll get -over it," he concluded confidently. "He's just been lonely." - -Carl puffed contemplatively at his pipe for a few minutes before -replying. Hugh waited, watching the slender boy stretched out in a big -chair before the fire, his ankles crossed, his face gentle and boyish in -the ruddy, flickering light. The shadows, heavy and wavering, played -magic with the room; it was vast, mysterious. - -"No," said Carl, pausing again to puff his pipe; "no, he won't get over -it. He'll go home." - -"Aw, shucks. A big guy like that isn't going to stay a baby all his -life." Hugh was frankly derisive. "Soon as he gets to know a lot of -fellows, he'll forget home and mother." - -Carl smiled vaguely, his eyes dreamy as he gazed into the hypnotizing -flames. The mask of sophistication had slipped off his face; he was -pleasantly in the control of a gentle mood, a mood that erased the last -vestige of protective coloring. - -He shook his head slowly. "You don't understand, Hugh. Morse is sick, -_sick_--not lonesome. He's got something worse than flu. Nobody can -stand what he's got." - -Hugh looked at him in bewilderment. This was a new Carl, some one he -hadn't met before. Gone was the slang flippancy, the hard roughness. -Even his voice was softened. - -Carl knocked his pipe empty on the knob of an andiron, sank deeper into -his chair, and began to speak slowly. - -"I think I'm going to tell you a thing or two about myself. We've got to -room together, and I--well, I like you. You're a good egg, but you don't -get me at all. I guess you've never run up against anybody like me -before." He paused. Hugh said nothing, afraid to break into Carl's mood. -He was intensely curious. He leaned forward and watched Carl, who was -staring dreamily into the fire. - -"I told you once, I think," he continued, "that my old man had left us a -lot of jack. That's true. We're rich, awfully rich. I have my own -account and can spend as much as I like. The sky's the limit. What I -didn't tell you is that we're _nouveau riche_--no class at all. My old -man made all his money the first year of the war. He was a -commission-merchant, a middleman. Money just rolled in, I guess. He -bought stocks with it, and they boomed; and he had sense enough to sell -them when they were at the top. Six years ago we didn't have hardly -anything. Now we're rich." - -"My old man was a good scout, but he didn't have much education; neither -has the old lady. Both of 'em went through grammar-school; that's all." - -"Well, they knew they weren't real folks, not regular people, and they -wanted me to be. See? That's why they sent me to Kane. Well, Kane isn't -strong for _nouveau riche_ kids, not by a damn sight. At first old -Simmonds--he's the head master--wouldn't take me, said that he didn't -have room; but my old man begged and begged, so finally Simmonds said -all right." - -Again he paused, and Hugh waited. Carl was speaking so softly that he -had trouble in hearing him, but somehow he didn't dare to ask him to -speak louder. - -"I sha'n't forget the day," Carl went on, "that the old man left me at -Kane. I was scared, and I didn't want to stay. But he made me; he said -that Kane would make a gentleman out of me. I was homesick, homesick as -hell. I know how Morse feels. I tried to run away three times, but they -caught me and brought me back. Cry? I bawled all the time when I was -alone. I couldn't sleep for weeks; I just laid in bed and bawled. God! -it was awful. The worst of it was the meals. I didn't know how to eat -right, you see, and the master who sat at the table with our form would -correct me. I used to want to die, and sometimes I would say that I was -sick and didn't want any food so that I wouldn't have to go to meals. -The fellows razzed the life out of me; some of 'em called me Paddy. The -reason I came here to Sanford was that no Kane fellows come here. They -go mostly to Williams, but some of 'em go to Yale or Princeton. - -"Well, I had four years of that, and I was homesick the whole four -years. Oh, I don't mean that they kept after me all the time--that was -just the first few months--but they never really accepted me. I never -felt at home. Even when I was with a bunch of them, I felt lonesome.... -And they never made a gentleman out of me, though my old lady thinks -they did." - -"You're crazy," Hugh interrupted indignantly. "You're as much a -gentleman as anybody in college." - -Carl smiled and shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You're a -gentleman, but I'm not. Oh, I know all the tricks, the parlor stunts. -Four years at Kane taught me those, but they're just tricks to me. I -don't know just how to explain it--but I know that you're a gentleman -and I'm not." - -"You're just plain bug-house. You make me feel like a fish. Why, I'm -just from a country high school. I'm not in your class." Hugh sat up -and leaned eagerly toward Carl, gesticulating excitedly. - -"As if that made any difference," Carl replied, his voice sharp with -scorn. "You see, I'm a bad egg. I drink and gamble and pet. I haven't -gone the limit yet on--on account of my old lady--but I will." - -Hugh was relieved. He had wondered more than once during the past week -"just how far Carl had gone." Several times Carl had suggested by sly -innuendos that there wasn't anything that he hadn't done, and Hugh had -felt a slight disapproval--and considerable envy. His own standards were -very high, very strict, but he was ashamed to reveal them. - -"I've never gone the limit either," he confessed shyly. - -Carl threw back his head and laughed. "You poor fish; don't you suppose -I know that?" he exclaimed. - -"How did you know?" Hugh demanded indignantly. "I might've. Why, I was -out with a girl just before I left home and--" - -"You kissed her," Carl concluded for him. "I don't know how I knew, but -I did. You're just kinda pure; that's all. I'm not pure at all; I'm just -a little afraid--and I keep thinkin' of my old lady. I've started to -several times, but I've always thought of her and quit." - -He sat silent for a minute or two and then continued more gently. "My -old lady never came to Kane. She never will come here, either. She wants -to give me a real chance. See? She knows she isn't a lady--but--but, oh, -God, Hugh, she's white, white as hell. I guess I think more of her than -all the rest of the world put together. That's why I write to her every -night. She writes to me every day, too. The letters have mistakes in -them, but--but they keep me straight. That is, they have so far. I know, -though, that some night I'll be out with a bag and get too much liquor -in me--and then good-by, virginity." - -"You're crazy, Carl. You know you won't." Carl rose from the chair and -stretched hugely. "You're a good egg, Hugh," he said in the midst of a -yawn, "but you're a damn fool." - -Hugh started. That was just what he had said to Morse. - - * * * * * - -He never caught Carl in a confidential mood again. The next morning he -was his old flippant self, swearing because he had to study his Latin, -which wasn't "of any damned use to anybody." - -In the following weeks Hugh religiously clung to Morse, helped him with -his work, went to the movies with him, inveigled him into going on -several long walks. Morse was more cheerful and almost pathetically -grateful. One day, however, Hugh found an unstamped letter on the -floor. He opened it wonderingly. - - - Dear Hugh [he read]. You've been awfully good to me but - I can't stand it. I'm going home to-day. Give my regards - to Peters. Thanks for all you've done for me. - - BERT MORSE. - - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -For a moment after reading Morse's letter Hugh was genuinely sorry, but -almost immediately he felt irritated and hurt. - -He handed the letter to Carl, who entered just as he finished reading -it, and exploded: "The simp! And after I wasted so much time on him." - -Carl read the letter. "I told you so." He smiled impishly. "You were the -wise boy; you _knew_ that he would get over it." - -Hugh should really have felt grateful to Morse. It was only a feeling of -responsibility for him that had made Hugh prepare his own lessons. Day -after day he had studied with Morse in order to cheer him up; and that -was all the studying he had done. Latin and history had little -opportunity to claim his interest in competition with the excitement -around him. - -Crossing the campus for the first few weeks of college was an adventure -for every freshman. He did not know when he would be seized by a howling -group of sophomores and forced to make an ass of himself for their -amusement. Sometimes he was required to do "esthetic dancing," sometimes -to sing, or, what was more common, to make a speech. And no matter how -hard he tried, the sophomores were never pleased. If he danced, they -laughed at him, guyed him unmercifully, called attention to his legs, -his awkwardness, urged him to go faster, insisted that he get some -"pash" into it. If he sang, and the frightened freshman usually sang off -key, they interrupted him after a few notes, told him to sing something -else, interrupted that, and told him "for God's sake" to dance. The -speech-making, however, provided the most fun, especially if the -freshman was cleverer than his captors. Then there was a battle of wits, -and if the freshman too successfully defeated his opponents, he was -dropped into a watering-trough that had stood on the campus for more -than a century. Of justice there was none, but of sport there was a -great plenty. The worst scared of the freshmen really enjoyed the -experience. By a strange sort of inverted logic, he felt that he was -something of a hero; at least, for a brief time he had occupied the -public eye. He had been initiated; he was a Sanford man. - -One freshman, however, found those two weeks harrowing. That was Merton -Billings, the fat man of the class. Day after day he was captured by the -sophomores and commanded to dance. He was an earnest youth and entirely -without a sense of humor. Dancing to him was not only hard work but -downright wicked. He was a member of the Epworth League, and he took his -membership seriously. Even David, he remembered, had "got in wrong" -because he danced; and he had no desire to emulate David. Within two -days the sophomores discovered his religious ardor, his horror of -drinking, smoking, and dancing. So they made him dance while they howled -with glee at his bobbing stomach; his short, staggering legs; his red -jowls, jigging and jouncing; his pale blue eyes, protruding excitedly -from their sockets; his lips pressed tight together, periodically -popping open for breath. He was very funny, very angry, and very much -ashamed. Every night he prayed that he might be forgiven his sin. A -month later when the intensity of his hatred had subsided somewhat, he -remembered to his horror that he had not prayed that his tormentors be -forgiven their even greater sin. He rectified the error without delay, -not neglecting to ask that the error be forgiven, too. - -Hugh was forced to sing, to dance, and to make a speech, but he escaped -the watering-trough. He thought the fellows were darned nice to let him -off, and they thought that he was too darned nice to be ducked. Although -Hugh didn't suspect it, he was winning immediate popularity. His shy, -friendly smile, his natural modesty, and his boyish enthusiasm were -making a host of friends for him. He liked the "initiations" on the -campus, but he did not like some of them in the dormitories. He didn't -mind being pulled out of bed and shoved under a cold shower. He took a -cold shower every morning, and if the sophomores wanted to give him -another one at night--all right, he was willing. He had to confess that -"Eliza Crossing the Ice" had been enormous fun. The freshmen were -commanded to appear in the common room in their oldest clothes. Then all -of them, the smallest lad excepted, got down on their hands and knees, -forming a circle. The smallest lad, "Eliza," was given a big bucket full -of water. He jumped upon the back of the man nearest to him and ran -wildly around the circle, leaping from back to back, the bucket swinging -crazily, the water splashing in every direction and over everybody. - -Hugh liked such "stunts," and he liked putting on a show with three -other freshmen for the amusement of their peers, but he did object to -the vulgarity and cruelty of much that was done. - -The first order the sophomores often gave was, "Strip, freshman." Just -why the freshmen had to be naked before they performed, Hugh did not -know, but there was something phallic about the proceedings that -disgusted him. Like every athlete, he thought nothing of nudity, but he -soon discovered that some of the freshmen were intensely conscious of -it. True, a few months in the gymnasium cured them of that -consciousness, but at first many of them were eternally wrapping towels -about themselves in the gymnasium, and they took a shower as if it were -an act of public shame. The sophomores recognized the timidity that some -of the freshmen had in revealing their bodies, and they made full -capital of it. The shyer the freshman, the more pointed their remarks, -the more ingeniously nasty their tricks. - -"I don't mind the razzing myself," Hugh told Carl after one particularly -strenuous evening, "but I don't like the things they said to poor little -Wilkins. And when they stripped 'em and made Wilkins read that dirty -story to Culver, I wanted to fight" - -"It was kinda rotten," Carl agreed, "but it was funny." - -"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh said angrily. - -Carl looked at him in surprise. It was the first time that he had seen -him aroused. - -"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh repeated; "it was just filthy. I'd 'a' -just about died if I'd 'a' been in Wilkins's place. The poor kid! -They're too damn dirty, these sophomores. I didn't think that college -men could be so dirty. Why, not even the bums at home would think of -such things. And I'm telling you right now that there are three of those -guys that I'm layin' for. Just wait till the class rush. I'm going to -get Adams, and then I'm going to get Cooper--yes, I'm going to get him -even if he is bigger'n me--and I'm going to get Dodge. I didn't say -anything when they made me wash my face in the toilet bowl, but, by God! -I'm going to get 'em for it." - -Three weeks later he made good this threat. He was a clever boxer, and -he succeeded in separating each of the malefactors from the fighting -mob. He would have been completely nonplussed if he could have heard -Adams and Dodge talking in their room after the rush. - -"Who gave you the black eye?" Adams asked Dodge. - -"That freshman Carver," he replied, touching the eye gingerly. "Who gave -you that welt on the chin?" - -"Carver! And, say, he beat Hi Cooper to a pulp. He's a mess." - -They looked at each other and burst out laughing. - -"Lord," said Dodge, "I'm going to pick my freshmen next time. Who'd take -a kid with a smile like his to be a scrapper? He's got the nicest smile -in college. Why, he looks meek as a lamb." - -"You never can tell," remarked Adams, rubbing his chin ruefully. - -Dodge was examining his eye in the mirror. "No, you never can tell.... -Damn it, I'm going to have to get a beefsteak or something for this lamp -of mine." - -"Say, he ought to be a good man for the fraternity," Adams said -suddenly. - -"Who?" Dodge's eye was absorbing his entire attention. - -"Carver, of course. He ought to make a damn good man." - -"Yeah--you bet. We've got to rush him sure." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -The dormitory initiations had more than angered Hugh; they had -completely upset his mental equilibrium: his every ideal of college -swayed and wabbled. He wasn't a prig, but he had come to Sanford with -very definite ideas about the place, and those ideas were already groggy -from the unmerciful pounding they were receiving. - -His father was responsible for his illusions, if one may call them -illusions. Mr. Carver was a shy, sensitive man well along in his -fifties, with a wife twelve years his junior. He pretended to cultivate -his small farm in Merrytown, but as a matter of fact he lived off of a -comfortable income left him by his very capable father. He spent most of -his time reading the eighteenth-century essayists, John Donne's poetry, -the "Atlantic Monthly," the "Boston Transcript," and playing Mozart on -his violin. He did not understand his wife and was thoroughly afraid of -his son; Hugh had an animal vigor that at times almost terrified him. - -At his wife's insistence he had a talk with Hugh the night before the -boy left for college. Hugh had wanted to run when he met his father in -the library after dinner for that talk. He loved the gentle, gray-haired -man with the fine, delicate features and soft voice. He had often wished -that he knew his father. Mr. Carver was equally eager to know Hugh, but -he had no idea of how to go about getting acquainted with his son. - -They sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, and Mr. Carver gazed -thoughtfully at the boy. Why hadn't Betty had this talk with Hugh? She -knew him so much better than he did; they were more like brother and -sister than mother and son. Why, Hugh called her Betty half the time, -and she seemed to understand him perfectly. - -Hugh waited silently. Mr. Carver ran a thin hand through his hair and -then sharply desisted; he mustn't let the boy know that he was nervous. -Then he settled his horn-rimmed pince-nez more firmly on his nose and -felt in his waistcoat for a cigar. Why didn't Hugh say something? He -snipped the end of the cigar with a silver knife. Slowly he lighted the -cigar, inhaled once or twice, coughed mildly, and finally found his -voice. - -"Well, Hugh," he said in his gentle way. - -"Well, Dad." Hugh grinned sheepishly. Then they both started; Hugh had -never called his father Dad before. He thought of him that way always, -but he could never bring himself to dare anything but the more formal -Father. In his embarrassment he had forgotten himself. - -"I--I--I'm sorry, sir," he stuttered, flushing painfully. - -Mr. Carver laughed to hide his own embarrassment. "That's all right, -Hugh." His smile was very kindly. "Let it be Dad. I think I like it -better." - -"That's fine!" Hugh exclaimed. - -The tension was broken, and Mr. Carver began to give the dreaded talk. - -"I hardly know what to say to you, Hugh," he began, "on the eve of your -going away to college. There is so much that you ought to know, and I -have no idea of how much you know already." - -Hugh thought of all the smutty stories he had heard--and told. -Instinctively he knew that his father referred to what a local doctor -called "the facts of life." - -He hung his head and said gruffly, "I guess I know a good deal--Dad." - -"That's splendid!" Mr. Carver felt the full weight of a father's -responsibilities lifted from his shoulders. "I believe Dr. Hanson gave -you a talk at school about--er, sex, didn't he?" - -"Yes, sir." Hugh was picking out the design in the rug with the toe of -his shoe and at the same time unconsciously pinching his leg. He pinched -so hard that he afterward found a black and blue spot, but he never -knew how it got there. - -"Excellent thing, excellent thing, these talks by medical men." He was -beginning to feel at ease. "Excellent thing. I am glad that you are so -well informed; you are old enough." - -Hugh wasn't well informed; he was pathetically ignorant. Most of what he -knew had come from the smutty stories, and he often did not understand -the stories that he laughed at most heartily. He was consumed with -curiosity. - -"If there is anything you want to know, don't hesitate to ask," his -father continued. He had a moment of panic lest Hugh would ask -something, but the boy merely shook his head--and pinched his leg. - -Mr. Carver puffed his cigar in great relief. "Well," he continued, "I -don't want to give you much advice, but your mother feels that I ought -to tell you a little more about college before you leave. As I have told -you before, Sanford is a splendid place, a--er, a splendid place. Fine -old traditions and all that sort of thing. Splendid place. You will find -a wonderful faculty, wonderful. Most of the professors I had are gone, -but I am sure that the new ones are quite as good. Your opportunities -will be enormous, and I am sure that you will take advantage of them. We -have been very proud of your high school record, your mother and I, and -we know that you will do quite as well in college. By the way, I hope -you take a course in the eighteenth-century essayists; you will find -them very stimulating--Addison especially. - -"I--er, your mother feels that I ought to say something about the -dissipations of college. I--I'm sure that I don't know what to say. I -suppose that there are young men in college who dissipate--remember that -I knew one or two--but certainly most of them are gentlemen. Crude -men--vulgarians do not commonly go to college. Vulgarity has no place in -college. You may, I presume, meet some men not altogether admirable, but -it will not be necessary for you to know them. Now, as to the -fraternity...." - -Hugh forgot to pinch his leg and looked up with avid interest in his -face. The Nu Deltas! - -Mr. Carver leaned forward to stir the fire with a brass poker before he -continued. Then he settled back in his chair and smoked comfortably. He -was completely at ease now. The worst was over. - -"I have written to the Nu Deltas about you and told them that I hoped -that they would find you acceptable, as I am sure they will. As a -legacy, you will be among the first considered." For an hour more he -talked about the fraternity. Hugh, his embarrassment swallowed by his -interest, eagerly asking questions. His father's admiration for the -fraternity was second only to his admiration for the college, and -before the evening was over he had filled Hugh with an idolatry for -both. - -He left his father that night feeling closer to him than he ever had -before. He was going to be a college man like his father--perhaps a Nu -Delta, too. He wished that they had got chummy before. When he went to -bed, he lay awake dreaming, thinking sometimes of Helen Simpson and of -how he had kissed her that afternoon, but more often of Sanford and Nu -Delta. He was so deeply grateful to his father for talking to him -frankly and telling him everything about college. He was darned lucky to -have a father who was a college grad and could put him wise. It was -pretty tough on the fellows whose fathers had never been to college. -Poor fellows, they didn't know the ropes the way he did.... - -He finally fell off to sleep, picturing himself in the doorway of the Nu -Delta house welcoming his father to a reunion. - -That talk was returning to Hugh repeatedly. He wondered if Sanford had -changed since his father's day or if his father had just forgotten what -college was like. Everything seemed so different from what he had been -told to expect. Perhaps he was just soft and some of the fellows weren't -as crude as he thought they were. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -Hugh was by no means continuously depressed; as a matter of fact, most -of the time he was agog with delight, especially over the rallies that -were occurring with increasing frequency as the football season -progressed. Sometimes the rallies were carefully prepared ceremonies -held in the gymnasium; sometimes they were entirely spontaneous. - -A group of men would rush out of a dormitory or fraternity house -yelling, "Peerade, peerade!" Instantly every one within hearing would -drop his books--or his cards--and rush to the yelling group, which would -line up in fours and begin circling the campus, the line ever getting -longer as more men came running out of the dormitories and fraternity -houses. On, on they would go, arm in arm, dancing, singing Sanford -songs, past every dormitory on the campus, past every fraternity -house--pausing occasionally to give a cheer, always, however, keeping -one goal in mind, the fraternity house where the team lived during the -football season. Then when the cheer-leaders and the team were heading -the procession, the mob would make for the football field, with the cry -of "Wood, freshmen, wood!" ringing down the line. - -Hugh was always one of the first freshmen to break from the line in his -eagerness to get wood. In an incredibly short time he and his classmates -had found a large quantity of old lumber, empty boxes, rotten planks, -and not very rotten gates. When a light was applied to the clumsy pile -of wood, the flames leaped up quickly--some one always seemed to have a -supply of kerosene ready--and revealed the excited upper-classmen -sitting on the bleachers. - -"Dance, freshmen, dance!" - -Then the freshmen danced around the fire, holding hands and spreading -into an ever widening circle as the fire crackled and the flames leaped -upward. Slowly, almost impressively, the upper-classmen chanted: - - - "Round the fire, the freshmen go, - Freshmen go, - Freshmen go; - Round the fire the freshmen go - To cheer Sanford." - - -The song had a dozen stanzas, only the last line of each being -different. The freshmen danced until the last verse was sung, which -ended with the Sanford cheer: - - - "Closer now the freshmen go, - Freshmen go, - Freshmen go; - Closer now the freshmen go - To cheer-- - - SANFORD! - Sanford! Rah, rah! - Sanford! Sanford! - San--San--San-- - San--ford, San--ford--San--FORD!" - - -While the upper-classmen were singing the last stanza the freshmen -slowly closed in on the dying fire. At the first word of the cheer, they -stopped, turned toward the grand stand, and joined the cheering. That -over, they broke and ran for the bleachers, scrambling up the wooden -stands, shoving each other out of the way, laughing and shouting. - -The football captain usually made a short and very awkward speech, which -was madly applauded; perhaps the coach said a few words; two or three -cheers were given; and finally every one rose, took off his hat if he -wore one--nearly every one but the freshmen went bareheaded--and sang -the college hymn, simply and religiously. Then the crowd broke, -straggling in groups across the campus, chatting, singing, shouting to -each other. Suddenly lights began to flash in the dormitory windows. In -less than an hour after the first cry of "Peerade!" the men were back -in their rooms, once more studying, talking, or playing cards. - -It was the smoker rallies, though, that Hugh found the most thrilling, -especially the last one before the final game of the season, the "big -game" with Raleigh College. There were 1123 students in Sanford, and -more than 1000 were at the rally. A rough platform had been built at one -end of the gymnasium. On one side of it sat the band, on the other side -the Glee Club--and before it the mass of students, smoking cigarettes, -corn-cob pipes, and, occasionally, a cigar. The "smokes" had been -furnished free by a local tobacconist; so everybody smoked violently and -too much. In half an hour it was almost impossible to see the ceiling -through the dull blue haze, and the men in the rear of the gymnasium saw -the speakers on the platform dimly through a wavering mist. - -The band played various Sanford songs, and everybody sang. Occasionally -Wayne Gifford, the cheer-leader, leaped upon the platform, raised a -megaphone to his mouth, and shouted, "A regular cheer for Sanford--a -regular cheer for Sanford." Then he lifted his arms above his head, -flinging the megaphone aside with the same motion, and waited tense and -rigid until the students were on their feet. Suddenly he turned into a -mad dervish, twisting, bending, gesticulating, leaping, running back and -forth across the platform, shouting, and finally throwing his hands -above his head and springing high into the air at the concluding -"San--FORD!" - -The Glee Club sang to mad applause; a tenor twanged a ukulele and moaned -various blues; a popular professor told stories, some of them funny, -most of them slightly off color; a former cheer-leader told of the -triumphs of former Sanford teams--and the atmosphere grew denser and -denser, bluer and bluer, as the smoke wreathed upward. The thousand boys -leaned intently forward, occasionally jumping to their feet to shout and -cheer, and then sinking back into their chairs, tense and excited. As -each speaker mounted the platform they shouted: "Off with your coat! Off -with your coat!" And the speakers, even the professor, had to shed their -coats before they were permitted to say a word. - -When the team entered, bedlam broke loose. Every student stood on his -chair, waved his arms, slapped his neighbor on the back or hugged him -wildly, threw his hat in the air, if he had one--and, so great was his -training, keeping an eye on the cheer-leader, who was on the platform -going through a series of indescribable contortions. Suddenly he -straightened up, held his hands above his head again, and shouted -through his megaphone: "A regular cheer for the team--a regular cheer -for the team. Make it big--BIG! Ready--!" Away whirled the megaphone, -and he went through exactly the same performance that he had used before -in conducting the regular cheer. Gifford looked like an inspired madman, -but he knew exactly what he was doing. The students cheered lustily, so -lustily that some of them were hoarse the next day. They continued to -yell after the cheer was completed, ceasing only when Gifford signaled -for silence. - -Then there were speeches by each member of the team, all -enthusiastically applauded, and finally the speech of the evening, that -of the coach, Jack Price. He was a big, compactly built man with regular -features, heavy blond hair, and pale, cold blue eyes. He threw off his -coat with a belligerent gesture, stuck his hands into his trousers -pockets, and waited rigidly until the cheering had subsided. Then he -began: - -"Go ahead and yell. It's easy as hell to cheer here in the gym; but what -are you going to do Saturday afternoon?" - -His voice was sharp with sarcasm, and to the shouts of "Yell! Fight!" -that came from all over the gymnasium, he answered, "Yeah, -maybe--maybe." He shifted his position, stepping toward the front of the -platform, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. - -"I've seen a lot of football games, and I've seen lots of rooters, but -this is the goddamndest gang of yellow-bellied quitters that I've ever -seen. What happened last Saturday when we were behind? I'm asking you; -what happened? You quit! Quit like a bunch of whipped curs. God! you're -yellow, yellow as hell. But the team went on fighting--and it won, won -in spite of you, won for a bunch of yellow pups. And why? Because the -team's got guts. And when it was all over, you cheered and howled and -serpentined and felt big as hell. Lord Almighty! you acted as if you'd -done something." - -His right hand came out of his pocket with a jerk, and he extended a -fighting, clenched fist toward his breathless audience. "I'll tell you -something," he said slowly, viciously; "the team can't win alone day -after to-morrow. _It can't win alone!_ You've got to fight. Damn it! -_You've got to fight!_ Raleigh's good, damn good; it hasn't lost a game -this season--and we've got to win, _win_! Do you hear? We've got to win! -And there's only one way that we can win, and that's with every man back -of the team. Every goddamned mother's son of you. The team's good, but -it can't win unless you fight--_fight_!" - -Suddenly his voice grew softer, almost gentle. He held out both hands to -the boys, who had become so tense that they had forgotten to smoke. -"We've got to win, fellows, for old Sanford. Are you back of us?" - -"Yes!" The tension shattered into a thousand yells. The boys leaped on -the chairs and shouted until they could shout no more. When Gifford -called for "a regular cheer for Jack Price" and then one for the -team--"Make it the biggest you ever gave"--they could respond with only -a hoarse croak. - -Finally the hymn was sung--at least, the boys tried loyally to sing -it--and they stood silent and almost reverent as the team filed out of -the gymnasium. - -Hugh walked back to Surrey Hall with several men. No one said a word -except a quiet good night as they parted. Carl was in the room when he -arrived. He sank into a chair and was silent for a few minutes. - -Finally he said in a happy whisper, "Wasn't it wonderful, Carl?" - -"Un-huh. Damn good." - -"Gosh, I hope we win. We've _got_ to!" - -Carl looked up, his cheeks redder than usual, his eyes glittering. "God, -yes!" he breathed piously. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -The football season lasted from the first of October to the latter part -of November, and during those weeks little was talked about, or even -thought about, on the campus but football. There were undergraduates who -knew the personnel of virtually every football team in the country, the -teams that had played against each other, their relative merits, the -various scores, the outstanding players of each position. Half the -students at Sanford regularly made out "All American" teams, and each -man was more than willing to debate the quality of his team against that -of any other. Night after night the students gathered in groups in -dormitory rooms and fraternity houses, discussing football, football, -football; even religion and sex, the favorite topics for "bull -sessions," could not compete with football, especially when some one -mentioned Raleigh College. Raleigh was Sanford's ancient rival; to -defeat her was of cosmic importance. - -There was a game every Saturday. About half the time the team played at -home; the other games were played on the rivals' fields. No matter how -far away the team traveled, the college traveled with it. The men who -had the necessary money went by train; a few owned automobiles: but most -of the undergraduates had neither an automobile nor money for train -fare. They "bummed" their way. Some of them emulated professional -tramps, and "rode the beams," but most of them started out walking, -trusting that kind-hearted motorists would pick them up and carry them -at least part way to their destination. Although the distances were -sometimes great, and although many motorists are not kind, there is no -record of any man who ever started for a game not arriving in time for -the referee's first whistle. Somehow, by hook or by crook--and it was -often by crook--the boys got there, and, what is more astonishing, they -got back. On Monday morning at 8:45 they were in chapel, usually worn -and tired, it is true, ready to bluff their way through the day's -assignments, and damning any instructor who was heartless enough to give -them a quiz. Some of them were worn out from really harsh traveling -experiences; some of them had more exciting adventures to relate behind -closed doors to selected groups of confidants. - -Football! Nothing else mattered. And as the weeks passed, the excitement -grew, especially as the day drew near for the Raleigh game, which this -year was to be played on the Sanford field. What were Sanford's chances? -Would Harry Slade, Sanford's great half-back, make All American? "Damn -it to hell, he ought to. It'll be a stinkin' shame if he don't." Would -Raleigh's line be able to stop Slade's end runs? Slade! Slade! He was -the team, the hope and adoration of the whole college. - -Three days before the "big game" the alumni began to pour into town, -most of them fairly recent graduates, but many of them gray-haired men -who boasted that they hadn't missed a Sanford-Raleigh game in thirty -years. Hundreds of alumni arrived, filling the two hotels to capacity -and overrunning the fraternity houses, the students doubling up or -seeking hospitality from a friend in a dormitory. - -In the little room in the rear of the Sanford Pool and Billiard Parlors -there was almost continual excitement. Jim McCarty, the proprietor, a -big, jovial, red-faced man whom all the students called Mac, was the -official stake-holder for the college. Bets for any amount could be -placed with him. Money from Raleigh flowed into his pudgy hands, and he -placed it at the odds offered with eager Sanford takers. By the day of -the game his safe held thousands of dollars, most of it wagered at five -to three, Raleigh offering odds. There was hardly an alumnus who did not -prove his loyalty to Sanford by visiting Mac's back room and putting -down a few greenbacks, at least. Some were more loyal than others; the -most loyal placed a thousand dollars--at five to two. - -There was rain for two days before the game, but on Friday night the -clouds broke. A full moon seemed to shine them away, and the whole -campus rejoiced with great enthusiasm. Most of the alumni got drunk to -show their deep appreciation to the moon, and many of the undergraduates -followed the example set by their elders. - -All Friday afternoon girls had been arriving, dozens of them, to attend -the fraternity dances. One dormitory had been set aside for them, the -normal residents seeking shelter in other dormitories. No man ever -objected to resigning his room to a girl. He never could tell what he -would find when he returned to it Monday morning. Some of the girls left -strange mementos.... - -No one except a few notorious grinds studied that night. Some of the -students were, of course, at the fraternity dances; some of them sat in -dormitory rooms and discussed the coming game from every possible angle; -and groups of them wandered around the campus, peering into the -fraternity houses, commenting on the girls, wandering on humming a song -that an orchestra had been playing, occasionally pausing to give a -"regular cheer" for the moon. - -Hugh was too much excited to stay in a room; so with several other -freshmen he traveled the campus. He passionately envied the dancers in -the fraternity houses but consoled himself with the thought, "Maybe -I'll be dancing at the Nu Delt house next year." Then he had a spasm of -fright. Perhaps the Nu Delts--perhaps no fraternity would bid him. The -moon lost its brilliance; for a moment even the Sanford-Raleigh game was -forgotten. - -The boys were standing before a fraternity house, and as the music -ceased, Jack Collings suggested: "Let's serenade them. You lead, Hugh." - -Hugh had a sweet, light tenor voice. It was not at all remarkable, just -clear and true; but he had easily made the Glee Club and had an -excellent chance to be chosen freshman song-leader. - -Collings had brought a guitar with him. He handed it to Hugh, who, like -most musical undergraduates, could play both a guitar and a banjo. "Sing -that 'I arise from dreams of thee' thing that you were singing the other -night. We'll hum." - -Hugh slipped the cord around his neck, tuned the guitar, and then -thrummed a few opening chords. His heart was beating at double time; he -was very happy: he was serenading girls at a fraternity dance. Couples -were strolling out upon the veranda, the girls throwing warm wraps over -their shoulders, the men lighting cigarettes and tossing the burnt -matches on the lawn. Their white shirt-fronts gleamed eerily in the pale -light cast by the Japanese lanterns with which the veranda was hung. - -Hugh began to sing Shelley's passionate lyric, set so well to music by -Tod B. Galloway. His mother had taught him the song, and he loved it. - - - "I arise from dreams of thee - In the first sweet sleep of night, - When the winds are breathing low - And the stars are shining bright. - I arise from dreams of thee, - And a spirit in my feet - Hath led me--who knows how? - To thy chamber-window, Sweet!" - - -Two of the boys, who had heard Hugh sing the song before, hummed a soft -accompaniment. When he began the second verse several more began to hum; -they had caught the melody. The couples on the veranda moved quietly to -the porch railing, their chatter silent, their attention focused on a -group of dim figures standing in the shadow of an elm. Hugh was singing -well, better than he ever had before. Neither he nor his audience knew -that the lyric was immortal, but its tender, passionate beauty caught -and held them. - - - "The wandering airs they faint - On the dark, the silent stream-- - The champak odors fail - Like sweet-thoughts in a dream; - The nightingale's complaint - It dies upon her heart, - As I must die on thine - O beloved as thou art! - - "Oh lift me from the grass! - I die, I faint, I fail! - Let thy love in kisses rain - On my cheeks and eyelids pale. - My cheek is cold and white, alas! - My heart beats loud and fast; - Oh! press it close to thine again - Where it will break at last." - - -There was silence for a moment after Hugh finished. The shadows, the -moonlight, the boy's soft young voice had moved them all. Suddenly a -girl on the veranda cried, "Bring him up!" Instantly half a dozen others -turned to their escorts, insisting shrilly: "Bring him up. We want to -see him." - -Hugh jerked the guitar cord from around his neck, banded the instrument -to Collings, and tried to run. A burst of laughter went up from the -freshmen. They caught him and held him fast until the Tuxedo-clad -upper-classmen rushed down from the veranda and had him by the arms. -They pulled him, protesting and struggling, upon the veranda and into -the living-room. - -The girls gathered around him, praising, demanding more. He flushed -scarlet when one enthusiastic maiden forced her way through the ring, -looked hard at him, and then announced positively, "I think he's sweet." -He was intensely embarrassed, in an agony of confusion--but very happy. -The girls liked his clean blondness, his blushes, his startled smile. -How long they would have held him there in the center of the ring while -they admired and teased him, there is no telling; but suddenly the -orchestra brought relief by striking up a fox-trot. - -"He's mine!" cried a pretty black-eyed girl with a cloud of bobbed hair -and flaming cheeks. Her slender shoulders were bare; her round white -arms waved in excited, graceful gestures; her corn-colored frock was a -gauzy mist. She clutched Hugh's arm. "He's mine," she repeated shrilly. -"He's going to dance with me." - -Hugh's cheeks burned a deeper scarlet. "My clothes," he muttered, -hesitating. - -"Your clothes! My dear, you look sweet. Take off your cap and dance with -me." - -Hugh snatched off his cap, his mind reeling with shame, but he had no -time to think. The girl pulled him through the crowd to a clear floor. -Almost mechanically, Hugh put his arm around her and began to dance. He -_could_ dance, and the girl had sense enough not to talk. She floated in -his arm, her slender body close to his. When the music ceased, she -clapped her little hands excitedly and told Hugh that he danced -"won-der-ful-ly." After the third encore she led him to a dark corner in -the hall. - -"You're sweet, honey," she said softly. She turned her small, glowing -face up to his. "Kiss me," she commanded. - -Dazed, Hugh gathered her into his arms and kissed her little red mouth. -She clung to him for a minute and then pushed him gently away. - -"Good night, honey," she whispered. - -"Good night." Hugh's voice broke huskily. He turned and walked rapidly -down the hall, upon the veranda, and down the steps. His classmates were -waiting for him. They rushed up to him, demanding that he tell them what -had happened. - -He told them most of it, especially about the dance; but he neglected to -mention the kiss. Shyness overcame any desire that he had to strut. -Besides, there was something about that kiss that made it impossible for -him to tell any one, even Carl. When he went to bed that night, he did -not think once about the coming football game. Before his eyes floated -the girl in the corn-colored frock. He wished he knew her name.... -Closer and closer she came to him. He could feel her cool arms around -his neck. "What a wonderful, wonderful girl! Sweeter than Helen--lots -sweeter.... She's like the night--and moonlight.... Like moonlight -and--" The music of the "Indian Serenade" began to thrill through his -mind: - - - "I arise from dreams of thee - In the first sweet sleep of night.... - - -Oh, she's sweet, sweet--like music and moonlight...." He fell asleep, -repeating "music and moonlight" over and over again--"music and -moonlight...." - - * * * * * - -The morning of the "big game" proved ideal, crisp and cold, crystal -clear. Indian summer was near its close, but there was still something -of its dreamy wonder in the air, and the hills still flamed with -glorious autumn foliage. The purples, the mauves, the scarlets, the -burnt oranges were a little dimmed, a little less brilliant--the leaves -were rustling dryly now--but there was beauty in dying autumn, its -splendor slowly fading, as there was in its first startling burst of -color. - -Classes that Saturday morning were a farce, but they were held; the -administration, which the boys damned heartily, insisted upon it. Some -of the instructors merely took the roll and dismissed their classes, -feeling that honor had been satisfied; but others held their classes -through the hour, lecturing the disgusted students on their lack of -interest, warning them that examinations weren't as far off as the -millennium. - -Hugh felt that he was lucky; he had only one class--it was with Alling -in Latin--and it had been promptly dismissed. "When the day comes," said -Alling, "that Latin can compete with football, I'll--well, I'll probably -get a living wage. You had better go before I get to talking about a -living wage. It is one of my favorite topics." He waved his hand toward -the door; the boys roared with delight and rushed out of the room, -shoving each other and laughing. They ran out of the building; all of -them were too excited to walk. - -By half-past one the stands were filled. Most of the girls wore fur -coats, as did many of the alumni, but the students sported no such -luxuries; nine tenths of them wore "baa-baa coats," gray jackets lined -with sheep's wool. Except for an occasional banner, usually carried by a -girl, and the bright hats of the women, there was little color to the -scene. The air was sharp, and the spectators huddled down into their -warm coats. - -The rival cheering sections, seated on opposite sides of the field, -alternated in cheering and singing, each applauding the other's efforts. -The cheering wasn't very good, and the singing was worse; but there was -a great deal of noise, and that was about all that mattered to either -side. - -A few minutes before two, the Raleigh team ran upon the field. The -Raleigh cheering section promptly went mad. When the Sanford team -appeared a minute later, the Sanford cheering section tried its best to -go madder, the boys whistling and yelling like possessed demons. Wayne -Gifford brought them to attention by holding his hands above his head. -He called for the usual regular cheer for the team and then for a short -cheer for each member of it, starting with the captain, Sherman -Walford, and ending with the great half-back, Harry Slade. - -Suddenly there was silence. The toss-up had been completed; the teams -were in position on the field. Slade had finished building a slender -pyramid of mud, on which he had balanced the ball. The referee held up -his hand. "Are you ready, Sanford?" Walford signaled his readiness. "Are -you ready, Raleigh?" - -The shrill blast of the referee's whistle--and the game was on. The -first half was a see-saw up and down the field. Near the end of the half -Raleigh was within twenty yards of the Sanford line. Shouts of "Score! -Score! Score!" went up from the Raleigh rooters, rhythmic, insistent. -"Hold 'em! Hold 'em! Fight! Fight! Fight!" the Sanford cheering section -pleaded, almost sobbing the words. A forward pass skilfully completed -netted Raleigh sixteen yards. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" - -The timekeeper tooted his little horn; the half was over. For a moment -the Sanford boys leaned back exhausted; then they leaped to their feet -and yelled madly, while the Raleigh boys leaned back or against each -other and swore fervently. Within two minutes the tension had departed. -The rival cheering sections alternated in singing songs, applauded each -other vigorously, whistled at a frightened dog that tried to cross the -field and nearly lost its mind entirely when called by a thousand -masters, waited breathlessly when the cheer-leaders announced the -results from other football games that had been telegraphed to the -field, applauded if Harvard was losing, groaned if it wasn't, sang some -more, relaxed and felt consummately happy. - -Sanford immediately took the offensive in the second half. Slade was -consistently carrying the ball. Twice he brought it within Raleigh's -twenty-five-yard line. The first time Raleigh held firm, but the second -time Slade stepped back for a drop-kick. The spectators sat silent, -breathless. The angle was difficult. Could he make it? Would the line -hold? - -Quite calmly Slade waited. The center passed the ball neatly. Slade -turned it in his hands, paid not the slightest attention to the mad -struggle going on a few feet in front of him, dropped the ball--and -kicked. The ball rose in a graceful arc and passed safely between the -goal-posts. - -Every one, men and women alike, the Raleigh adherents excepted, promptly -turned into extraordinarily active lunatics. The women waved their -banners and shrieked, or if they had no banners, they waved their arms -and shrieked; the men danced up and down, yelled, pounded each other on -the back, sometimes wildly embraced--many a woman was kissed by a man -she had never seen before and never would again, nor did she -object--Wayne Gifford was turning handsprings, and many of the students -were feebly fluttering their hands, voiceless, spent with cheering, weak -from excitement. - -Early in the fourth quarter, however, Raleigh got its revenge, carrying -the ball to a touch-down after a series of line rushes. Sanford tried -desperately to score again, but its best efforts were useless against -the Raleigh defense. - -The final whistle blew; and Sanford had lost. Cheering wildly, tossing -their hats into the air, the Raleigh students piled down from the grand -stand upon the field. With the cheer-leaders at the head, waving their -megaphones, the boys rapidly formed into a long line in uneven groups, -holding arms, dancing, shouting, winding in and out around the field, -between the goal-posts, tossing their hats over the bars, waving their -hands at the Sanford men standing despondently in their places--in and -out, in and out, in the triumphant serpentine. Finally they paused, took -off their hats, cheered first their own team, then the Sanford team, and -then sang their hymn while the Sanford men respectfully uncovered, -silent and despairing. - -When the hymn was over, the Sanford men quietly left the grand stand, -quietly formed into a long line in groups of fours, quietly marched to -the college flagpole in the center of the campus. A Sanford banner was -flying from the pole, a blue banner with an orange S. Wayne Gifford -loosened the ropes. Down fluttered the banner, and the boys reverently -took off their hats. Gifford caught the banner before it touched the -ground and gathered it into his arms. The song-leader stepped beside -him. He lifted his hand, sang a note, and then the boys sang with him, -huskily, sadly, some of them with tears streaming down their cheeks: - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true. - Let thy arms enfold us; - Let thy truth uphold us. - Queen of colleges, mother of men-- - Alma mater, Sanford--hail! - Alma mater--Hail!--Hail!" - - -Slowly the circle broke into small groups that straggled wearily across -the campus. Hugh, with two or three others, was walking behind two young -professors--one of them, Alling, the other, Jones of the economics -department. Hugh was almost literally broken-hearted; the defeat lay on -him like an awful sorrow that never could be lifted. Every inch of him -ached, but his despair was greater than his physical pain. The sharp, -clear voice of Jones broke into his half-deadened consciousness. - -"I can't understand all this emotional excitement," said Jones crisply. -"A football game is a football game, not a national calamity. I enjoy -the game myself, but why weep over it? I don't think I ever saw anything -more absurd than those boys singing with tears running into their -mouths." - -Shocked, the boys looked at each other. They started to make angry -remarks but paused as Alling spoke. - -"Of course, what you say, Jones, is quite right," he remarked calmly, -"quite right. But, do you know, I pity you." - -"Alling's a good guy," Hugh told Carl later; "he's human." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -After the Sanford-Raleigh game, the college seemed to be slowly dying. -The boys held countless post-mortems over the game, explaining to each -other just how it had been lost or how it could have been won. They -watched the newspapers eagerly as the sport writers announced their -choice for the so-called All American team. If Slade was on the team, -the writer was conceded to "know his dope"; if Slade wasn't, the writer -was a "dumbbell." But all this pseudo-excitement was merely picking at -the covers; there was no real heart in it. Gradually the football talk -died down; freshmen ceased to write themes about Sanford's great -fighting spirit; sex and religion once more became predominant at the -"bull sessions." - -Studies, too, began to find a place in the sun. Hour examinations were -coming, and most of the boys knew that they were miserably prepared. -Lights were burning in fraternity houses and dormitories until late at -night, and mighty little of their glow was shed on poker parties and -crap games. The college had begun to study. - -When Hugh finally calmed down and took stock, he was horrified and -frightened to discover how far he was behind in all his work. He had -done his lessons sketchily from day to day, but he really knew nothing -about them, and he knew that he didn't. Since Morse's departure, he had -loafed, trusting to luck and the knowledge he had gained in high school. -So far he had escaped a summons from the dean, but he daily expected -one, and the mere thought of hour examinations made him shiver. He -studied hard for a week, succeeding only in getting gloriously confused -and more frightened. The examinations proved to be easier than he had -expected; he didn't fail in any of them, but he did not get a grade -above a C. - -The examination flurry passed, and the college was left cold. Nothing -seemed to happen. The boys went to the movies every night, had a peanut -fight, talked to the shadowy actors; they played cards, pool, and -billiards, or shot craps; Saturday nights many of them went to a dance -at Hastings, a small town five miles away; they held bull sessions and -discussed everything under the sun and some things beyond it; they -attended a performance of Shaw's "Candida" given by the Dramatic Society -and voted it a "wet" show; and, incidentally, some of them studied. But, -all in all, life was rather tepid, and most of the boys were merely -marking time and waiting for Christmas vacation. - -For Hugh the vacation came and went with a rush. It was glorious to get -home again, glorious to see his father and mother, and, at first, -glorious to see Helen Simpson. But Helen had begun to pall; her kisses -hardly compensated for her conversation. She gave him a little feeling -of guilt, too, which he tried to argue away. "Kissing isn't really -wrong. Everybody pets; at least, Carl says they do. Helen likes it -but..." Always that "but" intruded itself. "But it doesn't seem quite -right when--I don't really love her." When he kissed her for the last -time before returning to college, he had a distinct feeling of relief: -well, that would be off his mind for a while, anyway. - -It was a sober, quiet crowd of students--for the first time they were -students--that returned to their desks after the vacation. The final -examinations were ahead of them, less than a month away; and those -examinations hung over their heads like the relentless, glittering blade -of a guillotine. The boys studied. "College life" ceased; there was a -brief period of education. - -Of course, they did not desert the movies, and the snow and ice claimed -them. Part of Indian Lake was scraped free of snow, and every clear -afternoon hundreds of boys skated happily, explaining afterward that -they had to have some exercise if they were going to be able to study. -On those afternoons the lake was a pretty sight, zestful, alive with -color. Many of the men wore blue sweaters, some of them brightly colored -Mackinaws, all of them knitted toques. As soon as the cold weather -arrived, the freshmen had been permitted to substitute blue toques with -orange tassels for their "baby bonnets." The blue and orange stood out -vividly against the white snow-covered hills, and the skates rang -sharply as they cut the glare ice. - -There was snow-shoeing, skiing, and sliding "to keep a fellow fit so -that he could do good work in his exams," but much as the boys enjoyed -the winter sports, a black pall hung over the college as the examination -period drew nearer and nearer. The library, which had been virtually -deserted all term, suddenly became crowded. Every afternoon and evening -its big tables were filled with serious-faced lads earnestly bending -over books, making notes, running their fingers through their hair, -occasionally looking up with dazed eyes, or twisting about miserably. - -The tension grew greater and greater. The upper-classmen were quiet and -businesslike, but most of the freshmen were frankly terrified. A few of -them packed their trunks and slunk away, and a few more openly scorned -the examinations and their frightened classmates; but they were the -exceptions. All the buoyancy seemed gone out of the college; nothing was -left but an intense strain. The dormitories were strangely quiet at -night. There was no playing of golf in the hallways, no rolling of bats -down the stairs, no shouting, no laughter; a man who made any noise was -in danger of a serious beating. Even the greetings as the men passed -each other on the campus were quiet and abstracted. They ceased to cut -classes. Everybody attended, and everybody paid close attention even to -the most tiresome instructors. - -Studious seniors began to reap a harvest out of tutoring sections. The -meetings were a dollar "a throw," and for another dollar a student could -get a mimeographed outline of a course. But the tutoring sections were -only for the "plutes" or the athletes, many of whom were subsidized by -fraternities or alumni. Most of the students had to learn their own -lessons; so they often banded together in small groups to make the task -less arduous, finding some relief in sociability. - -The study groups, quite properly called seminars, would have shocked -many a worthy professor had he been able to attend one; but they were -truly educative, and to many students inspiring. The professor had -planted the seed of wisdom with them; it was at the seminars that they -tried honestly, if somewhat hysterically and irreverently, to make it -grow. - -Hugh did most of his studying alone, fearing that the seminars would -degenerate into bull sessions, as many of them did; but Carl insisted -that he join one group that was going "to wipe up that goddamned -English course to-night." - -There were only five men at the seminar, which met in Surrey 19, because -Pudge Jamieson, who was "rating" an A in the course and was therefore an -authority, said that he wouldn't come if there were any more. Pudge, as -his nickname suggests, was plump. He was a round-faced, jovial youngster -who learned everything with consummate ease, wrote with great fluency -and sometimes real beauty, peered through his horn-rimmed spectacles -amusedly at the world, and read every "smut" book that he could lay his -hands on. His library of erotica was already famous throughout the -college, his volumes of Balzac's "Droll Stories," Rabelais complete, -"Mlle. de Maupin," Burton's "Arabian Nights," and the "Decameron" being -in constant demand. He could tell literally hundreds of dirty stories, -always having a new one on tap, always looking when he told it like a -complacent cherub. - -There were two other men in the seminar. Freddy Dickson, an earnest, -anemic youth, seemed to be always striving for greater acceleration and -never gaining it; or as Pudge put it, "The trouble with Freddy is that -he's always shifting gears." Larry Stillwell, the last man, was a dark, -handsome youth with exceedingly regular features, pomaded hair parted in -the center and shining sleekly, fine teeth, and rich coloring: a -"smooth" boy who prided himself on his conquests and the fact that he -never got a grade above a C in his courses. There was no man in the -freshman class with a finer mind, but he declined to study, declaring -firmly that he could not waste his time acquiring impractical tastes for -useless arts. - -"Now everybody shut up," said Pudge, seating himself in a big chair and -laboriously crossing one leg over the other. "Put some more wood on the -fire, Hugh, will you?" - -Hugh stirred up the fire, piled on a log or so, and then returned to his -chair, hoping against belief that something really would be accomplished -in the seminar. All the boys, he excepted, were smoking, and all of them -were lolling back in dangerously comfortable attitudes. - -"We've got to get going," Pudge continued, "and we aren't going to get -anything done if we just sit around and bull. I'm the prof, and I'm -going to ask questions. Now, don't bull. If you don't know, just say, -'No soap,' and if you do know, shoot your dope." He grinned. "How's that -for a rime?" - -"Atta boy!" Carl exclaimed enthusiastically. - -"Shut up! Now, the stuff we want to get at to-night is the poetry. No use -spending any time on the composition. My prof said that we would have -to write themes in the exam, but we can't do anything about that here. -You're all getting by on your themes, anyway, aren't you?" - -"Yeah," the listening quartet answered in unison, Larry Stillwell adding -dubiously, "Well, I'm getting C's." - -"Larry," said Carl in cold contempt, "you're a goddamn liar. I saw a B -on one of your themes the other day and an A on another. What are you -always pulling that low-brow stuff for?" - -Larry had the grace to blush. "Aw," he explained in some confusion, "my -prof's full of hooey. He doesn't know a C theme from an A one. He makes -me sick. He--" - -"Aw, shut up!" Freddy Dickson shouted. "Let's get going; let's get -going. We gotta learn this poetry. Damn! I don't know anything about it. -I didn't crack the book till two days ago." - -Pudge took charge again. "Close your gabs, everybody," he commanded -sternly. "There's no sense in going over the prose lit. You can do that -better by yourselves. God knows I'm not going to waste my time telling -you bone-heads what Carlyle means by a hero. If you don't know Odin from -Mohammed by this time, you can roast in Dante's hell for all of me. Now -listen; the prof said that they were going to make us place lines, and, -of course, they'll expect us to know what the poems are about. Hell! -how some of the boys are going to fox 'em." He paused to laugh. "Jim -Hicks told me this afternoon that 'Philomela' was by Shakspere." The -other boys did not understand the joke, but they all laughed heartily. - -"Now," he went on, "I'll give you the name of a poem, and then you tell -me what it's about and who wrote it." - -He leafed rapidly through an anthology. "Carl, who wrote 'Kubla Khan'?" - -Carl puffed his pipe meditatively. "I'm going to fox you, Pudge," he -said, frankly triumphant; "I know. Coleridge wrote it. It seems to be -about a Jew who built a swell joint for a wild woman or something like -that. I can't make much out of the damn thing." - -"That's enough. Smack for Carl," said Pudge approvingly. "Smack" meant -that the answer was satisfactory. "Freddy, who wrote 'La Belle Dame sans -Merci'?" - -Freddy twisted in his chair, thumped his head with his knuckles, and -finally announced with a groan of despair, "No soap." - -"Hugh?" - -"No soap." - -"Larry?" - -"Well," drawled Larry, "I think Jawn Keats wrote it. It's one of those -bedtime stories with a kick. A knight gets picked up by a jane. He puts -her on his prancing steed and beats it for the tall timber. Keats isn't -very plain about what happened there, but I suspect the worst. Anyhow, -the knight woke up the next morning with an awful rotten taste in his -mouth." - -"Smack for Larry. Your turn, Carl. Who wrote 'The West Wind'?" - -"You can't get me on that boy Masefield, Pudge. I know all his stuff. -There isn't any story; it's just about the west wind, but it's a goddamn -good poem. It's the cat's pajamas." - -"You said it, Carl," Hugh chimed in, "but I like 'Sea Fever' better. - - - "I must go down to the seas again, - To the lonely sea and the sky.... - - -Gosh! that's hot stuff. 'August, 1914''s a peach, too." - -"Yeah," agreed Larry languidly; "I got a great kick when the prof read -that in class. Masefield's all right. I wish we had more of his stuff -and less of Milton. Lord Almighty, how I hate Milton! What th' hell do -they have to give us that tripe for?" - -"Oh, let's get going," Freddy pleaded, running a nervous hand through -his mouse-colored hair. "Shoot a question, Pudge." - -"All right, Freddy." Pudge tried to smile wickedly but succeeded only in -looking like a beaming cherub. "Tell us who wrote the 'Ode on -Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.' -Cripes! what a title!" - -Freddy groaned. "I know that Wadsworth wrote it, but that is all that I -do know about it." - -"Wordsworth, Freddy," Carl corrected him. "Wordsworth. Henry W. -Wordsworth." - -"Gee, Carl, thanks. I thought it was William." - -There was a burst of laughter, and then Pudge explained. "It is William, -Freddy. Don't let Peters razz you. Just for that, Carl, you tell what -it's about." - -"No soap," said Carl decisively. - -"I know," Hugh announced, excited and pleased. - -"Shoot!" - -"Well, it's this reincarnation business. Wordsworth thought you lived -before you came on to this earth, and everything was fine when you were -a baby but it got worse when you got older. That's about all. It's kinda -bugs, but I like some of it." - -"It isn't bugs," Pudge contradicted flatly; "it's got sense. You do lose -something as you grow older, but you gain something, too. Wordsworth -admits that. It's a wonderful poem, and you're dumbbells if you can't -see it." He was very serious as he turned the pages of the book and laid -his pipe on the table at his elbow. "Now listen. This stanza has the -dope for the whole poem." He read the famous stanza simply and -effectively: - - - "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; - The soul that rises with us, our life's Star, - Hath had elsewhere its setting - And cometh from afar; - Not in entire forgetfulness, - And not in utter nakedness, - But trailing clouds of glory do we come - From God who is our home: - Heaven lies about us in our infancy! - Shades of the prison house begin to close - Upon the growing Boy, - But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, - He sees it in his joy; - The Youth who daily farther from the east - Must travel, still is Nature's priest, - And by the vision splendid - Is on his way attended; - At length the Man perceives it die away, - And fade into the light of common day." - - -There was a moment's silence when he finished, and then Hugh said -reverently: "That is beautiful. Read the last stanza, will you, Pudge?" - -So Pudge read the last stanza, and then the boys got into an argument -over the possible truth of the thesis of the poem. Freddy finally -brought them back to the task in hand with his plaintive plea, "We've -gotta get going." It was two o'clock in the morning when the seminar -broke up, Hugh admitting to Carl after their visitors departed that he -had not only learned a lot but that he had enjoyed the evening heartily. - -The college grew quieter and quieter as the day for the examinations -approached. There were seminars on everything, even on the best way to -prepare cribs. Certain students with low grades and less honor would -somehow gravitate together and discuss plans for "foxing the profs." -Opinions differed. One man usually insisted that notes in the palm of -the left hand were safe from detection, only to be met by the objection -that they had to be written in ink, and if one's hand perspired, "and it -was sure as hell to," nothing was left but an inky smear. Another held -that a fellow could fasten a rubber band on his forearm and attach the -notes to those, pulling them down when needed and then letting them snap -back out of sight into safety. "But," one of the conspirators was sure -to object, "what th' hell are you going to do if the band breaks?" Some -of them insisted that notes placed in the inside of one's goloshes--all -the students wore them but took them off in the examination-room--could -be easily read. "Yeah, but the proctors are wise to that stunt." And so -_ad infinitum_. Eventually all the "stunts" were used and many more. Not -that all the students cheated. Everything considered, the percentage of -cheaters was not great, but those who did cheat usually spent enough -time evolving ingenious methods of preparing cribs and in preparing them -to have learned their lessons honestly and well. - -The night before the first examinations the campus was utterly quiet. -Suddenly bedlam broke loose. Somehow every dormitory that contained -freshmen became a madhouse at the same time. Hugh and Carl were in -Surrey 19 earnestly studying. Freddy Dickson flung the door open and -shouted hysterically, "The general science exam's out!" - -Hugh and Carl whirled around in their desk-chairs. - -"What?" They shouted together. - -"Yeah! One of the fellows saw it. A girl that works at the press copied -down the exam and gave it to him." - -"What fellow? Where's the exam?" - -"I don't know who the guy is, but Hubert Manning saw the exam." - -Hugh and Carl were out of their chairs in an instant, and the three boys -rushed out of Surrey in search of Manning. They found him in his room -telling a mob of excited classmates that he hadn't seen the exam but -that Harry Smithson had. Away went the crowd in search of Smithson, Carl -and Hugh and Freddy in the midst of the excited, chattering lads. -Smithson hadn't seen the exam, but he had heard that Puddy McCumber had -a copy.... Freshmen were running up and down stairs in the dormitories, -shouting, "Have you seen the exam?" No, nobody had seen the exam, but -some of the boys had been told definitely what the questions were going -to be. No two seemed to agree on the questions, but everybody copied -them down and then rushed on to search for a _bona fide_ copy. They -hurried from dormitory to dormitory, constantly shouting the same -question, "Have you seen the exam?" There were men in every dormitory -with a new list of questions, which were hastily scratched into -note-books by the eager seekers. Until midnight the excitement raged; -then the campus quieted down as the freshmen began to study the long -lists of questions. - -"God!" said Carl as he scanned his list hopelessly, "these damn -questions cover everything in the course and some things that I know -damn well weren't in it. What a lot of nuts we were. Let's go to bed." - -"Carl," Hugh wailed despondently, "I'm going to flunk that exam. I can't -answer a tenth of these questions. I can't go to bed; I've got to study. -Oh, Lord!" - -"Don't be a triple-plated jackass. Come on to bed. You'll just get woozy -if you stay up any longer." - -"All right," Hugh agreed wearily. He went to bed, but many of the boys -stayed up and studied, some of them all night. - -The examinations were held in the gymnasium. Hundreds of class-room -chairs were set in even rows. Nothing else was there, not even the -gymnasium apparatus. A few years earlier a wily student had sneaked into -the gymnasium the night before an examination and written his notes on a -dumbbell hanging on the wall. The next day he calmly chose the seat in -front of the dumbbell--and proceeded to write a perfect examination. The -annotated dumbbell was found later, and after that the walls were -stripped clean of apparatus before the examinations began. - -At a few minutes before nine the entire freshman class was grouped -before the doors of the gymnasium, nervously talking, some of them -glancing through their notes, others smoking--some of them so rapidly -that the cigarettes seemed to melt, others walking up and down, -muttering and mumbling; all of them so excited, so tense that they -hardly knew what they were doing. Hugh was trying to think of a dozen -answers to questions that popped into his head, and he couldn't think of -anything. - -Suddenly the doors were thrown open. Yelling, shoving each other about, -fairly dancing in their eagerness and excitement, the freshmen rushed -into the gymnasium. Hugh broke from the mob as quickly as possible, -hurried to a chair, and snatched up a copy of the examination that was -lying on its broad arm. At the first glance he thought that he could -answer all the questions; a second glance revealed four that meant -nothing to him. For a moment he was dizzy with hope and despair, and -then, all at once, he felt quite calm. He pulled off his goloshes and -prepared to go to work. - -Within three minutes the noise had subsided. There was a rustling as the -boys took off their baa-baa coats and goloshes, but after that there was -no sound save the slow steps of the proctors pacing up and down the -aisle. Once Hugh looked up, thinking desperately, almost seizing an idea -that floated nebulous and necessary before him. A proctor that he knew -caught his eye and smiled fatuously. Hugh did not smile back. He could -have cried in his fury. The idea was gone forever. - -Some of the students began to write immediately; some of them leaned -back and stared at the ceiling; some of them chewed their pencils -nervously; some of them leaned forward mercilessly pounding a knee; some -of them kept running one or both hands through their hair; some of them -wrote a little and then paused to gaze blankly before them or to tap -their teeth with a pen or pencil: all of them were concentrating with an -intensity that made the silence electric. - -That proctor's idiotic smile had thrown Hugh's thoughts into what -seemed hopeless confusion, but a small incident almost immediately -brought order and relief. The gymnasium cat was wandering around the -rear of the gymnasium. It attracted the attention of several of the -students--and of a proctor. Being very careful not to make any noise, he -picked up the cat and started for the door. Almost instantly every -student looked up; and then the stamping began. Four hundred freshmen -stamped in rhythm to the proctor's steps. He Hushed violently, tried -vainly to look unconcerned, and finally disappeared through the door -with the cat. Hugh had stamped lustily and laughed in great glee at the -proctor's confusion; then he returned to his work, completely at ease, -his nervousness gone. - -One hour passed, two hours. Still the freshmen wrote; still the proctors -paced up and down. Suddenly a proctor paused, stared intently at a youth -who was leaning forward in his chair, walked quickly to him, and picked -up one of his goloshes. The next instant he had a piece of paper in his -hand and was, walking down the gymnasium after beckoning to the boy to -follow him. The boy shoved his feet into his goloshes, pulled on his -baa-baa coat, and, his face white and strained, marched down the aisle. -The proctor spoke a few words to him at the door. He nodded, opened the -door, left the gymnasium--and five hours later the college. - -Thus the college for ten days: the better students moderately calm, the -others cramming information into aching heads, drinking unbelievable -quantities of coffee, sitting up, many of them, all night, attending -seminars or tutoring sessions, working for long hours in the library, -finally taking the examination, only to start a new nerve-racking grind -in preparation for the next one. - -If a student failed in a course, he received a "flunk notice" from the -registrar's office within four days after the examination, so that four -days after the last examination every student knew whether he had passed -his courses or not. All those who failed to pass three courses were, as -the students put it, "flunked out," or as the registrar put it, "their -connection with the college was severed." Some of the flunkees took the -news very casually, packed their trunks, sold their furniture, and -departed; others frankly wept or hastened to their instructors to plead -vainly that their grades be raised: all of them were required to leave -Haydensville at once. - -Hugh passed all of his courses but without distinction. His B in -trigonometry did not give him great satisfaction inasmuch as he had -received an A in exactly the same course in high school; nor was he -particularly proud of his B in English, since he knew that with a -little effort he could have "pulled" an A. The remainder of his grades -were C's and D's, mostly D's. He felt almost as much ashamed as Freddy -Dickson, who somehow hadn't "got going" and had been flunked out. Carl -received nothing less than a C, and his record made Hugh more ashamed of -his own. Carl never seemed to study, but he hadn't disgraced himself. - -Hugh spent many bitter hours thinking about his record. What would his -folks think? Worse, what would they _say?_ Finally he wrote to them: - - - - Dear Mother and Dad: - - I have just found out my grades. I think that they will - be sent to you later. Well, I didn't flunk out but my - record isn't so hot. Only two of my grades are any good. - I got a B in English and Math but the others are all C's - and D's. I know that you will be ashamed of me and I'm - awfully sorry. I've thought of lots of excuses to write - to you, but I guess I won't write them. I know that I - didn't study hard enough. I had too much fun. - - I promise you that I'll do better next time. I know that - I can. Please don't scold me. - - Lots of love, - HUGH - - -All that his mother wrote in reply was, "Of course, you will do better -next time." The kindness hurt dreadfully. Hugh wished that she had -scolded him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -The college granted a vacation of three days between terms, but Hugh did -not go home, nor did many of the other undergraduates. There was -excitement in the air; the college was beginning to stew and boil again. -Fraternity rushing was scheduled for the second week of the new term. - -The administration strictly prohibited the rushing of freshmen the first -term; and, in general, the fraternities respected the rule. True, the -fraternity men were constantly visiting eligible freshmen, chatting with -them, discussing everything with them except fraternities. That subject -was barred. - -Hugh and Carl received a great many calls from upper-classmen the first -term, and Hugh had been astonished at Carl's reticence and silence. -Carl, the flippant, the voluble, the "wise-cracker," lost his tongue the -minute a man wearing a fraternity pin entered the room. Hugh was forced -to entertain the all-important guest. Carl never explained how much he -wanted to make a good fraternity, not any fraternity, only a _good_ one; -nor did he explain that his secret studying the first term had been -inspired by his eagerness to be completely eligible. A good fraternity -would put the seal of aristocracy on him; it would mean everything to -the "old lady." - -For the first three nights of the rushing season the fraternities held -open house for all freshmen, but during the last three nights no -freshman was supposed to enter a fraternity house unless Invited. - -The first three nights found the freshmen traveling in scared groups -from fraternity house to fraternity house, sticking close together -unless rather vigorously pried apart by their hosts. Everybody was -introduced to everybody else; everybody tried rather hopelessly to make -conversation, and nearly everybody smoked too much, partly because they -were nervous and partly because the "smokes" were free. - -It was the last three nights that counted. Both Hugh and Carl received -invitations from most of the fraternities, and they stuck together, -religiously visiting them all. Hugh hoped that they would "make" the -same fraternity and that that fraternity would be Nu Delta. They were -together so consistently during the rushing period that the story went -around the campus that Carver and Peters were "going the same way," and -that Carver had said that he wouldn't accept a bid from any fraternity -unless it asked Peters, too. - -Hugh heard the story and couldn't understand it. Everybody seemed to -take it for granted that he would be bid. Why didn't they take it -equally for granted that Carl would be bid as well? He thought perhaps -it was because he was an athlete and Carl wasn't; but the truth was, of -course, that the upper-classmen perceived the _nouveau riche_ quality in -Carl quite as clearly as he did himself. He knew that his money and the -fact that he had gone to a fashionable prep school would bring him bids, -but would they be from the right fraternities? That was the -all-important question. - -Those last three days of rushing were nerve-racking. At night the -invited freshmen--and that meant about two thirds of the class--were at -the fraternity houses until eleven; between classes and during every -free hour they were accosted by earnest fraternity men, each presenting -the superior merits of his fraternity. The fraternity men were wearier -than the freshmen. They sat up until the small hours every morning -discussing the freshmen they had entertained the night before. - -Hugh was in a daze. Over and over he heard the same words with only -slight variations. A fraternity man would slap a fat book with an -excited hand and exclaim: "This is 'Baird's Manual,' the final authority -on fraternities, and it's got absolutely all the dope. You can see where -we stand. Sixty chapters! You don't join just this one, y' understand; -you join all of 'em. You're welcome wherever you go." Or, if the number -of chapters happened to be small, "Baird's Manual" was referred to -again. "Only fifteen chapters, you see. We don't take in new chapters -every time they ask. We're darned careful to know what we're signing up -before we take anybody in." The word "aristocratic" was carefully -avoided, but it was just as carefully suggested. - -It seemed to Hugh that he was shown a photograph of every fraternity -house in the country. "Look," he would be told by his host, "look at -that picture to the right of the fireplace. That's our house at Cornell. -Isn't it the darb? And look at that one. It's our house at California. -Some palace. They've got sunken gardens. I was out there last year to -our convention. The boys certainly gave us a swell time." - -All this through a haze of tobacco smoke and over the noise of a jazz -orchestra and the chatter of a dozen similar conversations. Hugh was -excited but not really interested. The Nu Deltas invited him to their -house every evening, but they were not making a great fuss over him. -Perhaps they weren't going to give him a bid.... Well, he'd go some -other fraternity. No, he wouldn't, either. Maybe the Nu Delta's would -bid him later after he'd done something on the track. - -Although actual pledging was not supposed to be done until Saturday -night, Hugh was receiving what amounted to bids all that day and the -night before. Several times groups of fraternity men got into a room, -closed the door, and then talked to him until he was almost literally -dizzy. He was wise enough not to make any promises. His invariable -answer was: "I don't know yet. I won't know until Saturday night." - -Carl was having similar experiences, but neither of them had been talked -to by Nu Deltas. The president of the chapter, Merle Douglas, had said -to Hugh in passing, "We've got our eye on you, Carver," and that was all -that had been said. Carl did not have even that much consolation. But he -wasn't so much interested in Nu Delta as Hugh was; Kappa Zeta or Alpha -Sigma would do as well. Both of these fraternities were making violent -efforts to get Hugh, but they were paying only polite attention to Carl. - -On Friday night Hugh was given some advice that he had good reason to -remember in later years. At the moment it did not interest him a great -deal. - -He had gone to the Delta Sigma Delta house, not because he had the -slightest interest in that fraternity but because the Nu Deltas had not -urged him to remain with them. The Delta Sigma Deltas welcomed him -enthusiastically and turned him over to their president, Malcolm Graham, -a tall serious senior with sandy hair and quiet brown eyes. - -"Will you come up-stairs with me, Carver? I want to have a talk with -you," he said simply. - -Hugh hesitated. He didn't mind being talked _to_, but he was heartily -sick of being talked _at_. - -Graham noticed his hesitation and smiled. "Don't worry; I'm not going to -shanghai you, and I'm not going to jaw you to death, either." - -Hugh smiled in response. "I'm glad of that," he said wearily. "I've been -jawed until I don't know anything." - -"I don't doubt it. Come on; let's get away from this racket." He took -Hugh by the arm and led him up-stairs to his own room, which was -pleasantly quiet and restful after the noise they had left. - -When they were both seated in comfortable chairs, Graham began to talk. -"I know that you are being tremendously rushed, Carver, and I know that -you are going to get a lot of bids, too. I've been watching you all -through this week, and you seem dazed and confused to me, more confused -even than the average freshman. I think I know the reason." - -"What is it?" Hugh demanded eagerly. - -"I understand that your father is a Nu Delt." - -Hugh nodded. - -"And you're afraid that they aren't going to bid you." - -Hugh was startled. "How did you know?" He never thought of denying the -statement. - -"I guessed it. You were obviously worried; you visited other -fraternities; and you didn't seem to enjoy the attention that you were -getting. I'll tell you right now that you are worrying about nothing; -the Nu Delts will bid you. They are just taking you for granted; that's -all. You are a legacy, and you have accepted all their invitations to -come around. If you had stayed away one night, there would have been a -whole delegation rushing around the campus to hunt you up." - -Hugh relaxed. For the time being he believed Graham implicitly. - -"Now," Graham went on, "it's the Nu Delts that I want to talk about. Oh, -I'm not going to knock them," he hastened to add as Hugh eyed him -suspiciously. "I know that you have heard plenty of fraternities -knocking each other, but I am sure that you haven't heard any knocking -in this house." - -"No I haven't," Hugh admitted. - -"Well, you aren't going to, either. The Nu Delts are much more important -than we are. They are stronger locally, and they've got a very powerful -national organization. But I don't think that you have a very clear -notion about the Nu Delts or us or any other fraternity. I heard you -talking about fraternities the other night, and, if you will forgive me -for being awfully frank, you were talking a lot of nonsense." - -Hugh leaned forward eagerly. He wasn't offended, and for the first time -that week he didn't feel that he was being rushed. - -"Well, you have a lot of sentimental notions about fraternities that are -all bull; that's all. You think that the brothers are really brothers, -that they stick by each other and all that sort of thing. You seem to -think, too, that the fraternities are democratic. They aren't, or there -wouldn't be any fraternities. You don't seem to realize that -fraternities are among other things political organizations, fighting -each other on the campus for dear life. You've heard fraternities this -week knocking each other. Well, about nine tenths of what's been said is -either lies or true of every fraternity on the campus. These -fraternities aren't working together for the good of Sanford; they're -working like hell to ruin each other. You think that you are going to -like every man in the fraternity you join. You won't. You'll hate some -of them." - -Hugh was aroused and indignant. "If you feel that way about it, why do -you stay in a fraternity?" - -Graham smiled gravely. "Don't get angry, please. I stay because the -fraternity has its virtues as well as its faults. I hated the fraternity -the first two years, and I'm afraid that you're going to, too. You see, -I had the same sort of notions you have--and it hurt like the devil when -they were knocked into a cocked hat. The fraternity is a pleasant club: -it gets you into campus activities; and it gives you a social life in -college that you can't get without it. It isn't very important to most -men after they graduate. Just try to raise some money from the alumni -some time, and you'll find out. Some of them remain undergraduates all -their lives, and they think that the fraternity is important, but most -of them hardly think of it except when they come back to reunions. -They're more interested in their clubs or the Masons or something of -that sort." - -"My father hasn't remained an undergraduate all his life, but he's -interested in the Nu Delts," Hugh countered vigorously. - -"I suppose he is," Graham tactfully admitted, "but you'll find that most -men aren't. But that doesn't matter. You aren't an alumnus yet; you're a -freshman, and a fraternity is a darn nice thing to have around while you -are in college. - -"What I am going to say now," he continued, hesitating, "is pretty -touchy, and I hope that you won't be offended. I have been trying to -impress on you that the fraternity is most important while you are in -college, and, believe me, it's damned important. A fellow has a hell of -a time if he gets into the wrong fraternity.... I am sure that you are -going to get a lot of bids. Don't choose hastily. Spend to-morrow -thinking the various bunches over--and choose the one that has the -fellows that you like best, no matter what its standing on the campus -is. Be sure that you like the fellows; that is all-important. We want -you to come to us. I think that you would fit in here, but I am not -going to urge you. Think us over. If you like us, accept our bid; if you -don't, go some fraternity where you do like the fellows. And that's my -warning about the Nu Delts. Be sure that you like the fellows, or most -of them, anyway, before you accept their bid. Have you thought them -over?" - -"No," Hugh admitted, "I haven't." - -He didn't like Graham's talk; he thought that it was merely very clever -rushing. He did Graham an injustice. Graham had been strongly attracted -to Hugh and felt sure that he would be making a serious mistake if he -joined Nu Delta. Hugh's reaction, however, was natural. He had been -rushed in dozens of ingenious ways for a week; he had little reason, -therefore, to trust Graham or anybody else. - -Graham stood up. "I have a feeling, Carver," he said slowly, "that I -have flubbed this talk. I am sure that you'll know some day that I was -really disinterested and wanted to do my best for you." - -Hugh was softened--and smiled shyly as he lifted himself out of his -chair. "I know you did," he said with more gratitude in his voice than -he quite felt, "and I'm very grateful, but I'm so woozy now that I -don't know what to think." - -"I don't wonder. To tell you the truth, I am, too. I haven't got to bed -earlier than three o'clock any night this week, and right now I hardly -care if we pledge anybody to-morrow night." He continued talking as they -walked slowly down the stairs. "One more bit of advice. Don't go -anywhere else to-night. Go home to bed, and to-morrow think over what -I've told you. And," he added, holding out his hand, "even if you don't -come our way, I hope I see a lot of you before the end of the term." - -Hugh clasped his hand. "You sure will. Thanks a lot. Good night." - -"Good night." - -Hugh did go straight to his room and tried to think, but the effort met -with little success. He wanted desperately to receive a bid from Nu -Delta, and if he didn't--well, nothing else much mattered. Graham's -assertion that Nu Delta would bid him no longer brought him any comfort. -Why should Graham know what Nu Delta was going to do? - -Shortly after eleven Carl came in and threw himself wearily into a -chair. For a few minutes neither boy said anything; they stared into the -fire and frowned. Finally Carl spoke. - -"I can go Alpha Sig if I want," he said softly. - -Hugh looked up. "Good!" he exclaimed, honestly pleased. "But I hope we -can both go Nu Delt. Did they come right out and bid you?" - -"Er--no. Not exactly. It's kinda funny." Carl obviously wanted to tell -something and didn't know how to go about it. - -"What do you mean 'funny'? What happened?" - -Carl shifted around in his chair nervously, filled his pipe, lighted it, -and then forgot to smoke. - -"Well," he began slowly, "Morton--you know that Alpha Sig, Clem Morton, -the senior--well, he got me off into a corner to-night and talked to me -quite a while, shot me a heavy line of dope. At first I didn't get him -at all. He was talking about how they needed new living-room furniture -and that sort of thing. Finally I got him. It's like this--well, it's -this way: they need money. Oh, hell! Hugh, don't you see? They want -money--and they know I've got it. All I've got to do is to let them know -that I'll make the chapter a present of a thousand or two after -initiation--and I can be an Alpha Sig." - -Hugh was sitting tensely erect and staring at Carl dazedly. - -"You mean," he asked slowly, "that they want you to buy your way in?" - -Carl gave a short, hard laugh. "Well, nobody said anything vulgar like -that, Hugh, but you've got the big idea." - -"The dirty pups! The goddamn stinkers! I hope you told Morton to go -straight to hell." Hugh jumped up and stood over Carl excitedly. - -"Keep your shirt on, Hugh. No, I didn't tell him to go to hell. I didn't -say anything, but I know that all I've got to do to get an Alpha Sig bid -to-morrow night is to let Morton know that I'd like to make the chapter -a present. And I'm not sure--but I think maybe I'll do it." - -"What!" Hugh cried. "You wouldn't, Carl! You know damn well you -wouldn't." He was almost pleading. - -"Hey, quit yelling and sit down." He got up, shoved Hugh back into his -chair, and then sat down again. "I want to make one of the Big Three; -I've got to. I don't believe that either Nu Delt or Kappa Zete is going -to bid me. See? This is my only chance--and I think that I'm going to -take it." He spoke deliberately, staring pensively into the fire. - -"I don't see how you can even think of such a thing," Hugh said in -painful wonderment. "Why, I'd rather never join a fraternity than buy -myself into one." - -"You aren't me." - -"No, I'm not you. Listen, Carl." Hugh turned in his chair and faced -Carl, who kept his eyes on the dying fire. "I'm going to say something -awfully mean, but I hope you won't get mad.... You remember you told -me once that you weren't a gentleman. I didn't believe you, but if you -buy yourself into that--that bunch of--of gutter-pups, I'll--I'll--oh, -hell, Carl, I'll have to believe it." He was painfully embarrassed, very -much in earnest, and dreadfully unhappy. - -"I told you that I wasn't a gentleman," Carl said sullenly. "Now you -know it." - -"I don't know anything of the sort. I'll never believe that you could do -such a thing." He stood up again and leaned over Carl, putting his hand -on his shoulder. "Listen, Carl," he said soberly, earnestly, "I promise -that I won't go Nu Delt or any other fraternity unless they take you, -too, if you'll promise me not to go Alpha Sig." - -Carl looked up wonderingly. "What!" he exclaimed. "You'll turn down Nu -Delt if they don't bid me, too?" - -"Yes, Nu Delt or Kappa Zete or any other bunch. Promise me," he urged; -"promise me." - -Carl understood the magnitude of the sacrifice offered, and his eyes -became dangerously soft. "God! you're white, Hugh," he whispered -huskily, "white as hell. You go Nu Delt if they ask you--but I promise -you that I won't go Alpha Sig even if they bid me without pay." He held -out his hand, and Hugh gripped it hard. "I promise," he repeated, "on my -word of honor." - -At seven o'clock Saturday evening every freshman who had any reason at -all to think that he would get a bid--and some that had no -reason--collected in nervous groups in the living-room of the Union. At -the stroke of seven they were permitted to move up to a long row of -tables which were covered with large envelopes, one for every freshman. -They were arranged in alphabetical order, and in an incredibly short -time each man found the one addressed to him. Some of the envelopes were -stuffed with cards, each containing the freshman's name and the name of -the fraternity bidding him; some of them contained only one or two -cards--and some of them were empty. The boys who drew empty envelopes -instantly left the Union without a word to anybody; the others tried to -find a free space where they could scan their cards unobserved. They -were all wildly excited and nervous. One glance at the cards, and their -faces either lighted with joy or went white with disappointment. - -Hugh found ten cards in his envelope--and one of them had Nu Delta -written on it. His heart leaped; for a moment he thought that he was -going to cry. Then he rushed around the Union looking for Carl. He found -him staring at a fan of cards, which he was holding like a hand of -bridge. - -"What luck?" Hugh cried. - -Carl handed him the cards. "Lamp those," he said, "and then explain. -They've got me stopped." - -He had thirteen bids, one from every fraternity in good standing, -including the so-called Big Three. - -When Hugh saw the Nu Delta card he yelled with delight. - -"I got a Nu Delt, too." His voice was trembling with excitement. "You'll -go with me, won't you?" - -"Of course, Hugh. But I don't understand." - -"Oh, what's the dif? Let's go." - -He tucked his arm in Carl's, and the two of them passed out of the Union -on their way to the Nu Delta house. Later both of them understood. - -Carl's good looks, his excellent clothes, his money, and the fact that -he had been to an expensive preparatory school were enough to insure him -plenty of bids even if he had been considerably less of a gentleman than -he was. - -Already the campus was ringing with shouts as freshmen entered -fraternity houses, each freshman being required to report at once to the -fraternity whose bid he was accepting. - -When Carl and Hugh walked up the Nu Delta steps, they were seized by -waiting upper-classmen and rushed into the living-room, where they were -received with loud cheers, slapped on the back, and passed around the -room, each upper-classman shaking hands with them so vigorously that -their hands hurt for an hour afterward. What pleasant pain! Each new -arrival was similarly received, but the excitement did not last long. -Both the freshmen and the upper-classmen were too tired to keep the -enthusiasm at the proper pitch. At nine o'clock the freshmen were sent -home with orders to report the next evening at eight. - -Carl and Hugh, proudly conscious of the pledge buttons in the lapels of -their coats, walked slowly across the campus, spent and weary, but -exquisitely happy. - -"They bid me on account of you," Carl said softly. "They didn't think -they could get you unless they asked me, too." - -"No," Hugh replied, "you're wrong. They took you for yourself. They knew -you would go where I did, and they were sure that I would go their way." - -Hugh was quite right. The Nu Deltas had felt sure of both of them and -had not rushed them harder because they were too busy to waste any time -on certainties. - -Carl stopped suddenly. "God, Hugh," he exclaimed. "Just suppose I had -offered the Alpha Sigs that cash. God!" - -"Aren't you glad you didn't?" Hugh asked happily. - -"Glad? Glad? Boy, I'm bug-house. And," he added softly, "I know the lad -I've got to thank." - -"Aw, go to hell." - - * * * * * - -The initiation season lasted two weeks, and the neophytes found that the -dormitory initiations had been merely child's play. They had to account -for every hour, and except for a brief time allowed every day for -studying, they were kept busy making asses of themselves for the -delectation of the upper-classmen. - -In the Nu Delta house a freshman had to be on guard every hour of the -day up to midnight. He was forced to dress himself in some outlandish -costume, the more outlandish the better, and announce every one who -entered or left the house. "Mr. Standish entering," he would bawl, or, -"Mr. Kerwin leaving." If he bawled too loudly, he was paddled; if he -didn't bawl loudly enough, he was paddled; and if there was no fault to -be found with his bawling; he was paddled anyway. Every freshman had to -supply his own paddle, a broad, stout oak affair sold at the cooperative -store at a handsome profit. - -If a freshman reported for duty one minute late, he was paddled; if he -reported one minute early, he was paddled. There was no end to the -paddling. "Assume the angle," an upper-classman would roar. The -unfortunate freshman then humbly bent forward, gripped his ankles with -his hands--and waited. The worst always happened. The upper-classman -brought the paddle down with a resounding whack on the seat of the -freshman's trousers. - -"Does it hurt?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Another resounding whack. "_What?_" - -"No--no, sir." - -"Oh, well, if it doesn't hurt, I might as well give you another one." -And he gave him another one. - -A freshman was paddled if he forgot to say "sir" to an upper-classman; -he was paddled if he neglected to touch the floor with his fingers every -time he passed through a door in the fraternity house; he was paddled if -he laughed when an upper-classman told a joke, and he was paddled if he -didn't laugh; he was paddled if he failed to return from an errand in an -inconceivably short time: he was paddled for every and no reason, but -mainly because the upper-classmen, the sophomores particularly, got -boundless delight out of doing the paddling. - -Every night a freshman stood on the roof of the Nu Delta house and -announced the time every fifteen seconds. "One minute and fifteen -seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; one minute -and thirty seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; -one minute and forty-five seconds after nine, and all's well in the -halls of Nu Delta," and so on for an hour. Then he was relieved by -another freshman, who took up the chant. - -Nightly the freshmen had to entertain the upper-classmen, and if the -entertainment wasn't satisfactory, as it never was, the entertainers -were paddled. They had to run races, shoving pennies across the floor -with their noses. The winner was paddled for going too fast--"Didn't he -have any sense of sportsmanship?"--and the loser was paddled for going -too slow. Most of the freshmen lost skin off their noses and foreheads; -all of them shivered at the sight of a paddle. By the end of the first -week they were whispering to each other how many blisters they had on -their buttocks. - -It was a bitterly cold night in late February when the Nu Deltas took -the freshmen for their "walk." They drove in automobiles fifteen miles -into the country and then left the freshmen to walk back. It was four -o'clock in the morning when the miserable freshmen reached the campus, -half frozen, unutterably weary, but thankful that the end of the -initiation was at hand. - -Hugh was thankful for another thing; the Nu Deltas did not brand. He had -noticed several men in the swimming-pool with tiny Greek letters branded -on their chests or thighs. The branded ones seemed proud of their -permanent insignia, but the idea of a fraternity branding its members -like beef-cattle was repugnant to Hugh. He told Carl that he was darn -glad the Nu Deltas were above that sort of thing, and, surprisingly, -Carl agreed with him. - -The next night they were formally initiated. The Nu Delta house seemed -strangely quiet; levity was strictly prohibited. The freshmen were given -white robes such as the upper-classmen were wearing, the president -excepted, who wore a really handsome robe of blue and silver. - -Then they marched up-stairs to the "goat room." Once there, the -president mounted a dais; a "brother" stood on each side of him. Hugh -was so much impressed by the ritual, the black hangings of the room, the -fraternity seal over the dais, the ornate chandelier, the long speeches -of the president and his assistants, that he failed to notice that many -of the brothers were openly bored. - -Eventually each freshman was led forward by an upper-classman. He knelt -on the lowest step of the dais and repeated after the president the oath -of allegiance. Then one of the assisting brothers whispered to him the -password and taught him the "grip," a secret and elaborate method of -shaking hands, while the other pinned the jeweled pin to his vest. - -When each freshman had been received into the fraternity, the entire -chapter marched in twos down-stairs, singing the fraternity song. The -initiation was over; Carl and Hugh were Nu Delts. - -The whole ceremony had moved Hugh deeply, so deeply that he had hardly -been able to repeat the oath after the president. He thought the ritual -very beautiful, more beautiful even than the Easter service at church. -He left the Nu Delta house that night feeling a deeper loyalty for the -fraternity than he had words to express. He and Carl walked back to -Surrey 19 in silence. Neither was capable of speech, though both of them -wanted to give expression to their emotion in some way. They reached -their room. - -"Well," said Hugh shyly, "I guess I'll go to bed." - -"Me, too." Then Carl moved hesitatingly to where Hugh was standing. He -held out his hand and grinned, but his eyes were serious. - -"Good night--brother." - -Their hands met in the sacred grip. - -"Good night--brother." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -To Hugh the remainder of the term was simply a fight to get an -opportunity to study. The old saying, "if study interferes with college, -cut out study," did not appeal to him. He honestly wanted to do good -work, but he found that the chance to do it was rare. Some one always -seemed to be in his room eager to talk; there was the fraternity meeting -to attend every Monday night; early in the term there was at least one -hockey or basketball game a week; later there were track meets, baseball -games, and tennis matches; he had to attend Glee Club rehearsals twice a -week; he ran every afternoon either in the gymnasium or on the cinder -path; some one always seduced him into going to the movies; he was -constantly being drawn into bull sessions; there was an occasional -concert: and besides all these distractions, there was a fraternity -dance, the excitement of Prom, a trip to three cities with the Glee -Club, and finally a week's vacation at home at Easter. - -Worst of all, none of his instructors was inspiring. He had been -assigned to a new section in Latin, and in losing Alling he lost the one -really enjoyable teacher he had had. The others were conscientious, -more or less competent, but there was little enthusiasm in their -teaching, nothing to make a freshman eager either to attend their -classes or to study the lessons they assigned. They did not make the -acquiring of knowledge a thrilling experience; they made it a duty--and -Hugh found that duty exceedingly irksome. - -He attended neither the fraternity dance nor the Prom. He had looked -forward enthusiastically to the "house dance," but after he had, along -with the other men in his delegation, cleaned the house from garret to -basement, he suddenly took to his bed with grippe. He groaned with -despair when Carl gave him glowing accounts of the dance and the -"janes." Carl for once, however, was circumspect; he did not tell Hugh -all that happened. He would have been hard put to explain his own -reticence, but although he thought "the jane who got pie-eyed" had been -enormously funny, he decided not to tell Hugh about her or the pie-eyed -brothers. - -No freshman was allowed to attend the Prom, but along with the other men -who weren't "dragging women" Hugh walked the streets and watched the -girls. There was a tea-dance at the fraternity house during Prom week. -Hugh said that he got a great kick out of it, but, as a matter of fact, -he remained only a short time; there was a hectic quality to both the -girls and the talk that confused him. For some reason he didn't like the -atmosphere; and he didn't know why. His excuse to the brothers and to -himself for leaving early was that he was in training and not supposed -to dance. - -Track above all things was absorbing his interest. He could hardly think -of anything else. He lay awake nights dreaming of the race he would run -against Raleigh. Sanford had three dual track meets a year, but the -first two were with small colleges and considered of little importance. -Only a point winner in the Raleigh meet was granted his letter. - -Hugh won the hundred in the sophomore-freshman meet and in a meet with -the Raleigh freshmen, so that he was given his class numerals. He did -nothing, however, in the Raleigh meet; he was much too nervous to run -well, breaking three times at the mark. He was set back two yards and -was never able to regain them. For a time he was bitterly despondent, -but he soon cheered up when he thought of the three years ahead of him. - -Spring brought first rain and slush and then the "sings." There was a -fine stretch of lawn in the center of the campus, and on clear nights -the students gathered there for a sing, one class on each side of the -lawn. First the seniors sang a college song, then the juniors, then the -sophomores, and then the freshmen. After each song, the other classes -cheered the singers, except when the sophomores and freshmen sang: they -always "razzed" each other. Hugh led the freshmen, and he never failed -to get a thrill out of singing a clear note and hearing his classmates -take it up. - -After each class had sung three or four songs, the boys gathered in the -center of the lawn, sang the college hymn, gave a cheer, and the sing -was over. - -On such nights, however, the singing really continued for hours. The -Glee Club often sang from the Union steps; groups of boys wandered arm -in arm around the campus singing; on every fraternity steps there were -youths strumming banjos and others "harmonizing": here, there, -everywhere young voices were lifted in song--not joyous nor jazzy but -plaintive and sentimental. Adeline's sweetness was extolled by unsure -barytones and "whisky" tenors; and the charms of Rosie O'Grady were -chanted in "close harmony" in every corner of the campus: - - - "Sweet Rosie O'Grady, - She's my pretty rose; - She's my pretty lady, - As every one knows. - And when we are married, - Oh, how happy we'll be, - For I love sweet Rosie O'Grady - And Rosie O'Grady loves me." - - -Hugh loved those nights: the shadows of the elms, the soft spring -moonlight, the twanging banjos, the happy singing. He would never, so -long as he lived, hear "Rosie O'Grady" without surrendering to a tender, -sentimental mood; that song would always mean the campus and singing -youth. - -Suddenly examinations threw their baleful influence over the campus -again. Once more the excitement, but not so great this time, the -cramming, the rumors of examinations "getting out," the seminars, the -tutoring sections, the nervousness, the fear. - -Hugh, however, was surer of himself than he had been the first term, and -although he had no reason to be proud of the grades he received, he was -not particularly ashamed of them. - -He and Carl left the same day but by different trains. They had agreed -to room together again in Surrey 19; so they didn't feel that the -parting for the summer was very important. - -"You'll write, won't you, old man?" - -"Sure, Hugh--surest thing you know. Say, it don't seem possible that our -freshman year's over already. Why, hell, Hugh, we're sophomores." - -"So we are! What do you know about that?" Hugh's eyes shone. "Gosh!" - -Carl looked at his watch. "Hell, I've got to beat it." He picked up his -suit-case, dropped it, shook hands vigorously with Hugh, snatched up his -suit-case, and was off with a final, "Good-by, Hugh, old boy," sounding -behind him. - -Hugh settled back into a chair. He had half an hour to wait. - -"A sophomore.... Gosh!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Hugh spent the summer at home, working on the farm, reading a little, -and occasionally visiting a lake summer resort a few miles away. Helen -had left Merrytown to attend a secretarial school in a neighboring city, -and Hugh was genuinely glad to find her gone when he returned from -college. Helen was becoming not only a bore but a problem. Besides, he -met a girl at Corley Lake, the summer resort, whom he found much more -fascinating. For a month or two he thought that he was in love with -Janet Harton. Night after night he drove to Corley Lake in his father's -car, sometimes dancing with Janet in the pavilion, sometimes canoeing -with her on the lake, sometimes taking her for long rides in the car, -but often merely wandering through the pines with her or sitting on the -shore of the lake and staring at the rippling water. - -Janet was small and delicate; she seemed almost fragile. She did -everything daintily--like a little girl playing tea-party. Her hands and -feet were exquisitely small, her features childlike and indefinite, -except her little coral mouth, which was as clearly outlined with color -as a doll's and as mobile as a fluttering leaf. She had wide blue eyes -and hair that was truly golden. Strangely, she had not bobbed it but -wore it bound into a shining coil around her head. - -Hugh wrote a poem to her. It began thus: - - - Maiden with the clear blue eyes, - Lady with the golden hair, - Exquisite child, serenely wise, - Sweetly tender, morning fair. - - -He wasn't sure that it was a very good poem; there was something -reminiscent about the first line, and he was dubious about "morning -fair." He had, however, studied German for a year in high school, and he -guessed that if _morgenschön_ was all right in German it was all right -in English, too. - -They rarely talked. Hugh was content to sit for hours with the delicate -child nestling in his arm, her hand lying passive and cool in his. She -made him feel very strong and protective. Nights, he dreamed of doing -brave deeds for her, of saving her from terrible dangers. At first her -vague, fleeting kisses thrilled him, but as the weeks went by and his -passion grew, he found them strangely unsatisfying. - -When she cuddled her lovely head in the hollow of his shoulder, he -would lean forward and whisper: "Kiss me, Janet. Kiss me." Obediently -she would turn her face upward, her little mouth pursed into a coral -bud, but if he held her too tightly or prolonged the kiss, she pushed -him away or turned her face. Then he felt repelled, chilled. She kissed -him much as she kissed her mother every night, and he wanted--well he -didn't quite know what he did want except that he didn't want to be -kissed _that_ way. - -Finally he protested. "What's the matter, Janet?" he asked gently. -"Don't you love me?" - -"Of course," she answered calmly in her small flute-like voice; "of -course I love you, but you are so rough. You mustn't kiss me hard like -that; it isn't nice." - -Nice! Hugh felt as if she had slapped his face. Then he knew that she -didn't understand at all. He tried to excuse her by telling himself that -she was just a child--she was within a year of his own age--and that she -would love him the way he did her when she grew older; but down in his -heart he sensed the fact that she wasn't capable of love, that she -merely wanted to be petted and caressed as a child did. The shadows and -the moonlight did not move her as they did him, and she thought that he -was silly when he said that he could hear a song in the night breeze. -She had said that his poem was very pretty. That was all. Well, maybe -it wasn't a very good poem, but it had--well, it had--it had something -in it that wasn't just pretty. - -He began to visit the lake less often and to wish that September and the -opening of college would arrive. When the day finally came to return, he -was almost as much excited as he had been the year before. Gosh! it -would be good to see Carl again. The bum had written only once. Yeah, -and Pudge Jamieson, too, and Larry Stillwell, and Bill Freeman, -and--yes, by golly! Merton Billings. He'd be glad to see old Fat -Billings. He wondered if Merton was as fat as ever and as pure. And all -the brothers at the Nu Delta house. He'd been too busy to get really -acquainted with them last year; but this year, by gosh, he'd get to know -all of them. It certainly would be great to be back and be a sophomore -and make the little frosh stand around. - -He didn't carry his suit-case up the hill this time; he checked it and -sent a freshman for it later. When he arrived at Surrey 19 Carl was -already there--and he was kneeling before a trunk when Hugh walked into -the room. Both of them instantly remembered the identical scene of the -year before. - -Carl jumped to his feet. "Hullo--who are you?" he demanded, his face -beaming. - -Hugh pretended to be frightened and shy. "I'm Hugh Carver. I--I guess -I'm going to room with you." - -"You sure are!" yelled Carl, jumping over the trunk and landing on Hugh. -"God! I'm glad to see you. Put it there." They shook hands and stared at -each other with shining eyes. - -Then they began to talk, interrupting each other, gesticulating, -occasionally slapping each other violently on the back or knee, shouting -with laughter as one of them told of a summer experience that struck -them as funny. They were both so glad to get back to college, so glad to -see each other, that they were almost hysterical. And when they left -Surrey 19 arm in arm on their way to the Nu Delta house "to see the -brothers," their cup of bliss was full to the brim and running over. - -"Criminy, the ol' campus sure does look good," said Hugh ecstatically. -"Watch the frosh work." He was suddenly reminded of something. "Hey, -freshman!" he yelled at a big, red-faced youngster who was to be -full-back on the football team a year hence. - -The freshman came on a run. "Yes--yes, sir?" - -"Here's a check. Take it down to the station and get my suit-case. Take -it up to Surrey Nineteen and put it in the room. The door's open. Hurry -up now; I'm going to want it pretty soon." - -"Yes, sir. I'll hurry." And the freshman was off running. - -Hugh and Carl grinned at each other, linked arms again, and continued -their way across the campus. When they entered the Nu Delta house a -shout went up. "Hi, Carl! Hi, Hugh! Glad to see you back. Didya have a -good summer? Put it there, ol' kid"--and they shook hands, gripping each -other's forearm at the same time. - - * * * * * - -Hugh tried hard to become a typical sophomore and failed rather badly. -He retained much of the shyness and diffidence that gives the freshman -his charm, and he did not succeed very well in acquiring the swagger, -the cocky, patronizing manner, the raucous self-assurance that -characterize the true sophomore. - -He found, too, that he couldn't lord it over the freshmen very well, and -at times he was nothing less than a renegade to his class. He was -constantly giving freshmen correct information about their problems, and -during the dormitory initiations he more than once publicly objected to -some "stunt" that seemed to him needlessly insulting to the initiates. -Because he was an athlete, his opinion was respected, and quite -unintentionally he won several good friends among the freshmen. His -objections had all been spontaneous, and he was rather sorry about them -afterward. He felt that he must be soft, that he ought to be able to -stand anything that anybody else could. Further, he felt that there -must be something wrong with his sense of humor; things that struck lots -of his classmates as funny seemed merely disgusting to him. - -He wanted very much to tell Carl about Janet, but for several weeks the -opportunity did not present itself. There was too much excitement about -the campus; the mood of the place was all wrong, and Hugh, although he -didn't know it, was very sensitive to moods and atmosphere. - -Finally one night in October he and Carl were seated in their big chairs -before the fire. They had been walking that afternoon, and Hugh had been -swept outside of himself by the brilliance of the autumn foliage. He was -emotionally and physically tired, feeling that vague, melancholy -happiness that comes after an intense but pleasant experience. Carl -leaned back to the center-table and switched off the study light. - -"Pleasanter with just the firelight," he said quietly. He, too, had -something that he wanted to tell, and the less light the better. - -Hugh sighed and relaxed comfortably into his chair. The shadows were -thick and mysterious behind them; the flames leaped merrily in the -fireplace. Both boys sat silent, staring into the fire. - -Finally Hugh spoke. - -"I met a girt this summer, Carl," he said softly. - -"Yeah?" - -"Yeah. Little peach. Awf'lly pretty. Dainty, you know. Awf'lly -dainty--like a little kid. You know." - -Carl had slumped down into his chair. He was smoking his pipe and -staring pensively at the flames. "Un-huh. Go on." - -"Well, I fell pretty hard. She was so--er, dainty. She always reminded -me of a little girl playing lady. She had golden hair and blue eyes, the -bluest eyes I've ever seen; oh, lots bluer than mine, lots bluer. And -little bits of hands and feet." - -Carl continued to puff his pipe and stare at the fire. "Pet?" he asked -dreamily. - -"Uh-huh. Yeah, she petted--but she was kinda funny--cold, you know, and -kinda scared. Gee, Carl, I was crazy about her. I--I even wrote her a -poem. I guess it wasn't very good, but I don't think she knew what it -was about. I guess I'm off her now, though. She's too cold. I don't want -a girl to fall over me--my last girl did that--but, golly, Carl, Janet -didn't understand. I don't think she knows anything about love." - -"Some of 'em don't," Carl remarked philosophically, slipping deeper into -his chair. "They just pet." - -"That's the way she was. She liked me to hold her and kiss her just as -long as I acted like a big brother, but, criminy, when I felt that soft -little thing in my arms, I didn't feel like a big brother; I loved her -like hell.... She was awfully sweet," he added regretfully; "I wish she -wasn't so cold." - -"Hard luck, old man," said Carl consolingly, "hard luck. Guess you -picked an iceberg." - -For a few minutes the room was quiet except for the crackling of the -fire, which was beginning to burn low. The shadows were creeping up on -the boys; the flames were less merry. - -Carl took his pipe out of his mouth and drawled softly, "I had better -luck." - -Hugh pricked up his ears. "You haven't really fallen in love, have you?" -he demanded eagerly. Carl had often said that he would never fall in -love, that he was "too wise" to women. - -"No, I didn't fall in love; nothing like that. I met a bunch of janes -down at Bar Harbor. Some of them I'd known before, but I met some new -ones, too. Had a damn good time. Some of those janes certainly could -neck, and they were ready for it any time. Gee, if the old lady hadn't -been there, I'd a been potted about half the time. As it was, I drank -enough gin and Scotch to float a battle-ship. Well, the old lady had to -go to New York on account of some business; so I went down to Christmas -Cove to visit some people I know there. Christmas Cove's a nice place; -not so high-hat as Bar Harbor, but still it's a nice place." - -Hugh felt that Carl was leaving the main track, and he hastened to -shunt him back. "Sure," he said in cheerful agreement; "sure it is--but -what happened?" - -"What happened? Oh--oh, yes!" Carl brought himself back to the present -with an obvious effort. "Sure, I'll tell you what happened. Well, there -was a girl there named Elaine Marston. She wasn't staying with the folks -I was, but they knew her, so I saw a lot of her. See?" - -"Sure." Hugh wished he would hurry up. Carl didn't usually wander all -over when telling a story. This must be something special. - -"Well, I saw lots of her. Lots. Pretty girl, nice family and everything, -but she liked her booze and she liked to pet. Awful hot kid. Well, one -night we went to a dance, and between dances we had a lot of gin I had -brought with me. Good stuff, too. I bought it off a guy who brought it -down from Canada himself. Where was I? Oh, yes, at the dance. We both -got pie-eyed; I was all liquored up, and I guess she was, too. After the -dance was over, I dared her to walk over to South Bristol--that's just -across the island, you know--and then walk back again. Well, we hadn't -gone far when we decided to sit down. We were both kinda dizzy from the -gin. You have to go through the woods, you know, and it's dark as hell -in there at night.... We sat down among some ferns and I began to pet -her. Don't know why--just did.... Oh, hell! what's the use of going -into details? You can guess what happened." - -Hugh sat suddenly erect. "You didn't--" - -Carl stood up and stretched. "Yeah," he yawned, "I did it. Lots of times -afterwards." - -Hugh was dazed. He didn't know what to think. For an instant he was -shocked, and then he was envious. "Wonder if Janet would have gone the -whole way," flitted across his mind. He instantly dismissed the -question; he felt that it wasn't fair to Janet. But Carl? Gosh! - -Carl yawned again. "Great stuff," he said nonchalantly. "Sleepy as hell. -Guess I'll hit the hay." He eyed Hugh suspiciously. "You aren't shocked, -are you? You don't think I'm a moral leper or anything like that?" He -attempted to be light but wasn't altogether successful. - -"Of course not." Hugh denied the suggestion vehemently, and yet down in -his heart he felt a keen disappointment. He hardly knew why he was -disappointed, but he was. "Going to bed?" he asked as casually as he -could. - -"Yeah. Good night." - -"Good night, old man." - -Each boy went to his own bedroom, Hugh to go to bed and think Carl's -story over. It thrilled him, and he envied Carl, and yet--and yet he -wished Carl hadn't done it. It made him and Carl different--sorta not -the same; no that wasn't it. He didn't know just what the trouble was, -but there was a sharp sting of disillusionment that hurt. He would have -been more confused had he known what was happening in Carl's room. - -Carl had walked into his own bedroom, lighted the light, and closed the -door. Then he walked to the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror, -stared a long time as if the face were somehow new to him. - -There was a picture of the "old lady" on the dresser. It caught his eye, -and he flinched. It seemed to look at him reproachfully. He thought of -his mother, and he thought of how he had bluffed Hugh. He had cried -after his first experience with the girl. - -He looked again into the mirror. "You goddamn hypocrite," he said -softly; "you goddamn hypocrite." His lip curled in contempt at his -image. - -He began to undress rapidly. The eyes of the "old lady" in the picture -seemed to follow him around the room. The thought of her haunted him. -Desperately, he switched out the light. - -Once in bed, he rolled over on his stomach and buried his face in the -pillow. "God!" he whispered. "God!" - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -Sanford defeated Raleigh this year in football, and for a time the -college was wild with excitement and delight. Most of the free lumber in -Haydensville was burned in a triumphant bonfire, and many of the -undergraduates celebrated so joyously with their winnings that they -looked sadly bedraggled for several days afterward. - -The victory was discussed until the boys were thoroughly sick of it, and -then they settled down to a normal life, studying; playing pool, -billiards, and cards; going to the movies, reading a little, and holding -bull sessions. - -Hugh attended many bull sessions. Some of them he found interesting, but -many of them were merely orgies of filthy talk, the participants vying -with one another in telling the dirtiest stories; and although Hugh was -not a prig, he was offended by a dirty story that was told merely for -the sake of its dirt. Pudge Jamieson's stories were smutty, but they -were funny, too, and he could send Hugh into paroxysms of laughter any -time that he chose. - -One night in late November Hugh was in Gordon Ross's room in Surrey -along with four others. Ross was a senior, a quiet man with gray eyes, -rather heavy features, and soft brown hair. He was considerably older -than the others, having worked for several years before he came to -college. He listened to the stories that were being told, occasionally -smiled, but more often studied the group curiously. - -The talk became exceedingly nasty, and Hugh was about to leave in -disgust when the discussion suddenly turned serious. - -"Do you know," said George Winsor abruptly, "I wonder why we hold these -smut sessions. I sit here and laugh like a fool and am ashamed of myself -half the time. And this isn't the only smut session that's going on -right now. I bet there's thirty at least going on around the campus. Why -are we always getting into little groups and covering each other with -filth? College men are supposed to be gentlemen, and we talk like a lot -of gutter-pups." Winsor was a sophomore, a fine student, and thoroughly -popular. He looked like an unkempt Airedale. His clothes, even when new, -never looked neat, and his rusty hair refused to lie flat. He had an -eager, quick way about him, and his brown eyes were very bright and -lively. - -"Yes, that's what I want to know," Hugh chimed in, forgetting all about -his desire to leave. "I'm always sitting in on bull sessions, but I -think they re rotten. About every so often I make up my mind that I -won't take part in another one, and before I know it somebody's telling -me the latest and I'm listening for all I'm worth." - -"That's easy,"' Melville Burbank answered. He was a junior with a -brilliant record. "You're merely sublimating your sex instincts, that's -all. If you played around with cheap women more, you wouldn't be -thinking about sex all the time and talking smut." - -"You're crazy!" It was Keith Nutter talking, a sophomore notorious for -his dissipations. "Hell, I'm out with bags all the time, as you damn -well know. My sex instincts don't need sublimating, or whatever you call -it, and I talk smut as much as anybody--more than some." - -"Perhaps you're just naturally dirty," Burbank said, his voice edged -with sarcasm. He didn't like Nutter. The boy seemed gross to him. - -"Go to hell! I'm no dirtier than anybody else." Nutter was not only -angry but frankly hurt. "The only difference between me and the rest of -you guys is that I admit that I chase around with rats, and the rest of -you do it on the sly. I'm no hypocrite." - -"Oh, come off, Keith," Gordon Ross said quietly; "you're not fair. I -admit that lots of the fellows are chasing around with rats on the sly, -but lots of them aren't, too. More fellows go straight around this -college than you think. I know a number that have never touched a woman. -They just hate to admit they're pure, that's all; and you take their -bluff for the real thing." - -"You've got to show me." Nutter was almost sullen. "I admit that I'm no -angel, but I don't believe that I'm a damn bit worse than the average. -Besides, what's wrong about it, anyhow? It's just as natural as eating, -and I don't see where there is anything worse about it." - -George Winsor stood up and leaned against the mantel. He ran his fingers -through his hair until it stood grotesquely on end. "Oh, that's the old -argument. I've heard it debated in a hundred bull sessions. One fellow -says it's all wrong, and another fellow says it's all right, and you -never get anywhere. I want somebody to tell me what's wrong about it and -what's right. God knows you don't find out in your classes. They have -Doc Conners give those smut talks to us in our freshman year, and a -devil of a lot of good they do. A bunch of fellows faint and have to be -lugged out, and the Doc gives you some sickening details about venereal -diseases, and that's as far as you get. Now, I'm all messed up about -this sex business, and I'll admit that I'm thinking about it all the -time, too. Some fellows say it's all right to have a woman, and some -fellows say it's all wrong, but I notice none of them have any use for a -woman who isn't straight." - -All of the boys were sitting in easy-chairs except Donald Ferguson, who -was lying on the couch and listening in silence. He was a handsome youth -with Scotch blue eyes and sandy hair. Women were instantly attracted by -his good looks, splendid physique, slow smile, and quiet drawl. - -He spoke for the first time. "The old single-standard fight," he said, -propping his head on his hand. "I don't see any sense in scrapping about -that any more. We've got a single standard now. The girls go just as -fast as the fellows." - -"Oh, that's not so," Hugh exclaimed. "Girls don't go as far as fellows." - -Ferguson smiled pleasantly at Hugh and drawled; "Shut up, innocent; you -don't know anything about it. I tell you the old double standard has -gone all to hell." - -"You're exaggerating, Don, just to get Hugh excited," Ross said in his -quiet way. "There are plenty of decent girls. Just because a lot of them -pet on all occasions isn't any reason to say that they aren't straight. -I'm older than you fellows, and I guess I've had a lot more experience -than most of you. I've had to make my own way since I was a kid, and -I've bumped up against a lot of rough customers. I worked in a lumber -camp for a year, and after you've been with a gang like that for a -while, you'll understand the difference between them and college -fellows. Those boys are bad eggs. They just haven't any morals, that's -all. They turn into beasts every pay night; and bad as some of our -college parties are, they aren't a circumstance to a lumber town on pay -night." - -"That's no argument," George Winsor said excitedly, taking his pipe out -of his mouth and gesticulating with it. "Just because a lumberjack is a -beast is no reason that a college man is all right because he's less of -a beast. I tell you I get sick of my own thoughts, and I get sick of the -college when I hear about some things that are done. I keep straight, -and I don't know why I do, I despise about half the fellows that chase -around with rats, and sometimes I envy them like hell. Well, what's the -sense in me keeping straight? What's the sense in anybody keeping -straight? Fellows that don't seem to get along just as well as those -that do. What do you think, Mel? You've been reading Havelock Ellis and -a lot of ducks like that." - -Burbank tossed a cigarette butt into the fire and gazed into the flames -for a minute before speaking, his homely face serious and troubled. "I -don't know what to think," he replied slowly. "Ellis tells about some -things that make you fairly sick. So does Forel. The human race can be -awfully rotten. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm all mixed up. -Sometimes life just doesn't seem worth living to me, what with the filth -and the slums and the greed and everything. I've been taking a course -in sociology, and some of the things that Prof Davis has been telling us -make you wonder why the world goes on at all. Some poet has a line -somewhere about man's inhumanity to man, and I find myself thinking -about that all the time. The world's rotten as hell, and I don't see how -anything can be done about it. I don't think sometimes that it's worth -living in. I can understand why people commit suicide." He spoke softly, -gazing into the fire. - -Hugh had given him rapt attention. Suddenly he spoke up, forgetting his -resolve not to say anything more after Ferguson had called him -"innocent." "I think you're wrong, Mel," he said positively. "I was -reading a book the other day called 'Lavengro.' It's all about Gipsies. -Well, this fellow Lavengro was all busted up and depressed; he's just -about made up his mind to commit suicide when he meets a friend of his, -a Gipsy. He tells the Gipsy that he's going to bump himself off, that he -doesn't see anything in life to live for. Then the Gipsy answers him. -Gee, it hit me square in the eye, and I memorized it on the spot. I -think I can say it. He says: 'There's night and day, brother, both sweet -things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's -likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would -wish to die?' I think that's beautiful," he added simply, "and I think -it's true, too." - -"Good for you, Hugh," Ross said quietly. - -Hugh blushed with pleasure, but he was taken back by Nutter's vigorous -rejoinder. "Bunk!" he exclaimed. "Hooey! The sun, moon, and stars, and -all that stuff sounds pretty, but it isn't life. Life's earning a -living, and working like hell, and women, and pleasure. The 'Rubaiyat' -'s the only poem--if you're going to quote poetry. That's the only poem -I ever saw that had any sense to it. - - - "Come, Beloved, fill the Cup that clears - To-day of past Regrets and future Fears. - To-morrow? Why, To-morrow I may be - Myself with Yesterday's seven thousand Years. - - -You bet. You never can tell when you're going to be bumped off, and so -you might just as well have a good time while you can. You damn well -don't know what's coming after you kick the bucket." - -"Good stuff, the 'Rubaiyat,'" said Ferguson lazily. He was lying on his -back staring at the ceiling. "I bet I've read it a hundred times. When -they turn down an empty glass for me, it's going to be _empty_. I don't -know what I'm here for or where I'm going or why. 'Into this world and -why not knowing,' and so on. My folks sent me to Sunday-school and -brought me up to be a good little boy. I believed just about everything -they told me until I came to college. Now I know they told me a lot of -damned lies. And I've talked with a lot of fellows who've had the same -experience.... Anybody got a butt?" - -Burbank, who was nearest to him, passed him a package of cigarettes. -Ferguson extracted one, lighted it, blew smoke at the ceiling, and then -quietly continued, drawling lazily: "Most fellows don't tell their folks -anything, and there's no reason why they should, either. Our folks lie -to us from the time we are babies. They lie to us about birth and God -and life. My folks never told me the truth about anything. When I came -to college I wasn't very innocent about women, but I was about -everything else. I believed that God made the world in six days the way -the Bible says, and that some day the world was coming to an end and -that we'd all be pulled up to heaven where Christ would give us the -once-over. Then he'd ship some of us to hell and give the good ones -harps. Well, since I've found out that all that's hooey I don't believe -in much of anything." - -"I suppose you are talking about evolution," said Ross. "Well, Prof -Humbert says that evolutions hasn't anything to do with the Bible--He -says that science is science and that religion is religion and that the -two don't mix. He says that he holds by evolution but that that doesn't -make Christ's philosophy bad." - -"No," Burbank agreed, "it doesn't make it bad; but that isn't the point. -I've read the Bible, which I bet is more than the rest of you can say, -and I've read the Sermon on the Mount a dozen times. It's darn good -sense, but what good does it do? The world will never practice Christ's -philosophy. The Bible says, 'Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly -upward,' and, believe me, that's damn true. If people would be pure and -good, then Christ's philosophy would work, but they aren't pure and -good; they aren't made pure and good, they're made selfish, and bad: -they're made, mind you, made full of evil and lust. I tell you it's all -wrong. I've been reading and reading, and the more I read the more I'm -convinced that we're all rotten--and that if there is a god he made us -rotten." - -"You're wrong!" They all turned toward Winsor, who was still standing by -the fireplace; even Ferguson rolled over and looked at the excited boy. -"You're wrong," he repeated, "all wrong. I admit all that's been said -about parents. They do cheat us just as Don said. I never tell my folks -anything that really matters, and I don't know any other fellows that -do, either. I suppose there are some, but I don't know them. And I admit -that there is sin and vice, but I don't admit that Christ's philosophy -is useless. I've read the Sermon on the Mount, too. That's about all of -the Bible that I have read, but I've read that; and I tell you you're -all wrong. There is enough good in man to make that philosophy -practical. Why, there is more kindness and goodness around than we know -about. We see the evil, and we know we have lusts and--and things, but -we do good, too. And Hugh was right when he talked a while ago about the -beauty in the world. There's lots of it, lots and lots of it. There's -beautiful poetry and beautiful music and beautiful scenery; and there -are people who appreciate all of it. I tell you that in spite of -everything life is worth living. And I believe in Christ's philosophy, -too. I don't know whether He is the son of God or not--I think that He -must be--but that doesn't make any difference. Look at the wonderful -influence He has had." - -"Rot," said Burbank calmly, "absolute rot. There has never been a good -deed done in His name; just the Inquisition and the what-do-you-call-'ems -in Russia. Oh, yes, pogroms--and wars and robbing people. Christianity -is just a name; there isn't any such thing. And most of the professional -Christians that I've seen are damn fools. I tell you, George, it's all -wrong. We're all in the dark, and I don't believe the profs know any more -about it than we do." - -"Oh, yes, they do," Hugh exclaimed; "they must. Think of all the -studying they've done." - -"Bah." Burbank was contemptuous. "They've read a lot of books, that's -all. Most of them never had an idea in their lives. Oh, I know that -some of them think; if they didn't, I'd leave college to-morrow. It's -men like Davis and Maxwell and Henley and Jimpson who keep me here. But -most of the profs can't do anything more than spout a few facts that -they've got out of books. No, they don't know any more about it than we -do. We don't know why we're here or where we're going or what we ought -to do while we are here. And we get into groups and tell smutty stories -and talk about women and religion, and we don't know any more than when -we started. Think of all the talk that goes on around this college about -sex. There's no end to it. Some of the fellows say positively there's no -sense in staying straight; and a few, damn few, admit that they think a -fellow ought to leave women alone, but most of them are in a muddle." - -He rose and stretched. "I've got to be going--philosophy quiz -to-morrow." He smiled. "I don't agree with Nutter, and I don't agree -with George, and I don't agree with you, Don; and the worst of it is -that I don't agree with myself. You fellows can bull about this some -more if you want to; I've got to study." - -"No, they can't," said Ross. "Not here, anyway. I've got to study, too. -The whole of you'll have to get out." - -The boys rose and stretched. Ferguson rolled lazily off the couch. -"Well," he said with a yawn, "this has been very edifying. I've heard -it all before in a hundred bull sessions, and I suppose I'll hear it all -again. I don't know why I've hung around. There's a little dame that -I've got to write a letter to, and, believe me, she's a damn sight more -interesting than all your bull." He strolled out of the door, drawling a -slow "good night" over his shoulder. - -Hugh went to his room and thought over the talk. He was miserably -confused. Like Ferguson he had believed everything that his father and -mother--and the minister--had told him, and he found himself beginning -to discard their ideas. There didn't seem to be any ideas to put in the -place of those he discarded. Until Carl's recent confidence he had -believed firmly in chastity, but he discovered, once the first shock had -worn off, that he liked Carl the unchaste just as much as he had Carl -the chaste. Carl seemed neither better nor worse for his experience. - -He was lashed by desire; he was burning with curiosity--and yet, and yet -something held him back. Something--he hardly knew what it was--made him -avoid any woman who had a reputation for moral laxity. He shrank from -such a woman--and desired her so intensely that he was ashamed. - -Life was suddenly becoming very complicated, more complicated, it -seemed, every day. With other undergraduates he discussed women and -religion endlessly, but he never reached any satisfactory conclusions. -He wished that he knew some professor that he could talk to. Surely some -of them must know the answers to his riddles.... - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Hugh wasn't troubled only by religion and sex; the whole college was -disturbing his peace of mind: all of his illusions were being ruthlessly -shattered. He had supposed that all professors were wise men, that their -knowledge was almost limitless, and he was finding that many of the -undergraduates were frankly contemptuous of the majority of their -teachers and that he himself was finding inspiration from only a few of -them. He went to his classes because he felt that he had to, but in most -of them he was confused or bored. He learned more in the bull sessions -than he did in the class-room, and men like Ross and Burbank were -teaching him more than his instructors. - -Further, Nu Delta was proving a keen disappointment. More and more he -found himself thinking of Malcolm Graham's talk to him during the -rushing season of his freshman year. He often wished that Graham were -still in college so that he could go to him for advice. The fraternity -was not the brotherhood that he had dreamed about; it was composed of -several cliques warring with each other, never coalescing into a single -group except to contest the control of a student activity with some -other fraternity. There were a few "brothers" that Hugh liked, but most -of them were not his kind at all. Many of them were athletes taken into -the fraternity because they were athletes and for no other reason, and -although Hugh liked two of the athletes--they were really splendid -fellows--he was forced to admit that three of them were hardly better -than thugs, cheap muckers with fine bodies. Then there were the snobs, -usually prep school men with more money than they could handle wisely, -utterly contemptuous of any man not belonging to a fraternity or of one -belonging to any of the lesser fraternities. These were the "smooth -boys," interested primarily in clothes and "parties," passing their -courses by the aid of tutors or fraternity brothers who happened to -study. - -Hugh felt that he ought to like all of his fraternity brothers, but, try -as he would, he disliked the majority of them. Early in his sophomore -year he knew that he ought to have "gone" Delta Sigma Delta, that that -fraternity contained a group of men whom he liked and respected, most of -them, at least. They weren't prominent in student activities, but they -were earnest lads as a whole, trying hard to get something out of -college. - -The Nu Delta meetings every Monday night were a revelation to him. The -brothers were openly bored; they paid little or no attention to the -business before them. The president was constantly calling for order -and not getting it. During the rushing season in the second term, -interest picked up. Freshmen were being discussed. Four questions were -inevitably asked. Did the freshman have money? Was he an athlete? Had he -gone to a prep school? What was his family like? - -Hugh had been very much attracted by a lad named Parker. He was a -charming youngster with a good mind and beautiful manners. In general, -only bad manners were _au fait_ at Sanford; so Parker was naturally -conspicuous. Hugh proposed his name for membership to Nu Delta. - -"He's a harp," said a brother scornfully. "At any rate, he's a -Catholic." - -That settled that. Only Protestants were eligible to Nu Delta at -Sanford, although the fraternity had no national rule prohibiting -members of other religions. - -The snobbery of the fraternity cut Hugh deeply. He was a friendly lad -who had never been taught prejudice. He even made friends with a Jewish -youth and was severely censured by three fraternity brothers for that -friendship. He was especially taken to task by Bob Tucker, the -president. - -"Look here, Hugh," Tucker said sternly, "you've got to draw the line -somewhere. I suppose Einstein is a good fellow and all that, but you've -been running around with him a lot. You've even brought him here -several times. Of course, you can have anybody in your room you want, -but we don't want any Jews around the house. I don't see why you had to -pick him up, anyway. There's plenty of Christians in college." - -"He's a first-class fellow," Hugh replied stubbornly, "and I like him. I -don't see why we have to be so high-hat about Jews and Catholics. Most -of the fraternities take in Catholics, and the Phi Thetas take in Jews; -at least, they've got two. They bid Einstein, but he turned them down; -his folks don't want him to join a fraternity. And Chubby Elson told me -that the Theta Kappas wanted him awfully, but they have a local rule -against Jews." - -"That doesn't make any difference," Tucker said sharply. "We don't want -him around here. Because some of the fraternities are so damn -broad-minded isn't any reason that we ought to be. I don't see that -their broad-mindedness is getting them anything. We rate about ten times -as much as the Phi Thetas or the Theta Kappas, and the reason we do is -that we are so much more exclusive." - -Hugh wanted to mention the three Nu Delta thugs, but he wisely -restrained himself. "All right," he said stubbornly, "I won't bring -Einstein around here again, and I won't bring Parker either. But I'll -see just as much of them as I want to. My friends are my friends, and -if the fraternity doesn't like them, it can leave them alone. I pledged -loyalty to the fraternity, but I'll be damned if I pledged my life to -it." He got up and started for the door, his blue eyes dark with anger. -"I hate snobs," he said viciously, and departed. - -After rushing season was over, he rarely entered that fraternity house, -chumming mostly with Carl, but finding friends in other fraternities or -among non-fraternity men. He was depressed and gloomy, although his -grades for the first term had been respectable. Nothing seemed very much -worth while, not even making his letter on the track. He was gradually -taking to cigarettes, and he had even had a nip or two out of a flask -that Carl had brought to the room. He had read the "Rubaiyat," and it -made a great impression on him. He and Carl often discussed the poem, -and more and more Hugh was beginning to believe in Omar's philosophy. At -least, he couldn't answer the arguments presented in Fitzgerald's -beautiful quatrains. The poem both depressed and thrilled him. After -reading it, he felt desperate--and ready for anything, convinced that -the only wise course was to take the cash and let the credit go. He was -much too young to hear the rumble of the distant drum. Sometimes he was -sure that there wasn't a drum, anyway. - -He was particularly blue one afternoon when Carl rushed into the room -and urged him to go to Hastings, a town five miles from Haydensville. - -"Jim Pearson's outside with his car," Carl said excitedly, "and he'll -take us down. He's got to come right back--he's only going for some -booze--but we needn't come back if we don't want to. We'll have a drink -and give Hastings the once-over. How's to come along?" - -"All right," Hugh agreed indifferently and began to pull on his baa-baa -coat. "I'm with you. A shot of gin might jazz me up a little." - -Once in Hastings, Pearson drove to a private residence at the edge of -the town. The boys got out of the car and filed around to the back door, -which was opened to their knock by a young man with a hatchet face and -hard blue eyes. - -"Hello, Mr. Pearson," he said with an effort to be pleasant. "Want some -gin?" - -"Yes, and some Scotch, too, Pete--if you have it. I'll take two quarts -of Scotch and one of gin." - -"All right." Pete led the way down into the cellar, switching on an -electric light when he reached the foot of the stairs. There was a small -bar in the rear of the dingy, underground room, a table or two, and -dozens of small boxes stacked against the wall. - -It was Hugh's first visit to a bootlegger's den, and he was keenly -interested. He had a high-ball along with Carl and Pearson; then took -another when Carl offered to stand treat. Pearson bought his three -quarts of liquor, paid Pete, and departed alone, Carl and Hugh having -decided to have another drink or two before they returned to -Haydensville. After a second high-ball Hugh did not care how many he -drank and was rather peevish when Carl insisted that he stop with a -third. Pete charged them eight dollars for their drinks, which they -cheerfully paid, and then warily climbed the stairs and stumbled out -into the cold winter air. - -"Brr," said Carl, buttoning his coat up to his chin; "it's cold as -hell." - -"So 'tis," Hugh agreed; "so 'tis. So 'tis. That's pretty. So 'tis, so -'tis, so 'tis. Isn't that pretty, Carl?" - -"Awful pretty. Say it again." - -"So 'tis. So 'tish. So--so--so. What wush it, Carl?" - -"So 'tis." - -"Oh, yes. So 'tish." - -They walked slowly, arm in arm, toward the business section of Hastings, -pausing now and then to laugh joyously over something that appealed to -them as inordinately funny. Once it was a tree, another time a farmer in -a sleigh, and a third time a Ford. Hugh insisted, after laughing until -he wept, that the Ford was the "funniest goddamned thing" he'd ever -seen. Carl agreed with him. - -They were both pretty thoroughly drunk by the time they reached the -center of the town, where they intended getting the bus back to -Haydensville. Two girls passed them and smiled invitingly. - -"Oh, what peaches," Carl exclaimed. - -"Jush--jush--Jush swell," Hugh said with great positiveness, hanging on -to Carl's arm. "They're the shwellest Janes I've ever sheen." - -The girls, who were a few feet ahead, turned and smiled again. - -"Let's pick them up," Carl whispered loudly. - -"Shure," and Hugh started unsteadily to increase his pace. - -The girls were professional prostitutes who visited Hastings twice a -year "to get the Sanford trade." They were crude specimens, revealing -their profession to the most casual observer. If Hugh had been sober -they would have sickened him, but he wasn't sober; he was joyously drunk -and the girls looked very desirable. - -"Hello, girls," Carl said expansively, taking hold of one girl's arm. -"Busy?" - -"Bish-bishy?" Hugh repeated valiantly. - -The older "girl" smiled, revealing five gold teeth. - -"Of course not," she replied in a hard, flat voice. "Not too busy for -you boys, anyway. Come along with us and we'll make this a big -afternoon." - -"Sure," Carl agreed. - -"Sh-shure," Hugh stuttered. He reached forward to take the arm of the -girl who had spoken, but at the same instant some one caught him by the -wrist and held him still. - -Harry Slade, the star football player and this year's captain, happened -to be in Hastings; he was, in fact, seeking these very girls. He had -intended to pass on when he saw two men with them, but as soon as he -recognized Hugh he paused and then impulsively strode forward. - -"Here, Carver," he said sharply. "What are you doing?" - -"None--none of you da-damn business," Hugh replied angrily, trying to -shake his wrist free. "Leggo of me or--or I'll--I'll--" - -"You won't do anything," 'Slade interrupted. "You're going home with -me." - -"Who in hell are you?" one of the girls asked viciously. "Mind your own -damn business." - -"You mind yours, sister, or you'll get into a peck of trouble. This -kid's going with me--and don't forget that. Come on, Carver." - -Hugh was still vainly trying to twist his wrist free and was muttering, -"Leggo, leggo o' me." - -Slade jerked him across the sidewalk. Carl followed expostulating. "Get -the hell out of here, Peters," Slade said angrily, "or I'll knock your -fool block off. You chase off with those rats if you want to, but you -leave Carver with me if you know what's good for you." He shoved Carl -away, and Carl was sober enough to know that Slade meant what he said. -Each girl took him by an arm, and he walked off down the street between -them, almost instantly forgetting Hugh. - -Fortunately the street was nearly deserted, and no one had witnessed the -little drama. Hugh began to sob drunkenly. Slade grasped his shoulders -and shook him until his head waggled. "Now, shut up!" Slade commanded -sharply. He took Hugh by the arm and started down the street with him, -Hugh still muttering, "Leggo, leggo o' me." - -Slade walked him the whole five miles back to Haydensville, and before -they were half way home Hugh's head began to clear. For a time he felt a -little sick, but the nausea passed, and when they reached the campus he -was quite sober. Not a word was spoken until Hugh unlocked the door of -Surrey 19. Then Slade said: "Go wash your face and head in cold water. -Souse yourself good and then come back; I want to have a talk with you." - -Hugh obeyed orders, but with poor grace. He was angry and confused, -angry because his liberty had been interfered with, and confused because -Slade had never paid more than passing attention to him--and for a year -and a half Slade had been his god. - -Slade was one of those superb natural athletes who make history for many -colleges. He was big, powerfully built, and moved as easily as a -dancer. His features were good enough, but his brown eyes were dull and -his jaw heavy rather than strong. Hugh had often heard that Slade -dissipated violently, but he did not believe the rumors; he was positive -that Slade could not be the athlete he was if he dissipated. He had been -thrilled every time Slade had spoken to him--the big man of the college, -the one Sanford man who had ever made All American, as Slade had this -year. - -When he returned to his room from the bath-room, Slade was sitting in a -big chair smoking a cigarette. Hugh walked into his bedroom, combed his -dripping hair, and then came into the study, still angry but feeling a -little sheepish and very curious. - -"Well, what is it?" he demanded, sitting down. - -"Do you know who those women were?" - -"No. Who are they?" - -"They're Bessie Haines and Emma Gleeson; at least, that's what they call -themselves, and they're rotten bags." - -Hugh had a little quiver of fright, but he felt that he ought to defend -himself. - -"Well, what of it?" he asked sullenly. "I don't see as you had any right -to pull me away. You never paid any attention before to me. Why this -sudden interest? How come you're so anxious to guard my purity?" - -Slade was embarrassed. He threw his cigarette into the fireplace and -immediately lighted another one. Then he looked at his shoes and -muttered, "I'm a pretty bad egg myself." - -"So I've heard." Hugh was frankly sarcastic. - -"Well, I am." Slade looked up defiantly. "I guess it's up to me to -explain--and I don't know how to do it. I'm a dumbbell. I can't talk -decently. I flunked English One three times, you know." He hesitated a -moment and then blurted out, "I was looking for those bags myself." - -"What?" Hugh leaned forward and stared at him, bewildered and -dumfounded. "_You_ were looking for them?" - -"Yeah... You see, I'm a bad egg--always been a bad one with women, ever -since I was a kid. Gotta have one about every so often.... I--I'm not -much." - -"But what made you stop me?" Hugh pressed his hand to his temple. His -head was aching, and he could make nothing out of Slade's talk. - -"Because--because.... Oh, hell, Carver, I don't know how to explain it. -I'm twenty-four and you're about nineteen and I know a lot that you -don't. I was brought up in South Boston and I ran with a gang. There -wasn't anything rotten that we didn't do.... I've been watching you. -You're different." - -"How different?" Hugh demanded. "I want women just as much as you do." - -"That isn't it." Slade ran his fingers through his thick black hair and -scowled fiercely at the fireplace. "That isn't it at all. You're--you're -awfully clean and decent. I've been watching you lots--oh, for a year. -You're--you're different," he finished lamely. - -Hugh was beginning to understand. "Do you mean," he asked slowly, "that -you want me to keep straight--that--that, well--that you like me that -way better?" He was really asking Slade if he admired him, and Slade got -his meaning perfectly. To Hugh the idea was preposterous. Why, Slade had -made every society on the campus; he had been given every honor that the -students could heap on him--and he envied Hugh, an almost unknown -sophomore. Why, it was ridiculous. - -"Yes, that's what I mean; that's what I was trying to get at." For a -minute Slade hesitated; he wasn't used to giving expression to his -confused emotions, and he didn't know how to go about it. "I'd--I'd like -to be like you; that's it. I--I didn't want you to be like me.... Those -women are awful bags. Anything might happen." - -"Why didn't you stop Carl Peters, too, then?" - -"Peters knows his way about. He can take care of himself. You're -different, though.... You've never been drunk before, have you?" - -"No. No, I never have." Hugh's irritation was all gone. He was touched, -deeply touched, by Slade's clumsy admiration, and he felt weak, -emotionally exhausted after his little spree. "It's awfully good of you -to--to think of me that way. I'm--I'm glad you stopped me." - -Slade stood up. He felt that he had better be going. He couldn't tell -Hugh how much he liked and admired him, how much he envied him. He was -altogether sentimental about the boy, entirely devoted to him. He had -wanted to talk to Hugh more than Hugh had wanted to talk to him, but he -had never felt that he had anything to offer that could possibly -interest Hugh. It was a strange situation; the hero had put the hero -worshiper on a high, white marble pedestal. - -He moved toward the door. "So long," he said as casually as he could. - -Hugh jumped up and rushed to him. "I'm awfully grateful to you, Harry," -he said impulsively. "It was damn white of you. I--I don't know how to -thank you." He held out his hand. - -Slade gripped it for a moment, and then, muttering another "So long," -passed out of the door. - -Hugh was more confused than ever and grew steadily more confused as the -days passed. He couldn't understand why Slade, frankly unchaste himself, -should consider his chastity so important. He was genuinely glad that -Slade had rescued him, genuinely grateful, but his confusion about all -things sexual was more confounded. The strangest thing was that when he -told Carl about Slade's talk, Carl seemed to understand perfectly, -though he never offered a satisfactory explanation. - -"I know how he feels," Carl said, "and I'm awfully glad he butted in and -pulled you away. I'd hate to see you messing around with bags like that -myself, and if I hadn't been drunk I wouldn't have let you. I'm more -grateful to him than you are. Gee! I'd never have forgiven myself," he -concluded fervently. - - * * * * * - -Just when the Incident was beginning to occupy less of Hugh's thoughts, -it was suddenly brought back with a crash. He came home from the -gymnasium one afternoon to find Carl seated at his desk writing. He -looked up when Hugh came in, tore the paper into fragments, and tossed -them info the waste-basket. - -"Guess I'd better tell you," he said briefly. "I was just writing a note -to you." - -"To me? Why?" - -Carl pointed to his suit-case standing by the center-table. - -"That's why." - -"Going away on a party?" - -"My trunk left an hour ago. I'm going away for good." Carl's voice was -husky, and he spoke with an obvious effort. - -Hugh walked quickly to the desk. "Why, old man, what's the matter? -Anything wrong with your mother? You're not sick, are you?" - -Carl laughed, briefly, bitterly. "Yes, I'm sick all right. I'm sick." - -Hugh, worried, looked at him seriously. "Why, what's the matter? I -didn't know that you weren't feeling well." - -Carl looked at the rug and muttered, "You remember those rats we picked -up in Hastings?" - -"Yes?" - -"Well, I know of seven fellows they've sent home." - -"What!" Hugh cried, his eyes wide with horror. "You don't mean that -you--that you--" - -"I mean exactly that," Carl replied in a low, flat voice. He rose and -moved to the other side of the room. "I mean exactly that; and Doc -Conners agrees with me," he added sarcastically. Then more softly, "He's -got to tell the dean. That's why I'm going home." - -Hugh was swept simultaneously by revulsion and sympathy. "God, I'm -sorry," he exclaimed. "Oh, Carl, I'm so damn sorry." - -Carl was standing by Hugh's desk, his hands clenched, his lips -compressed. "Keep my junk," he said unevenly, "and sell anything you -want to if you live in the house next year." - -"But you'll be back?" - -"No, I won't come back--I won't come back." He was having a hard time -to keep back the tears and bit his trembling lip mercilessly. "Oh, -Hugh," he suddenly cried, "what will my mother say?" - -Hugh was deeply distressed, but he was startled by that "my mother." It -was the first time he had ever heard Carl speak of his mother except as -the "old lady." - -"She will understand," he said soothingly. - -"How can she? How can she? God, Hugh, God!" He buried his face in his -hands and wept bitterly. Hugh put his arm around his shoulder and tried -to comfort him, and in a few minutes Carl was in control of himself -again. He dried his eyes with his handkerchief. - -"What a fish I am!" he said, trying to grin. "A goddamn fish." He looked -at his watch. "Hell, I've got to be going if I'm going to make the five -fifteen," He picked up his suit-case and held out his free hand. -"There's something I want to say to you, Hugh, but I guess I'll write -it. Please don't come to the train with me." He gripped Hugh's hand hard -for an instant and then was out of the door and down the hall before -Hugh had time to say anything. - -Two days afterward the letter came. The customary "Dear brother" and -"Fraternally yours" were omitted. - - - Dear Hugh: - - I've thought of letters yards long but I'm not going to - write them. I just want to say that you are the finest - thing that ever happened to me outside of my mother, and - I respect you more than any fellow I've ever known. I'm - ashamed because I started you drinking and I hope you'll - stop it. I feel toward you the way Harry Slade does, - only more I guess. You've done an awful lot for me. - - I want to ask a favor of you. Please leave women alone. - Keep straight, please. You don't know how much I want - you to do that. - - Thanks for all you've done for me. - - CARL. - - -Hugh's eyes filled with tears when he read that letter. Carl seemed a -tragic figure to him, and he missed him dreadfully. Poor old Carl! What -hell it must have been to tell his mother! "And he wants me to keep -straight. By God, I will.... I'll try to, anyhow." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Hugh's depression was not continuous by any means. He was much too young -and too healthy not to find life an enjoyable experience most of the -time. Disillusionment followed disillusionment, each one painful and -dispiriting in itself, but they came at long enough intervals for him to -find a great deal of pleasure in between. - -Also, for the first time since he had been transferred from Alling's -section in Latin, he was taking genuine interest in a course. Having -decided to major in English, he found that he was required to take a -composition course the second half of his sophomore year. His instructor -was Professor Henley, known as Jimmie Henley among the students, a man -in his middle thirties, spare, neat in his dress, sharp with his tongue, -apt to say what he thought in terms so plain that not even the stupidest -undergraduate could fail to understand him. His hazel-brown eyes were -capable of a friendly twinkle, but they had a way of darkening suddenly -and snapping that kept his students constantly on the alert. There was -little of the professor about him but a great deal of the teacher. - -Hugh went to his first conference with him not entirely easy in his -mind. Henley had a reputation for "tearing themes to pieces and making a -fellow feel like a poor fish." Hugh had written his themes hastily, as -he had during his freshman year, and he was afraid that Henley might -discover evidences of that haste. - -Henley was leaning back in his swivel chair, his feet on the desk, a -brier pipe in his mouth, as Hugh entered the cubbyhole of an office. -Down came the feet with a bang. - -"Hello, Carver," Henley said cheerfully. "Come in and sit down while I -go through your themes." He motioned to a chair by the desk. Hugh -muttered a shy "hello" and sat down, watching Henley expectantly and -rather uncomfortably. - -Henley picked up three themes. Then he turned his keen eyes on Hugh. -"I've already read these. Lazy cuss, aren't you?" he asked amiably. - -Hugh flushed. "I--I suppose so." - -"You know that you are; no supposing to it." He slapped the desk lightly -with the themes. "First drafts, aren't they?" - -"Yes, sir." Hugh felt his cheeks getting warmer. - -Henley smiled. "Thanks for not lying. If you had lied, this conference -would have ended right now. Oh, I wouldn't have told you that I thought -you were lying; I would simply have made a few polite but entirely -insincere comments about your work and let you go. Now I am going to -talk to you frankly and honestly." - -"I wish you would," Hugh murmured, but he wasn't at all sure that he -wished anything of the sort. - -Henley knocked the ashes out of his pipe into a metal tray, refilled it, -lighted it, and then puffed meditatively, gazing at Hugh with kind but -speculative eyes. - -"I think you have ability," he began slowly. "You evidently write with -great fluency and considerable accuracy, and I can find poetic touches -here and there that please me. But you are careless, abominably -careless, lazy. Whatever virtues there are in your themes come from a -natural gift, not from any effort you made to say the thing in the best -way. Now, I'm not going to spend anytime discussing these themes in -detail; they aren't worth it." - -He pointed his pipe at Hugh. "The point is exactly this," he said -sternly. "I'll never spend any time discussing your themes so long as -you turn in hasty, shoddy work. I can see right now that you can get a C -in this course without trying. If that's all you want, all right, I'll -give it to you--and let it go at that. The Lord knows that I have enough -to do without wasting time on lazy youngsters who haven't sense enough -to develop their gifts. If you continue to turn in themes like these, -I'll give you C's or D's on them and let you dig your own shallow grave -by yourself. But If you want to try to write as well as you can, I'll -give you all the help in my power. Not one minute can you have so long -as you don't try, but you can have hours if you do try. Furthermore, you -will find writing a pleasure if you write as well as you can, but you -won't get any sport just scribbling off themes because you have to." - -He paused to toss the three themes across the desk to Hugh, who was -watching him with astonishment. No instructor had ever talked to him -that way before. - -"You can rewrite these themes if you want to," Henley went on. "I -haven't graded them, and I'll reserve the grades for the rewritten -themes; and if I find that you have made a real effort, I'll discuss -them in detail with you. What do you say?" - -"I'd like to rewrite them," Hugh said softly. "I know they are rotten." - -"No, they aren't rotten. I've got dozens that are worse. That isn't the -point. They aren't nearly so good as you can make them, and only your -best work is acceptable to me. Now show me what you can do with them, -and then we'll tear them to shreds in regular fashion." He turned to his -desk and smiled at Hugh, who, understanding that the conference was -over, stood up and reached for the themes. "I'll be interested in -seeing what you can do with those," Henley concluded. "Every one of them -has a good idea. Go to it--and get them back in a week." - -"Yes, sir. Thanks very much." - -"Right-o. Good-by." - -"Good-by, sir," and Hugh left the office determined to rewrite those -themes so that "they'd knock Jimmie Henley's eye out." They didn't do -exactly that, but they did interest him, and he spent an hour and a half -discussing them with Hugh. - -That was merely the first of a series of long conferences. Sometimes -Henley and Hugh discussed writing, but often they talked about other -subjects, not as instructor and student but as two men who respected -each other's mind. Before the term was out Henley had invited Hugh to -his home for dinner and to meet Mrs. Henley. Hugh was enormously -flattered and, for some reason, stimulated to do better work. He found -his talks with Henley really exciting, and he expressed his opinions to -him as freely and almost as positively as he did to his classmates. He -told his friends that Jimmie Henley was human, not like most profs. And -he worked at his writing as he had never worked at anything, running -excepted, since he had been in college. - -The students never knew what to expect from Henley in the class-room. -Sometimes he read themes and criticized them; sometimes he discussed -books that he had been reading; sometimes he read poetry, not because -contemporary poetry was part of the course but because he happened to -feel like reading it that morning; sometimes he discoursed on the art of -writing; and sometimes he talked about anything that happened to be -occupying his mind. He made his class-room an open forum, and the -students felt free to interrupt him at any time and to disagree with -him. Usually they did disagree with him and afterward wrote violent -themes to prove that he was wrong. That was exactly what Henley wanted -them to do, and the more he could stir them up the better satisfied he -was. - -One morning, however, he talked without interruption. He didn't want to -be interrupted, and the boys were so taken back by his statements that -they could find no words to say anything. - -The bell rang. Henley called the roll, stuck his class-book into his -coat pocket, placed his watch on the desk; then leaned back and looked -the class over. - -"Your themes are making me sick," he began, "nauseated. I have a fairly -strong stomach, but there is just so much that I can stand--and you have -passed the limit. There is hardly a man in this class who hasn't written -at least one theme on the glory that is Sanford. As you know, I am a -Sanford man myself, and I have my share of affection for the college, -but you have reached an ecstasy of chauvinism that makes Chauvin's -affection for Napoleon seem almost like contempt. - -"In the last batch of themes I got five telling me of the perfection of -Sanford: Sanford is the greatest college in the country; Sanford has the -best athletes, the finest equipment, the most erudite faculty, the most -perfect location, the most loyal alumni, the strongest spirit--the most -superlative everything. Nonsense! Rot! Bunk! Sanford hasn't anything of -the sort, and I who love it say so. Sanford is a good little college, -but it isn't a Harvard, a Yale, or a Princeton, or, for that matter, a -Dartmouth or Brown; and those colleges still have perfection ahead of -them. Sanford has made a place for itself in the sun, but it will never -find a bigger place so long as its sons do nothing but chant its praises -and condemn any one as disloyal who happens to mention its very numerous -faults. - -"Well, I'm going to mention some of those faults, not all of them by any -means, just those that any intelligent undergraduate ought to be able to -see for himself. - -"In the first place, this is supposed to be an educational institution; -it is endowed for that purpose and it advertises itself as such. And you -men say that you come here to get an education. But what do you really -do? You resist education with all your might and main, digging your -heels into the gravel of your own ignorance and fighting any attempt to -teach you anything every inch of the way. What's worse, you aren't -content with your own ignorance; you insist that every one else be -ignorant, too. Suppose a man attempts to acquire culture, as some of -them do. What happens? He is branded as wet. He is a social leper. - -"Wet! What currency that bit of slang has--and what awful power. It took -me a long time to find out what the word meant, but after long research -I think that I know. A man is wet if he isn't a 'regular guy'; he is wet -if he isn't 'smooth'; he is wet if he has intellectual interests and -lets the mob discover them; and, strangely enough, he is wet by the same -token if he is utterly stupid. He is wet if he doesn't show at least a -tendency to dissipate, but he isn't wet if he dissipates to excess. A -man will be branded as wet for any of these reasons, and once he is so -branded, he might as well leave college; if he doesn't, he will have a -lonely and hard row to hoe. It is a rare undergraduate who can stand the -open contempt of his fellows." - -He paused, obviously ordering his thoughts before continuing. The boys -waited expectantly. Some of them were angry, some amused, a few in -agreement, and all of them intensely interested. - -Henley leaned back in his chair. "What horrible little conformers you -are," he began sarcastically, "and how you loathe any one who doesn't -conform! You dress both your bodies and your minds to some set model. -Just at present you are making your hair foul with some sort of perfumed -axle-grease; nine tenths of you part it in the middle. It makes no -difference whether the style is becoming to you or not; you slick it -down and part it in the middle. Last year nobody did it; the chances are -that next year nobody will do it, but anybody who doesn't do it right -now is in danger of being called wet." - -Hugh had a moment of satisfaction. He did not pomade his hair, and he -parted it on the side as he had when he came to college. True, he had -tried the new fashion, but after scanning himself carefully in the -mirror, he decided that he looked like a "blond wop"--and washed his -hair. He was guilty, however, of the next crime mentioned. - -"The same thing is true of clothes," Henley was saying. "Last year every -one wore four-button suits and very severe trousers. This year every one -is wearing Norfolk jackets and bell-bottomed trousers, absurd things -that flop around the shoes, and some of them all but trail on the -ground. Now, any one who can't afford the latest creation or who -declines to wear it is promptly called wet. - -"And, as I said before, you insist on the same standardization of your -minds. Just now it is not _au fait_ to like poetry; a man who does is -exceedingly wet, indeed; he is effeminate, a sissy. As a matter of -fact, most of you like poetry very much. You never give me such good -attention as when I read poetry. What's more, some of you are writing -the disgraceful stuff. But what happens when a man does submit a poem as -a theme? He writes at the bottom of the page, 'Please do not read this -in class.' Some of you write that because you don't think that the poem -is very good, but most of you are afraid of the contempt of your -classmates. I know of any number of men in this college who read vast -quantities of poetry, but always on the sly. Just think of that! Men pay -thousands of dollars and give four years of their lives supposedly to -acquire culture and then have to sneak off into a corner to read poetry. - -"Who are your college gods? The brilliant men who are thinking and -learning, the men with ideals and aspirations? Not by a long shot. They -are the athletes. Some of the athletes happen to be as intelligent and -as eager to learn as anybody else, but a fair number are here simply -because they are paid to come to play football or baseball or what not. -And they are worshiped, bowed down to, cheered, and adored. The -brilliant men, unless they happen to be very 'smooth' in the bargain, -are considered wet and are ostracized. - -"Such is the college that you write themes about to tell me that it is -perfect. The college is made up of men who worship mediocrity; that is -their ideal except in athletics. The condition of the football field is -a thousand times more important to the undergraduates and the alumni -than the number of books in the library or the quality of the faculty. -The fraternities will fight each other to pledge an athlete, but I have -yet to see them raise any dust over a man who was merely intelligent. - -"I tell you that you have false standards, false ideals, and that you -have a false loyalty to the college. The college can stand criticism; it -will thrive and grow on it--but it won't grow on blind adoration. I tell -you further that you are as standardized as Fords and about as -ornamental. Fords are useful for ordinary work; so are you--and unless -some of you wake up and, as you would say, 'get hep to yourselves,' you -are never going to be anything more than human Fords. - -"You pride yourselves on being the cream of the earth, the noblest work -of God. You are told so constantly. You are the intellectual aristocracy -of America, the men who are going to lead the masses to a brighter and -broader vision of life. Merciful heavens preserve us! You swagger around -utterly contemptuous of the man who hasn't gone to college. You talk -magnificently about democracy, but you scorn the non-college man--and -you try pathetically to imitate Yale and Princeton. And I suppose Yale -and Princeton are trying to imitate Fifth Avenue and Newport. Democracy! -Rot! This college isn't democratic. Certain fraternities condescend to -other fraternities, and those fraternities barely deign even to -condescend to the non-fraternity men. You say hello to everybody on the -campus and think that you are democratic. Don't fool yourselves, and -don't try to fool me. If you want to write some themes about Sanford -that have some sense and truth in them, some honest observation, go -ahead; but don't pass in any more chauvinistic bunk. I'm sick of it." - -He put his watch in his pocket and stood up. "You may belong to the -intellectual aristocracy of the country, but I doubt it; you may lead -the masses to a 'bigger and better' life, but I doubt it; you may be the -cream of the earth, but I doubt it. All I've got to say is this: if -you're the cream of the earth, God help the skimmed milk." He stepped -down from the rostrum and briskly left the room. - -For an instant the boys sat silent, and then suddenly there was a rustle -of excitement. Some of them laughed, some of them swore softly, and most -of them began to talk. They pulled on their baa-baa coats and left the -room chattering. - -"He certainly has the dope," said Pudge Jamieson. "We're a lot of -low-brows pretending to be intellectual high-hats. We're intellectual -hypocrites; that's what we are." - -"How do you get that way?" Ferdy Hillman, who was walking with Hugh and -Pudge, demanded angrily. "We may not be so hot, but we're a damn sight -better than these guys that work in offices and mills. Jimmie Henley -gives me a pain. He shoots off his gab as if he knew everything. He's -got to show me where other colleges have anything on Sanford. He's a -hell of a Sanford man, he is." - -They were walking slowly down the stairs. George Winsor caught up with -them. - -"What did you think of it, George?" Hugh asked. - -Winsor grinned. "He gave me some awful body blows," he said, chuckling. -"Cripes, I felt most of the time that he was talking only to me. I'm -sore all over. What did you think of it? Jimmie's a live wire, all -right." - -"I don't know what to think," Hugh replied soberly. "He's knocked all -the props from under me. I've got to think it over." - -He did think it over, and the more he thought the more he was inclined -to believe that Henley was right. Boy-like, he carried Henley's -statements to their final conclusion and decided that the college was a -colossal failure. He wrote a theme and said so. - -"You're wrong, Hugh," Henley said when he read the theme. "Sanford has -real virtues, a bushel of them. You'll discover them all right before -you graduate." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Sanford's virtues were hard for Hugh to find, and they grew more -inconspicuous as the term advanced. For the time being nothing seemed -worth while: he was disgusted with himself, the undergraduates, and the -fraternity; he felt that the college had bilked him. Often he thought of -the talk he had had with his father before he left for college. -Sometimes that talk seemed funny, entirely idiotic, but sometimes it -infuriated him. What right had his father to send him off to college -with such fool ideas in his head? Nu Delta, the perfect brotherhood! -Bull! How did his father get that way, anyhow? Hugh had yet to learn -that nearly every chapter changes character at least once a decade and -that Nu Delta thirty years earlier had been an entirely different -organization from what it was at present. At times he felt that his -father had deliberately deceived him, but in quieter moments he knew -better; then he realized that his father was a dreamer and an innocent, -a delicately minded man who had never really known anything about -Sanford College or the world either. Hugh often felt older and wiser -than his father; and in many ways he was. - -In March he angered his fraternity brothers again by refusing a part in -the annual musical comedy, which was staged by the Dramatic Society -during Prom week. Hugh's tenor singing voice and rather small features -made him an excellent possibility for a woman's part. But he was not a -good actor, and he knew it. His attempts at acting in a high-school play -had resulted in a flat failure, and he had no intention of publicly -making a fool of himself again. Besides, he did not like the idea of -appearing on the stage as a girl; the mere idea was offensive to him. -Therefore, when the Society offered him a part he declined it. - -Bob Tucker took him severely to task. "What do you mean, Hugh," he -demanded, "by turning down the Dramat? Here you've got a chance for a -lead, and you turn up your nose at it as if you were God Almighty. It -seems to me that you are getting gosh-awful high-hat lately. You run -around with a bunch of thoroughly wet ones; you never come to fraternity -meetings if you can help it; you aren't half training down at the track; -and now you give the Dramat the air just as if an activity or two wasn't -anything in your young life." - -"The Dramat isn't anything to me," Hugh replied, trying to keep his -temper. Tucker's arrogance always made him angry. "I can't act worth a -damn. Never could. I tried once in a play at home and made a poor fish -of myself, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not going to -again." - -"Bunk!" Tucker ejaculated contemptuously. "Hooey! Anybody can act good -enough for the Dramat. I tell you right now that you're turning the -fraternity down; you're playing us dirt. What have you done in college? -Not a goddamn thing except make the Glee Club. I don't care about track. -I suppose you did your best last year, though I know damn well that you -aren't doing it this year. What would become of the fraternity if all of -us parked ourselves on our tails and gave the activities the air the way -you do? You're throwing us down, and we don't like it." - -"Well, I'm not going out for the Dramat," Hugh mumbled sullenly; "you -can just bet on that. I'll admit that I haven't trained the way I ought -to, but I have made the Glee Club, and I have promised to join the Banjo -Club, and I am still on the track squad, and that's more than half the -fellows in this fraternity can say. Most of 'em don't do anything but go -on parties and raise hell generally. How come you're picking on me? Why -don't you ride some of them for a while? I don't see where they're so -hot." - -"Never mind the other fellows." Tucker's black eyes flashed angrily. He -was one of the "hell-raisers" himself, good looking; always beautifully -dressed, and proud of the fact that he was "rated the smoothest man on -the campus." His "smoothness" had made him prominent in activities--that -and his estimate of himself. He took it for granted that he would be -prominent, and the students accepted him at his own valuation; and -powerful Nu Delta had been behind him, always able to swing Votes when -votes were needed. - -"Never mind the other fellows," he repeated. "They're none of your -party. You've got talents, and you're not making use of them. You could -be as popular as the devil if you wanted to, but you go chasing around -with kikes and micks." - -Hugh was very angry and a little absurd in his youthful pomposity. "I -suppose you refer to Parker and Einstein--my one mick friend, although -he isn't Irish, and my, one Jewish friend. Well, I shall stick to them -and see just as much of them as I like. I've told you that before, and -you might as well get me straight right now: I'm going to run with -whoever I want. The fraternity cannot dictate to me about my friends. -You told me you didn't want Parker and Einstein around the house. I -don't bring them around. I don't see as how you've got a right to ask -anything more." - -"I don't suppose you realize that everything you do reflects on the -fraternity," Tucker retorted, slightly pompous himself. - -"I suppose it does, but I can't see that I have done anything that is -going to ruin the name of Nu Delta. I don't get potted regularly or -chase around with filthy bags or flunk my courses or crib my way -through; and I could mention some men in this house who do all those -things." Hugh was thoroughly angry and no longer in possession of his -best judgment. "If you don't like the way I act, you can have my pin any -time you say." He stood up, his blue eyes almost black with rage, his -cheeks flushed, his mouth a thin white line. - -Tucker realized that he had gone too far. "Oh, don't get sore, Hugh," he -said soothingly. "I didn't mean it the way you are taking it. Of course, -we don't want you to turn in your pin. We all like you. We just want you -to come around more and be one of the fellows, more of a regular guy. We -feel that you can bring a lot of honor to the fraternity if you want to, -and we've been kinda sore because you've been giving activities the -go-by." - -"How about my studies?" Hugh retorted. "I suppose you want me to give -them the air. Well, I did the first term, and I made a record that I was -ashamed of. I promised my folks that I'd do better; and I'm going to. I -give an hour or two a day to track and several hours a week to the Glee -Club, and now I'm going to have to give several more to the Banjo Club. -That's all I can give at present, and that's all I'm going to give. I -know perfectly well that some fellows can go out for a bunch of -activities and make Phi Bete, too; but they're sharks and I'm not. Don't -worry, either; I won't disgrace the fraternity by making Phi Bete," he -concluded sarcastically. - -"Oh, calm down, Hugh, and forget what I said," Tucker pleaded, -thoroughly sorry that he had started the argument. "You go ahead and do -what you think right and we'll stand by you." He stood up and put his -hand on Hugh's shoulder. "No hard feelings, are there, old man?" - -Kindness always melted Hugh; no matter how angry he was, he could not -resist it. "No," he said softly; "no hard feelings. I'm sorry I lost my -temper." - -Tucker patted his shoulder. "Oh, that's all right. I guess I kinda lost -mine, too. You'll be around to the meeting to-morrow night, won't you? -Better come. Paying fines don't get you anywhere." - -"Sure, I'll come." - -He went but took no part in the discussion, nor did he frequent the -fraternity house any more than he had previously. More and more he -realized that he had "gone with the wrong crowd," and more and more he -thought of what Graham had said to him in his freshman year about how a -man was in hell if he joined the wrong fraternity. "I was the wise -bird," he told himself caustically; "I was the guy who knew all about -it. Graham saw what would happen, and I didn't have sense enough to -take his advice. Hell, I never even thought about what he told me. I -knew that I would be in heaven if Nu Delta gave me a bid. Heaven! Well, -I'm glad that they were too high-hat for Norry Parker and that he went -with the right bunch." - -Norville Parker was Hugh's Catholic friend, and the more he saw of the -freshman the better he liked him. Parker had received several bids from -fraternities, and he followed the advice Hugh had given him. "If Delta -Sigma Delta bids you, go there," Hugh had said positively. "They're the -bunch you belong with. Apparently the Kappa Zetes are going to bid you, -too. You go Delta Sig if you get the chance." Hugh envied Parker the -really beautiful fraternity life he was leading. "Why in God's name," he -demanded of himself regularly, "didn't I have sense enough to take -Graham's advice?" - -When spring came, the two boys took long walks into the country, both of -them loving the new beauty of the spring and happy in perfect -companionship. Hugh missed Carl badly, and he wanted to ask Parker to -room with him the remainder of the term. He felt, however, that the -fraternity would object, and he wanted no further trouble with Nu Delta. -As a matter of fact, the fraternity would have said nothing, but Hugh -had become hypersensitive and expected his "brothers" to find fault -with his every move. He had no intention of deserting Parker, but he -could not help feeling that rooming with him would be a gratuitous -insult to the fraternity. - -Parker--every one called him Norry--was a slender, delicate lad with -dreamy gray eyes and silky brown hair that, unless he brushed it back -severely, fell in soft curls on his extraordinarily white forehead. -Except for a slightly aquiline nose and a firm jaw, he was almost -effeminate in appearance, his mouth was so sensitive, his hands so white -and slender, his manner so gentle. He had a slow, winning smile, a -quiet, low voice. He was a dreamer and a mystic, a youth who could see -fairies dancing in the shadows; and he told Hugh what he saw. - -"I see things," he said to Hugh one moonlight night as they strolled -through the woods; "I see things, lovely little creatures flitting -around among the trees: I mean I see them when I'm alone. I like to lie -on my back in the meadows and look at the clouds and imagine myself -sitting on a big fellow and sailing and sailing away to heaven. It's -wonderful. I feel that way when I play my fiddle." He played the violin -beautifully and had promptly been made soloist for the Musical Clubs. -"I--I can't explain. Sometimes when I finish playing, I find my eyes -full of tears. I feel as if I had been to some wonderful place, and I -don't want to come back." - -"I guess I'm not like other fellows. I cry over poetry, not because it -makes me sad. It's not that. It's just so beautiful. Why, when I first -read Shelley's 'Cloud' I was almost sick I was so happy. I could hardly -stand it. And when I hear beautiful music I cry, too. Why, when I listen -to Kreisler, I sometimes want to beg him to stop; it hurts and makes me -so happy that--that I just can't stand it," he finished lamely. - -"I know," Hugh said. "I know how it is. I feel that way sometimes, too, -but not as much as you, I guess. I don't cry. I never really cry, but I -want to once in a while. I--I write poetry sometimes," he confessed -awkwardly, "but I guess it's not very good. Jimmie Henley says it isn't -so bad for a sophomore, but I'm afraid that he's just stringing me -along, trying to encourage me, you know. But there are times when I've -said a little bit right, just a little bit, but I've known that it was -right--and then I feel the way you do." - -"I've written lots of poetry," Norry said simply, "but it's no good; -it's never any good." He paused between two big trees and pointed -upward. "Look, look up there. See those black branches and that patch of -sky between them and those stars. I want to picture that--and I can't; -and I want to picture the trees the way they look now so fluffy with -tiny new leaves, but I miss it a million miles.... But I can get it in -music," he added more brightly. "Grieg says it. Music is the most -wonderful thing in the world. I wish I could be a great violinist. I -can't, though. I'm not a genius, and I'm not strong enough. I can't -practice very long." - -They continued walking in silence for a few minutes, and then Norry -said: "I'm awfully happy here at college, and I didn't expect to be, -either. I knew that I was kinda different from other fellows, not so -strong; and I don't like ugly things or smutty stories or anything like -that. I think women are lovely, and I hate to hear fellows tell dirty -stories about them. I'm no fool, Hugh; I know about the things that -happen, but I don't want to hear about them. Things that are dirty and -ugly make me feel sick." - -"Well, I was afraid the fellows would razz me. But they don't. They -don't at all. The fellows over at the Delta Sig house are wonderful to -me. They don't think I'm wet. They don't razz me for not going on wild -parties, though I know that some of the fellows are pretty gay -themselves. They ask me to fiddle for them nearly every evening, and -they sit and listen very, very quietly just as long as I'll play. I'm -glad you told me to go Delta Sig." - -Norry made Hugh feel very old and a little crude and hard. He realized -that there was something rare, almost exquisite, about the boy, and that -he lived largely in a beautiful world of his own imagination. It would -have surprised Norry if any one had told him that his fraternity -brothers stood in awe of him, that they thought he was a genius. Some of -them were built out of pretty common clay, but they felt the almost -unearthly purity of the boy they had made a brother; and the hardest of -them, the crudest, silently elected himself the guardian of that purity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Hugh found real happiness in Norry Parker's companionship, and such men -as Burbank and Winsor were giving him a more robust but no less pleasant -friendship. They were earnest youths, eager and alive, curious about the -world, reading, discussing all sorts of topics vigorously, and yet far -more of the earth earthy than Parker, who was so mystical and dreamy -that constant association with him would have been something of a -strain. - -For a time life seemed to settle down into a pleasant groove of studies -that took not too much time, movies, concerts, an occasional play by the -Dramatic Society, perhaps a slumming party to a dance in Hastings -Saturday nights, bull sessions, long talks with Henley in his office or -at his home, running on the track, and some reading. - -For a week or two life was lifted out of the groove by a professor's -daughter. Burbank introduced Hugh to her, and at first he was attracted -by her calm dignity. He called three times and then gave her up in -despair. Her dignity hid an utterly blank mind. She was as uninteresting -as her father, and he had the reputation, well deserved, of being the -dullest lecturer on the campus. - -Only one event disturbed the pleasant calm of Hugh's life after his -argument with Tucker. He did not attend Prom because he knew no girl -whom he cared to ask; he failed again to make his letter and took his -failure philosophically; and he received a note from Janet Harton -telling him that she was engaged to "the most wonderful man in the -world"--and he didn't give a hoot if she was. - -Just after Easter vacation the Nu Deltas gave their annual house dance. -Hugh looked forward to it with considerable pleasure. True, he was not -"dragging a woman," but several of the brothers were going "stag"; so he -felt completely at ease. - -The freshmen were put to work cleaning the house, the curtains were sent -to the laundry, bedroom closets and dresser drawers were emptied of -anything the girls might find too interesting, and an enormously -expensive orchestra was imported from New York. Finally a number of -young alumni, the four patronesses, and the girls appeared. - -Getting dressed for the dance was a real event in Hugh's life. He had -worn evening clothes only a few times before, but those occasions, -fraternity banquets and glee club concerts, were, he felt, relatively -unimportant. The dance, however, was different, and he felt that he must -look his best, his very "smoothest." He was a rare undergraduate; he -owned everything necessary to wear to an evening function--at least, -everything an undergraduate considered necessary. He did not own a -dress-suit, and he would have had no use for it if he had; only Tuxedos -were worn. - -He dressed with great care, tying and retying his tie until it was -knotted perfectly. When at last he drew on his jacket, he looked himself -over in the mirror with considerable satisfaction. He knew that he was -dressed right. - -It hardly entered his mind that he was an exceedingly good-looking young -man. Vanity was not one of his faults. But he had good reason to be -pleased with the image he was examining for any sartorial defects. He -had brushed his sandy brown hair until it shone; his shave had left his -slender cheeks almost as smooth as a girl's; his blue eyes were very -bright and clear; and the black suit emphasized his blond cleanness: it -was a wholesome-looking, attractive youth who finally pulled on his -top-coat and started happily across the campus for the Nu Delta house. - -The dance was just starting when he arrived. The patronesses were in the -library, a small room off the living-room. Hugh learned later that six -men had been delegated to keep the patronesses in the library and -adequately entertained. The men worked in shifts, and although the dance -lasted until three the next morning, not a patroness got a chance to -wander unchaperoned around the house. - -The living-room of the Nu Delta house was so large that it was -unnecessary to use the dining-room for a dance. Therefore, most of the -big chairs and divans had been moved into the dining-room--and the -dining-room was dark. - -Hugh permitted himself to be presented to the patronesses, mumbled a few -polite words, and then joined the stag line, waiting for a chance to cut -in. Presently a couple moved slowly by, so slowly that they did not seem -to move at all. The girl was Hester Sheville, and Hugh had been -introduced to her in the afternoon. Despite rather uneven features and -red hair, she was almost pretty; and in her green evening gown, which -was cut daringly low, she was flashing and attractive. - -Hugh stepped forward and tapped her partner on the shoulder. The brother -released her with a grimace at Hugh, and Hester, without a word, put her -right hand in Hugh's left and slipped her left arm around his neck. They -danced in silence for a time, bodies pressed close together, swaying in -place, hardly advancing. Presently, however, Hester drew her head back -and spoke. - -"Hot stuff, isn't it?" she asked lazily. - -Hugh was startled. Her breath was redolent of whisky. - -"Sure is," he replied and executed a difficult step, the girl following -him without the slightest difficulty. She danced remarkably, but he was -glad when he was tapped on the shoulder and another brother claimed -Hester. The whisky breath had repelled him. - -As the evening wore on he danced with a good many girls who had whisky -breaths. One girl clung to him as they danced and whispered, "Hold me -up, kid; I'm ginned." He had to rush a third, a dainty blond child, to -the porch railing. She wasn't a pretty sight as she vomited into the -garden; nor did Hugh find her gasped comment, "The seas are rough -to-night," amusing. Another girl went sound asleep in a chair and had to -be carried up-stairs and put to bed. - -A number of the brothers were hilarious; a few had drunk too much and -were sick; one had a "crying jag." There were men there, however, who -were not drinking at all, and they were making gallant efforts to keep -the sober girls away from the less sober girls and the inebriated -brothers. - -Hugh was not drinking. The idea of drinking at a dance was offensive to -him; he thought it insulting to the girls. The fact that some of the -girls were drinking horrified him. He didn't mind their smoking--well, -not very much; but drinking? That was going altogether too far. - -About midnight he danced again with Hester Sheville, not because he -wanted to but because she had insisted. He had been standing gloomily in -the doorway watching the bacchanalian scene, listening to the tom-tom -of the drums when she came up to him. - -"I wanta dance," she said huskily. "I wanta dance with you--you--you -blond beast." Seeing no way to decline to dance with the half-drunk -girl, he put his arm around her and started off. Hester's tongue was no -longer in control, but her feet followed his unerringly. When the music -stopped, she whispered, "Take me--ta-take me to th' th' dining-room." -Wonderingly, Hugh led her across the hall. He had not been in the -dining-room since the dance started, and he was amazed and shocked to -find half a dozen couples in the big chairs or on the divans in close -embrace. He paused, but Hester led him to an empty chair, shoved him -clumsily down into it, and then flopped down on his lap. - -"Le's--le's pet," she whispered. "I wanna pet." - -Again Hugh smelled the whisky fumes as she put her hot mouth to his and -kissed him hungrily. He was angry, angry and humiliated. He tried to get -up, to force the girl off of his lap, but she clung tenaciously to him, -striving insistently to kiss him on the mouth. Finally Hugh's anger got -the better of his manners; he stood up, the girl hanging to his neck, -literally tore her arms off of him, took her by the waist and set her -down firmly in the chair. - -"Sit there," he said softly, viciously; "sit there." - -She began to cry, and he walked rapidly out of the dining-room, his -cheeks flaming and his eyes flashing; and the embracing couples paid no -attention to him at all. He had to pass the door of the library to get -his top-coat--he made up his mind to get out of the "goddamned -house"--and was walking quickly by the door when one of the patronesses -called to him. - -"Oh, Mr. Carver. Will you come here a minute?" - -"Surely, Mrs. Reynolds." He entered the library and waited before the -dowager. - -"I left my wrap up-stairs--in Mr. Merrill's room, I think it is. I am -getting a little chilly. Won't you get it for me?" - -"Of course. It's in Merrill's room?" - -"I think it is. It's right at the head of the stairs. The wrap's blue -with white fur." - -Hugh ran up the stairs, opened Merrill's door, switched on the lights, -and immediately spotted the wrap lying over the back of a chair. He -picked it up and was about to leave the room when a noise behind him -attracted his attention. He turned and saw a man and a girl lying on the -bed watching him. - -Hugh stared blankly at them, his mouth half open. - -"Get th' hell out of here," the man said roughly. - -For an instant Hugh continued to stare; then he whirled about, walked -out of the room, slammed the door behind him, and hurried down the -stairs. He delivered the wrap to Mrs. Reynolds, and two minutes later he -was out of the house walking, almost running, across the campus to -Surrey Hall. Once there, he tore off his top-coat, his jacket, his -collar and tie, and threw himself down into a chair. - -So this was college! This was the fraternity--that goddamned rat house! -That was what he had pledged allegiance to, was it? Those were his -brothers, were they? Brothers! Brothers! - -He fairly leaped out of his chair and began to pace the floor. College! -Gentlemen! A lot of muckers chasing around with a bunch of rats; that's -what they were. Great thing--fraternities. No doubt about it, they were -a great institution. - -He paused in his mental tirade, suddenly conscious of the fact that he -wasn't fair. Some of the fraternities, he knew, would never stand for -any such performance as he had witnessed that evening; most of them, he -was sure, wouldn't. It was just the Nu Deltas and one or two others; -well, maybe three or four. So that's what he had joined, was it? - -He thought of Hester Sheville, of her whisky breath, her lascivious -pawing--and his hands clenched. "Filthy little rat," he said aloud, "the -stinkin', rotten rat." - -Then he remembered that there had been girls there who hadn't drunk -anything, girls who somehow managed to move through the whole orgy calm -and sweet. His anger mounted. It was a hell of a way to treat a decent -girl, to ask her to a dance with a lot of drunkards and soused rats. - -He was warm with anger. Reckless of the buttons, he tore off his -waistcoat and threw it on a chair. The jeweled fraternity pin by the -pocket caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment and then slowly -unpinned it. He let it lie in his hand and addressed it aloud, hardly -aware of the fact that he was speaking at all. - -"So that's what you stand for, is it? For snobs and politicians and -muckers. Well, I don't want any more of you--not--one--damn--bit-- -more--of--you." - -He tossed the pin indifferently upon the center-table, making up his -mind that he would resign from the fraternity the next day. - -When the next day came he found, however, that his anger had somewhat -abated. He was still indignant, but he didn't have the courage to go -through with his resignation. Such an action, he knew, would mean a -great deal of publicity, publicity impossible to avoid. The fraternity -would announce its acceptance of his resignation in "The Sanford Daily -News"; and then he would either have to lie or start a scandal. - -As the days went by and he thought more and more about the dance, he -began to doubt his indignation. Wasn't he after all a prude to get so -hot? Wasn't he perhaps a prig, a sissy? At times he thought that he was; -at other times he was sure that he wasn't. He could be permanently sure -of only one thing, that he was a cynic. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -Hugh avoided the Nu Delta house for the remainder of the term and spent -more time on his studies than he had since he had entered college. The -result was, of course, that he made a good record, and the A that Henley -gave him in English delighted him so much that he almost forgot his -fraternity troubles. Not quite, however. During the first few weeks of -the vacation he often thought of talking to his father about Nu Delta, -but he could not find the courage to destroy his father's illusions. He -found, too, that he couldn't talk to his mother about things that he had -seen and learned at college. Like most of his friends, he felt that "the -folks wouldn't understand." - -He spent the first two months at home working on the farm, but when -Norry Parker invited him to visit him for a month on Long Island Sound, -Hugh accepted the invitation and departed for the Parker summer cottage -in high feather. He was eager to see Norry again, but he was even more -eager to see New York. He had just celebrated his twentieth birthday, -and he considered it disgraceful that he had never visited the "Big -City," as New York was always known at Sanford. Norry met him at Grand -Central, a livelier and more robust Norry than Hugh had ever seen. The -boy actually seemed like a boy and not a sprite; his cheeks were tanned -almost brown, and his gray eyes danced with excitement when he spotted -Hugh in the crowd. - -"Gee, Hugh, I'm glad to see you," he exclaimed, shaking Hugh's hand -joyously. "I'm tickled to death that you could come." - -"So am I," said Hugh heartily, really happy to see Norry looking so -well, and thrilled to be in New York. "Gosh, you look fine. I hardly -know you. Where'd you get all the pep?" - -"Swimming' and sailing. This is the first summer I've been well enough -to swim all I want to. Oh, it's pretty down where we are. You'll love -the nights, Hugh. The Sound is wonderful." - -"I'll bet. Well, where do we go from here? Say, this is certainly a -whale of a station, isn't it? It makes me feel like a hick." - -"Oh, you'll get over that soon enough," Norry, the seasoned New Yorker, -assured him easily. "We're going right out to the cottage. It's too hot -to-day to run around the city, but we'll come in soon and you can give -it the once-over." He took Hugh's arm and led him out of the station. - -It had never entered Hugh's mind that Norry's father might be rich. He -had noticed that Norry's clothes were very well tailored, and Norry had -told him that his violin was a Cremona, but the boy was not lavish with -money and never talked about it at all. Hugh was therefore surprised and -a little startled to see Norry walk up to an expensive limousine with a -uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. He wondered if the Parkers weren't too -high-hat for him? - -"We'll go right home, Martin," Norry said to the chauffeur. "Get in, -Hugh." - -The Parker cottage was a short distance from New Rochelle. It was a -beautiful place, hardly in the style of a Newport "cottage" but roomy -and very comfortable. It was not far from the water, and the Parkers -owned their own boat-house. - -Mrs. Parker was on the veranda when the car drew up at the steps. - -"Hello, Mother," Norry called. - -She got up and ran lightly down the steps, her hand held out in welcome -to Hugh. - -"I know that you are Hugh Carver," she said in a beautifully modulated -voice, "and I am really delighted to meet you. Norry has talked so much -about you that I should have felt cheated if you hadn't come." - -Hugh's fears immediately departed. "I should have myself," he replied. -"It was awfully good of you to invite me." - -After meeting Norry's father and mother, Hugh understood the boy -better. Mrs. Parker was both charming and pretty, a delightful woman who -played the piano with professional skill. Mr. Parker was an artist, a -portrait-painter, and he got prices for his pictures that staggered Hugh -when Norry mentioned them casually. He was a quiet, grave man with gray -eyes like his son's. - -When he had a minute alone with Hugh, he said to him with simple -sincerity: "You have been very kind to Norry, and we are grateful. He is -a strange, poetic lad who needs the kind of understanding friendship you -have given him. We should have been deeply disappointed if you hadn't -been able to visit us." - -The expressions of gratitude embarrassed Hugh, but they made him feel -sure of his welcome; and once he was sure of that he began to enjoy -himself as he never had before. Before the month was out, he had made -many visits to New York and was able to talk about both the Ritz and -Macdougal Alley with elaborate casualness when he returned to college. -He and Norry went swimming nearly every day and spent hours sailing on -the Sound. - -Norry introduced him to the many girls who had summer homes near the -Parker cottage. They were a new type to him, boarding-school products, -sure of themselves, "finished" with a high polish that glittered -effectively, daringly frank both in their speech and their actions, -beautiful dancers, good swimmers, full of "dirt," as they called gossip, -and as offhand with men as they were with each other. Within a week Hugh -got over his prejudice against women's smoking. Nearly every woman he -met, including Mrs. Parker, smoked, and every girl carried her -cigarette-case. - -Most of the girls treated Norry as if he were a very nice small boy, but -they adopted a different attitude toward Hugh. They flirted with him, -perfected his "petting" technique, occasionally treated him to a drink, -and made no pretense of hiding his attraction for them. - -At first Hugh was startled and a little repelled, but he soon grew to -like the frankness, the petting, and the liquor; and he was having a -much too exciting time to pause often for criticism of himself or -anybody else. It was during the last week of his visit that he fell in -love. - -He and Norry were standing near the float watching a number of swimmers. -Suddenly Hugh was attracted by a girl he had never seen before. She wore -a red one-piece bathing-suit that revealed every curve of her slender, -boyish figure. She noticed Norry and threw up her arm in greeting. - -"Who is she?" Hugh demanded eagerly. - -"Cynthia Day. She's just back from visiting friends in Maine. She's an -awfully good swimmer. Watch her." The girl poised for an instant on the -edge of the float and then dived gracefully into the water, striking out -with a powerful overhand stroke for another float a quarter of a mile -out in the Sound. The boys watched her red cap as she rounded the float -and started back, swimming easily and expertly. When she reached the -beach, she ran out of the water, rubbed her hands over her face, and -then strolled over to Norry. - -Her hair was concealed by a red bathing-cap, but Hugh guessed that it -was brown; at any rate, her eyes were brown and very large. She had an -impudent little nose and full red lips. - -"'Lo, Norry," she said, holding out her hand. "How's the infant?" - -"Oh, I'm fine. This is my friend Hugh Carver." - -"I've heard about you," she said as they shook hands. "I only got back -last night, but everybody seems to be digging dirt about Norry's friend. -Three of my friends are enemies on account of you, and one of 'em says -she's going in swimming some day and forget to come back if you don't -give her a little more time." - -Hugh blushed, but he had learned a few things in the past weeks. - -"I wish they would tell me about it," he said with a fair assumption of -ease. "Why didn't you come back sooner?" He was pleased with that -speech. He wouldn't have dared it a month before. - -The brown eyes smiled at him. "Because I didn't know you were here. You -haven't got a cigarette about you, have you? Norry's useless when it -comes to smokes." - -Hugh did have a package of cigarettes. She took one, put it in her -mouth, and waited for Hugh to light it for her. When he did, she gazed -curiously over the flame at him. She puffed the cigarette for a moment -and then said, "You look like a good egg. Let's talk." She threw herself -down on the sand, and the boys sat down beside her. - -From that moment Hugh was lost. For the remaining days of the visit he -spent every possible moment with Cynthia, fascinated by her chatter, -thrilled by the touch of her hand. She made no objection when he offered -shyly to kiss her; she quietly put her arms around his neck and turned -her face up to his--and her kisses set him aflame. - -For once, he did not want to return to college, and when he arrived in -Haydensville he felt none of his usual enthusiasm. The initiation of the -freshmen amused him only slightly, and the football games did not seem -so important as they had the two previous years. A letter from Cynthia -was the most important thing in the world, and she wrote good letters, -chatty, gay, and affectionate. - -Custom made it necessary for him to room in the fraternity house. It was -an unwritten law of Nu Delta that all members live in the house their -last two years, and Hugh hardly dared to contest the law. There were -four men in the chapter whom he thoroughly liked and with whom he would -have been glad to room, but they all had made their arrangements by the -time he spoke to them; so he was forced to accept Paul Vinton's -invitation to room with him. - -Vinton was a cheerful youth with too much money and not enough sense. He -wanted desperately to be thought a good fellow, a "regular guy," and he -was willing to buy popularity if necessary by standing treat to any one -every chance he got. He was known all over the campus as a "prize -sucker." - -He bored Hugh excessively by his confidences and almost offensive -generosity. He always had a supply of Scotch whisky on hand, and he -offered it to him so constantly that Hugh drank too much because it was -easier and pleasanter to drink than to refuse. - -Tucker had graduated, and the new president, Leonard Gates, was an -altogether different sort of man. There had been a fight in the -fraternity over his election. The "regular guys" opposed him and offered -one of their own number as a candidate. Gates, however, was prominent in -campus activities and had his own following in the house; as a result, -he was elected by a slight margin. - -He won Hugh's loyalty at the first fraternity meeting after he took the -chair. "Some things are going to be changed in this house," he said -sternly, "or I will bring influence to bear that will change them." -Every one knew that he referred to the national president of the -fraternity. "There will be no more drunken brawls in this house such as -we had at the last house dance. Any one who brings a cheap woman into -this house at a dance will hear from it. Both my fiancée and my sister -were at the last dance. I do not intend that they shall be insulted -again. This is not a bawdy-house, and I want some of you to remember -that." - -He tried very hard to pass a rule, such as many of the fraternities had, -that no one could bring liquor into the house and that there should be -no gambling. He failed, however. The brothers took his scolding about -the dance because most of them were heartily ashamed of that occasion; -but they announced that they did not intend to have the chapter turned -into the S.C.A., which was the Sanford Christian Association. It would -have been well for Hugh if the law had been passed. Vinton's insistent -generosity was rapidly turning him into a steady drinker. He did not get -drunk, but he was taking down more high-balls than were good for him. - -Outside of his drinking, however, he was leading a virtuous and, on the -whole, an industrious life. He was too much in love with Cynthia Day to -let his mind dwell on other women, and he had become sufficiently -interested in his studies to like them for their own sake. - -A change had come over the campus. It was inexplicable but highly -significant. There had been evidences of it the year before, but now it -became so evident that even some of the members of the faculty were -aware of it. Intolerance seemed to be dying, and the word "wet" was -heard less often. The undergraduates were forsaking their old gods. The -wave of materialism was swept back by an in-rushing tide of idealism. -Students suddenly ceased to concentrate in economics and filled the -English and philosophy classes to overflowing. - -No one was able really to explain the causes for the change, but it was -there and welcome. The "Sanford Literary Magazine," which had been -slowly perishing for several years, became almost as popular as the "Cap -and Bells," the comic magazine, which coined money by publishing risque -jokes and pictures of slightly dressed women. A poetry magazine daringly -made its appearance on the campus and, to the surprise of its editors, -was received so cordially that they were able to pay the printer's bill. - -It became the fashion to read. Instructors in English were continually -being asked what the best new books were or if such and such a book was -all that it was "cracked up to be." If the instructor hadn't read the -book, he was treated to a look of contempt that sent him hastening to -the library. - -Of course, not all of the undergraduates took to reading and thinking; -the millennium had not arrived, but the intelligent majority began to -read and discuss books openly, and the intelligent majority ruled the -campus. - -Hugh was one of the most enthusiastic of the readers. He was taking a -course in nineteenth-century poetry with Blake, the head of the English -department. His other instructors either bored him or left him cold, but -Blake turned each class hour into a thrilling experience. He was a -handsome man with gray hair, dark eyes, and a magnificent voice. He -taught poetry almost entirely by reading it, only occasionally -interpolating an explanatory remark, and he read beautifully. His -reading was dramatic, almost tricky; but it made the poems live for his -students, and they reveled in his classes. - -Hugh's junior year was made almost beautiful by that poetry course and -by his adoration for Cynthia. He was writing verses constantly--and he -found "Cynthia" an exceedingly troublesome word; it seemed as if nothing -would rime with it. At times he thought of taking to free verse, but the -results of his efforts did not satisfy him. He always had the feeling -that he had merely chopped up some rather bad prose; and he was -invariably right. Cynthia wrote him that she loved the poems he sent -her because they were so passionate. He blushed when he read her praise. -It disturbed him. He wished that she had used a different word. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -For the first term Hugh slid comfortably down a well oiled groove of -routine. He went to the movies regularly, wrote as regularly to Cynthia -and thought about her even more, read enormous quantities of poetry, -"bulled" with his friends, attended all the athletic contests, played -cards occasionally, and received his daily liquor from Vinton. He no -longer protested when Vinton offered him a drink; he accepted it as a -matter of course, and he had almost completely forgotten that "smoking -wasn't good for a runner." He had just about decided that he wasn't a -runner, anyway. - -One evening in early spring he met George Winsor as he was crossing the -campus. - -"Hello, George. Where are you going?" - -"Over to Ted Alien's room. Big poker party to-night. Don't you want to -sit in?" - -"You told me last week that you had sworn off poker. How come you're -playing again so soon?" Hugh strolled lazily along with Winsor. - -"Not poker, Hugh--craps. I've sworn off craps for good, and maybe I'll -swear off poker after to-night. I'm nearly a hundred berries to the good -right now, and I can afford to play if I want to." - -"I'm a little ahead myself," said Hugh. "I don't play very often, -though, except in the house when the fellows insist. I can't shoot craps -at all, and I get tired of cards after a couple of hours." - -"I'm a damn fool to play," Winsor asserted positively, "a plain damn -fool, I oughtn't to waste my time at it, but I'm a regular fiend for the -game. I get a great kick out of it. How's to sit in with us? There's -only going to be half a dozen fellows. Two-bit limit." - -"Yeah, it'll start with a two-bit limit, but after an hour deuces'll be -wild all over the place and the sky will be the limit. I've sat in those -games before." - -Winsor laughed. "Guess you're right, but what's the odds? Better shoot a -few hands." - -"Well, all-right, but I can't stay later than eleven. I've got a quiz in -eccy to-morrow, and I've got to bone up on it some time to-night." - -"I've got that quiz, too. I'll leave with you at eleven." - -Winsor and Hugh entered the dormitory and climbed the stairs. Allen's -door was open, and several undergraduates were lolling around the room, -smoking and chatting. They welcomed the new-comers with shouts of "Hi, -Hugh," and "Hi, George." - -Allen had a large round table in the center of his study, and the boys -soon had it cleared for action. Allen tossed the cards upon the table, -produced several ash-trays, and then carefully locked the door. - -"Keep an ear open for Mac," he admonished his friends; "He's warned me -twice now," "Mac" was the night-watchman, and he had a way of dropping -in unexpectedly on gambling parties. "Here are the chips. You count 'em -out, George. Two-bit limit." - -The boys drew up chairs to the table, lighted cigarettes or pipes, and -began the game. Hugh had been right; the "two-bit limit" was soon -lifted, and Allen urged his guests to go as far as they liked. - -There were ugly rumors about Allen around the campus. He was good -looking, belonged to a fraternity in high standing, wore excellent -clothes, and did fairly well in his studies; but the rumors persisted. -There were students who insisted that he hadn't the conscience of a -snake, and a good many of them hinted that no honest man ever had such -consistently good luck at cards and dice. - -The other boys soon got heated and talkative, but Allen said little -besides announcing his bids. His blue eyes remained coldly -expressionless whether he won or lost the hand; his crisp, curly brown -hair remained neatly combed and untouched by a nervous hand; his lips -parted occasionally in a quiet smile: he was the perfect gambler, never -excited, always in absolute control of himself. - -Hugh marveled at the control as the evening wore on. He was excited, -and, try as he would, he could not keep his excitement from showing. -Luck, however, was with him; by ten o'clock he was seventy-five dollars -ahead, and most of it was Allen's money. - -Hugh passed by three hands in succession, unwilling to take any chances. -He had decided to "play close," never betting unless he held something -worth putting his money on. - -Allen dealt the fourth hand. "Ante up," he said quietly. The five other -men followed his lead in tossing chips into the center of the table. He -looked at his hand. "Two blue ones if you want to stay in." Winsor and -two of the men threw down their cards, but Hugh and a lad named Mandel -each shoved two blue chips into the pot. - -Hugh had three queens and an ace. "One card," he said to Allen. Allen -tossed him the card, and Hugh's heart leaped when he saw that it was an -ace. - -"Two cards, Ted," Mandel requested, nervously crushing his cigarette in -an ash-tray. He picked up the cards one at a time, lifting each slowly -by one corner, and peeking at it as if he were afraid that a sudden full -view would blast him to eternity. His face did not change expression as -he added the cards to the three that he held in his hand. - -"I'm sitting pretty," Allen remarked casually, picking up the five -cards that he had laid down before he dealt. - -The betting began, Hugh nervous, openly excited, Mandel stonily calm, -Allen completely at ease. At first the bets were for a dollar, but they -gradually rose to five. Mandel threw down his cards. - -"Fight it out," he said morosely. "I've thrown away twenty-five bucks, -and I'll be damned if I'm going to throw away any more to see your -four-flushes." - -Allen lifted a pile of chips and let them fall lightly, clicking a rapid -staccato. "It'll cost you ten dollars to see my hand, Hugh," he said -quietly. - -"It'll cost you twenty if you want to see mine," Hugh responded, tossing -the equivalent to thirty dollars into the pot. He watched Allen eagerly, -but Allen's face remained quite impassive as he raised Hugh another ten. - -The four boys who weren't playing leaned forward, pipes or cigarettes in -their mouths, their stomachs pressed against the table, their eyes -narrowed and excited. The air was a stench of stale smoke; the silence -between bets was electric. - -The betting continued, Hugh sure that Allen was bluffing, but Allen -never failed to raise him ten dollars on every bet. Finally Hugh had a -hundred dollars in the pot and dared not risk more on his hand. - -"I think you're bluffing, goddamn it," he said, his voice shrill and -nervous. "I'll call you. Show your stinkin' hand." - -"Oh, not so stinkin'," Allen replied lightly. "I've got four of a kind, -all of 'em kings. Let's see your three deuces." - -He tossed down his hand, and Hugh slumped in his chair at the sight of -the four kings. He shoved the pile of chips toward Allen. "Take the pot, -damn you. Of all the bastard luck. Look!" He slapped down his cards -angrily. "A full house, queens up. Christ!" He burst into a flood of -obscenity, the other boys listening sympathetically, all except Allen -who was carefully stacking the chips. - -In a few minutes Hugh's anger died. He remembered that he was only about -twenty-five dollars behind and that he had an hour in which to recover -them. His face became set and hard; his hands lost their jerky -eagerness. He played carefully, never daring to enter a big pot, never -betting for more than his hands were worth. - -As the bets grew larger, the room grew quieter. Every one was smoking -constantly; the air was heavy with smoke, and the stench grew more and -more foul. Outside of a soft, "I raise you twenty," or, even, "Fifty -bucks if you want to see my hand," a muttered oath or a request to buy -chips, there was hardly a word said. The excitement was so intense that -it hurt; the expletives smelled of the docks. - -At times there was more than five hundred dollars in a pot, and five -times out of seven when the pot was big, Allen won it. Win or lose, he -continued cool and calm, at times smoking a pipe, other times puffing -nonchalantly at a cigarette. - -The acrid smoke cut Hugh's eyes; they smarted and pained, but he -continued to light cigarette after cigarette, drawing the smoke deep -into his lungs, hardly aware of the fact that they hurt. - -He won and lost, won and lost, but gradually he won back the twenty-five -dollars and a little more. The college clock struck eleven. He knew that -he ought to go, but he wondered if he could quit with honor when he was -ahead. - -"I ought to go," he said hesitatingly. "I told George when I said that -I'd sit in that I'd have to leave at eleven. I've got an eccy quiz -to-morrow that I've got to study for." - -"Oh, don't leave now," one of the men said excitedly. "Why, hell, man, -the game's just getting warm." - -"I know," Hugh agreed, "and I hate like hell to quit, but I've really -got to beat it. Besides, the stakes are too big for me. I can't afford a -game like this." - -"You can afford it as well as I can," Mandel said irritably. "I'm over -two hundred berries in the hole right now, and you can goddamn well bet -that I'm not going to leave until I get them back." - -"Well, I'm a hundred and fifty to the bad," Winsor announced miserably, -"but I've got to go. If I don't hit that eccy, I'm going to be out of -luck." He shoved back his chair. "I hate like hell to leave; but I -promised Hugh that I'd leave with him at eleven, and I've got to do it." - -Allen had been quite indifferent when Hugh said that he was leaving. -Hugh was obviously small money, and Allen had no time to waste on -chicken-feed, but Winsor was a different matter. - -"You don't want to go, George, when you're in the hole. Better stick -around. Maybe you'll win it back. Your luck can't be bad all night." - -"You're right," said Winsor, stretching mightily. "It can't be bad all -night, but I can't hang around all night to watch it change. You're -welcome to the hundred and fifty, Ted, but some night soon I'm coming -over and take it away from you." - -Allen laughed. "Any time you say, George." - -Hugh and Winsor settled their accounts, then stood up, aching and weary, -their muscles cramped from three hours of sitting and nervous tension. -They said brief good nights, unlocked the door--they heard Allen lock it -behind them--and left their disgruntled friends, glad to be out of the -noisome odor of the room. - -"God, what luck!" Winsor exclaimed as they started down the hall. "I'm -off Allen for good. That boy wins big pots too regularly and always -loses the little ones. I bet he's a cold-deck artist or something." - -"He's something all right," Hugh agreed. "Cripes, I feel dirty and -stinko. I feel as if I'd been in a den." - -"You have been. Say, what's that?" They had almost traversed the length -of the long hall when Winsor stopped suddenly, taking Hugh by the arm. A -door was open, and they could hear somebody reading. - -"What's what?" Hugh asked, a little startled by the suddenness of -Winsor's question. - -"Listen. That poem, I've heard it somewhere before. What is it?" - -Hugh listened a moment and then said: "Oh, that's the poem Prof Blake -read us the other day--you know, 'marpessa.' It's about the shepherd, -_Apollo_, and _Marpessa_. It's great stuff. Listen." - -They remained standing in the deserted hall, the voice coming clearly to -them through the open doorway. "It's Freddy Fowler," Winsor whispered. -"He can sure read." - -The reading stopped, and they heard Fowler say to some one, presumably -his room-mate: "This is the part that I like best. Get it," Then he read -_Idas's_ plea to _Marpessa_: - - - "'After such argument what can I plead? - Or what pale promise make? Yet since it is - In women to pity rather than to aspire, - A little I will speak. I love thee then - Not only for thy body packed with sweet - Of all this world, that cup of brimming June, - That jar of violet wine set in the air, - That palest rose sweet in the night of life; - Nor for that stirring bosom, all besieged - By drowsing lovers, or thy perilous hair; - Nor for that face that might indeed provoke - Invasion of old cities; no, nor all - Thy freshness stealing on me like strange sleep.'" - - -Winsor's hand tightened on Hugh's arm, and the two boys stood almost -rigid listening to the young voice, which was trembling with emotion, -rich with passion: - - - "'Not only for this do I love thee, but - Because Infinity upon thee broods; - And thou are full of whispers and of shadows. - Thou meanest what the sea has striven to say - So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell; - Thou art what all the winds have uttered not, - What the still night suggesteth to the heart. - Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth, - Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea; - Thy face remembered is from other worlds, - It has been died for, though I know not when, - It has been sung of, though I know not where.'" - - -"God," Winsor whispered, "that's beautiful." - -"Hush. This is the best part." - - - "'It has the strangeness of the luring West, - And of sad sea-horizons; beside thee - I am aware of other times and lands, - Of birth far back, of lives in many stars. - O beauty lone and like a candle clear - In this dark country of the world! Thou art - My woe, my early light, my music dying.'" - - -Hugh and Winsor remained silent while the young voice went on reading -_Maressa's_ reply, her gentle refusal of the god and her proud -acceptance, of the mortal. Finally they heard the last words: - - - "When she had spoken, Idas with one cry - Held her, and there was silence; while the god - In anger disappeared. Then slowly they, - He looking downward, and she gazing up, - Into the evening green wandered away." - - -When the voice paused, the poem done, the two boys walked slowly down -the hall, down the steps, and out into the cool night air. Neither said -a Word until they were half-way across the campus. Then Winsor spoke -softly: - -"God! Wasn't that beautiful?" - -"Yes--beautiful." Hugh's voice was hardly more than a whisper. -"Beautiful.... It--it--oh, it makes me--kinda ashamed." - -"Me, too. Poker when we can have that! We're awful fools, Hugh." - -"Yes--awful fools." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -Prom came early in May, and Hugh looked forward to it joyously, partly -because it would be his first Prom and partly because Cynthia was -coming. Cynthia! He thought of her constantly, dreamed of her, wrote -poems about her and to her. At times his longing for her swelled into an -ecstasy of desire that racked and tore him. He was lost in love, his -moods sweeping him from lyric happiness to black despair. He wrote to -her several times a week, and between letters he took long walks -composing dithyrambic epistles that fortunately were never written. - -When he received her letter saying that she would come to Prom, he -yelled like a lunatic, pounded the astonished Vinton on the back, and -raced down-stairs to the living-room. - -"She's coming!" he shouted. - -There were several men in the room, and they all turned and looked at -him, some of them grinning broadly. - -"What th' hell, Hugh?" Leonard Gates asked amiably. "Who's coming? Who's -she?" - -Hugh blushed and shuffled his feet. He knew that he had laid himself -open to a "royal razzing," but he proceeded to bluff himself out of the -dilemma. - -"She? Oh, yes, she. Well, she is she. Altogether divine, Len." He was -trying hard to be casual and flippant, but his eyes were dancing and his -lips trembled with smiles. - -Gates grinned at him. "A poor bluff, old man--a darn poor bluff. You're -in love, _pauvre enfant_, and I'm afraid that you're in a very bad way. -Come on, tell us the lady's name, her pedigree, and list of charms." - -Hugh grinned back at Gates. "Chase yourself," he said gaily. "I won't -tell you a blamed thing about her." - -"You'd better," said Jim Saunders from the depths of a leather chair. -"Is she the jane whose picture adorns your desk?" - -"Yeah," Hugh admitted. "How do you like her?" - -"Very fair, very fair." Saunders was magnificently lofty. "I've seen -better, of course, but I've seen worse, too. Not bad--um, not very bad." - -The "razzing" had started, and Hugh lost his nerve. - -"Jim, you can go to hell," he said definitely, prepared to rush -up-stairs before Saunders could reply. "You don't know a queen when you -see one. Why, Cynthia--" - -"Cynthia!" four of the boys shouted. "So her name's Cynthia. That's--" - -But Hugh was half-way up-stairs, embarrassed and delighted. - -The girls arrived on Thursday, the train which brought most of them -reaching Haydensville early in the afternoon. Hugh paced up and down the -station, trying to keep up a pretense of a conversation with two or -three others. He gave the wrong reply twice and then decided to say -nothing more. He listened with his whole body for the first whistle of -the train, and so great was the chatter of the hundreds of waiting -youths that he never heard it. Suddenly the engine rounded a curve, and -a minute later the train stopped before the station. Immediately the -boys began to mill around the platform like cattle about to stampede, -standing on their toes to look over the heads of their comrades, -shoving, shouting, dancing in their impatience. - -Girls began to descend the steps of the cars. The stampede broke. A -youth would see "his girl" and start through the crowd for her. Dozens -spotted their girls at the same time and tried to run through the crowd. -They bumped into one another, laughed joyously, bumped into somebody -else, and finally reached the girl. - -When Hugh eventually saw Cynthia standing on a car platform near him, he -shouted to her and held his hand high in greeting. She saw him and waved -back, at the same time starting down the steps. - -She had a little scarlet hat pulled down over her curly brown hair, and -she wore a simple blue traveling-suit that set off her slender figure -perfectly. Her eyes seemed bigger and browner than ever, her nose more -impudently tilted, her mouth more supremely irresistible. Her cheeks -were daintily rouged, her eyebrows plucked into a thin arch. She was New -York from her small pumps to the expensively simple scarlet hat. - -Hugh dashed several people aside and grabbed her hand, squeezing it -unmercifully. - -"Oh, gee, Cynthia, I'm glad to see you. I thought the darn train was -never going to get here. How are you? Gee, you're looking great, -wonderful. Where's your suit-case?" He fairly stuttered in his -excitement, his words toppling over each other. - -"I'm full of pep. You look wonderful. There's my suit-case, the big -black one. Give the porter two bits or something. I haven't any change." -Hugh tipped the porter, picked up the suit-case with one hand, and took -Cynthia by the arm with the other, carefully piloting her through the -noisy, surging crowd of boys and girls, all of them talking at top speed -and in high, excited voices. - -Once Hugh and Cynthia were off the platform they could talk without -shouting. - -"We've got to walk up the hill," Hugh explained miserably. "I couldn't -get a car for love nor money. I'm awfully sorry." - -Cynthia did a dance-step and petted his arm happily. "What do I care? -I'm so--so damn glad to see you, Hugh. You look nicer'n ever--just as -clean and washed and sweet. Ooooh, look at him blush! Stop it or I'll -have to kiss you right here. Stop it, I say." - -But Hugh went right on blushing. "Go ahead," he said bravely. "I wish -you would." - -Cynthia laughed. "Like fun you do. You'd die of embarrassment. But your -mouth is an awful temptation. You have the sweetest mouth, Hugh. It's so -damn kissable." - -She continued to banter him until they reached the fraternity house. -"Where do I live?" she demanded. "In your room, I hope." - -"Yep. I'm staying down in Keller Hall with Norry Parker. His room-mate's -sick in the hospital; so he's got room for me. Norry's going to see you -later." - -"Right-o. What do we do when I get six pounds of dirt washed off and -some powder on my nose?" - -"Well, we're having a tea-dance here at the house at four-thirty; but -we've got an hour till then, and I thought we'd take a walk. I want to -show you the college." - -After Cynthia had repaired the damages of travel and had been introduced -to Hugh's fraternity brothers and their girls, she and Hugh departed -for a tour of the campus. The lawns were so green that the grass seemed -to be bursting with color; the elms waved tiny new leaves in a faint -breeze; the walls of the buildings were speckled with green patches of -ivy. Cynthia was properly awed by the chapel and enthusiastic over the -other buildings. She assured Hugh that Sanford men looked awfully smooth -in their knickers and white flannels; in fact, she said the whole -college seemed jake to her. - -They wandered past the lake and into the woods as if by common consent. -Once they were out of sight of passers-by, Hugh paused and turned to -Cynthia. Without a word she stepped into his arms and lifted her face to -his, Hugh's heart seemed to stop; he was so hungry for that kiss, he had -waited so long for it. - -When he finally took his lips from hers, Cynthia whispered softly, -"You're such a good egg, Hugh honey, such a damn good egg." - -Hugh could say nothing; he just held her close, his mind swimming -dizzily, his whole being atingle. For a long time he held her, kissing -her, now tenderly, now almost brutally, lost in a thrill of passion. - -Finally she whispered faintly: "No more, Hugh. Not now, dear." - -Hugh released her reluctantly. "I love you so damned hard, Cynthia," he -said huskily. "I--I can't keep my hands off of you." - -"I know," she replied. "But we've got to go back. Wait a minute, -though. I must look like the devil." She straightened her hat, powdered -her nose, and then tucked her arm in his. - -After the tea-dance and dinner, Hugh left her to dress for the Dramatic -Society musical comedy that was to be performed that evening. He -returned to Norry Parker's room and prepared to put on his Tuxedo. - -"You look as if somebody had left you a million dollars," Norry said to -Hugh. "I don't think I ever saw anybody look so happy. You--you shine." - -Hugh laughed. "I am happy, Norry, happy as hell. I'm so happy I ache. -Oh, God, Cynthia's wonderful. I'm crazy about her, Norry--plumb crazy." - -Norry had known Cynthia for years, and despite his ingenuousness, he had -noticed some of her characteristics. - -"I never expected you to fall in love with Cynthia, Hugh," he said in -his gentle way. "I'm awfully surprised." - -Hugh was humming a strain from "Say it with Music" while he undressed. -He pulled off his trousers and then turned to Norry, who was sitting on -the bed. "What did you say? You said something, didn't you?" - -Norry smiled. For some quite inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt -older than Hugh. - -"Yes, I said something. I said that I never expected you to fall in love -with Cynthia." - -Hugh paused in taking off his socks. "Why not?" he demanded. "She's -wonderful." - -"You're so different." - -"How different? We understand each other perfectly. Of course, we only -saw each other for a week when I was down at your place, but we -understood each other from the first. I was crazy about her as soon as I -saw her." - -Norry was troubled. "I don't think I can explain exactly," he said -slowly. "Cynthia runs with a fast crowd, and she smokes and drinks--and -you're--well, you're idealistic." - -Hugh pulled off his underclothes and laughed as he stuck his feet into -slippers and drew on a bath-robe. "Of course, she does. All the girls do -now. She's just as idealistic as I am." - -He wrapped the bath-robe around him and departed for the showers, -singing gaily: - - - "Say it with music, - Beautiful music; - Somehow they'd rather be kissed - To the strains of Chopin or Liszt. - A melody mellow played on a cello - Helps Mister Cupid along-- - So say it with a beautiful song." - - -Shortly he returned, still singing the same song, his voice full and -happy. He continued to sing as he dressed, paying no attention to Norry, -completely lost in his own Elysian thoughts. - -To Hugh and Cynthia the musical comedy was a complete success, although -the music, written by an undergraduate, was strangely reminiscent of -several recent Broadway song successes, and the plot of the comedy got -lost after the first ten minutes and was never recovered until the last -two. It was amusing to watch men try to act like women, and two of the -"ladies" of the chorus were patently drunk. _Cleopatra_, the leading -lady, was a wrestler and looked it, his biceps swelling magnificently -every time he raised his arms to embrace the comic _Antony_. It was -glorious nonsense badly enough done to be really funny. Hugh and -Cynthia, along with the rest of the audience, laughed joyously--and held -hands. - -After the play was over, they returned to the Nu Delta house and danced -until two in the morning. During one dance Cynthia whispered to him, -"Hugh, get me a drink or I'll pass out." - -Hugh, forgetting his indignation of the year before, went in search of -Vinton and deprived that young man of a pint of gin without a scruple. -He and Cynthia then sneaked behind the house and did away with the -liquor. Other couples were drinking, all of them surreptitiously, -Leonard Gates having laid down the law in no uncertain manner, and all -of the brothers were a little afraid of Gates. - -Cynthia slept until noon the next day, and Hugh went to his classes. In -the afternoon they attended a baseball game, and then returned to the -fraternity house for another tea-dance. The Prom was to be that night. -Hugh assured Cynthia that it was going to be a "wet party," and that -Vinton had sold him a good supply of Scotch. - -The campus was rife with stories: this was the wettest Prom on record, -the girls were drinking as much as the men, some of the fraternities had -made the sky the limit, the dormitories were being invaded by couples in -the small hours of the night, and so on. Hugh heard numerous stories but -paid no attention to them. He was supremely happy, and that was all that -mattered. True, several men had advised him to bring plenty of liquor -along to the Prom if he wanted to have a good time, and he was careful -to act on their advice, especially as Cynthia had assured him that she -would dance until doomsday if he kept her "well oiled with hooch." - -The gymnasium was gaily decorated for the Prom, the walls hidden with -greenery, the rafters twined with the college colors and almost lost -behind hundreds of small Japanese lanterns. The fraternity booths were -made of fir boughs, and the orchestra platform in the middle of the -floor looked like a small forest of saplings. - -The girls were beautiful in the soft glow of the lanterns, their arms -and shoulders smooth and white; the men were trim and neat in their -Tuxedos, the dark suits emphasizing the brilliant colors of the girls' -gowns. - -It was soon apparent that some of the couples had got at least half -"oiled" before the dance began, and before an hour had passed many more -couples gave evidence of imbibing more freely than wisely. Occasionally -a hysterical laugh burst shrilly above the pounding of the drums and the -moaning of the saxophones. A couple would stagger awkwardly against -another couple and then continue unevenly on an uncertain way. - -The stags seemed to be the worst offenders. Many of them were joyously -drunk, dashing dizzily across the floor to find a partner, and once -having taken her from a friend, dragging her about, happily unconscious -of anything but the girl and the insistent rhythm of the music. - -The musicians played as if in a frenzy, the drums pound-pounding a -terrible tom-tom, the saxophones moaning and wailing, the violins -singing sensuously, shrilly as if in pain, an exquisite searing pain. - -Boom, boom, boom, boom. "Stumbling all around, stumbling all around, -stumbling all around so funny--" Close-packed the couples moved slowly -about the gymnasium, body pressed tight to body, swaying in place--boom, -boom, boom, boom--"Stumbling here and there, stumbling everywhere--" -Six dowagers, the chaperons, sat in a corner, gossiped, and idly watched -the young couples.... A man suddenly released his girl and raced -clumsily for the door, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other -stretched uncertainly in front of him. - -Always the drums beating their terrible tom-tom, their primitive, -blood-maddening tom-tom.... Boom, boom, boom, boom--"I like it just a -little bit, just a little bit, quite a little bit." The music ceased, -and some of the couples disentangled themselves; others waited in frank -embrace for the orchestra to begin the encore.... A boy slumped in a -chair, his head in his hands. His partner sought two friends. They -helped the boy out of the gymnasium. - -The orchestra leader lifted his bow. The stags waited in a broken line, -looking for certain girls. The music began, turning a song with comic -words into something weirdly sensuous--strange syncopations, uneven, -startling drum-beats--a mad tom-tom. The couples pressed close together -again, swaying, barely moving in place--boom, boom, boom, -boom--"Second-hand hats, second-hand clothes--That's why they call me -second-hand Rose...." The saxophones sang the melody with passionate -despair; the violins played tricks with a broken heart; the clarinets -rose shrill in pain; the drums beat on--boom, boom, boom, boom.... A -boy and girl sought a dark corner. He shielded her with his body while -she took a drink from a flask. Then he turned his face to the corner and -drank. A moment later they were back on the floor, holding each other -tight, drunkenly swaying... Finally the last strains, a wall of -agony--"Ev-'ry one knows that I'm just Sec-ond-hand Rose--from Sec-ond -Av-en-ue." - -The couples moved slowly off the floor, the pounding of the drums still -in their ears and in their blood; some of them sought the fraternity -booths; some of the girls retired to their dressing-room, perhaps to -have another drink; many of the men went outside for a smoke and to tip -a flask upward. Through the noise, the sex-madness, the half-drunken -dancers, moved men and women quite sober, the men vainly trying to -shield the women from contact with any one who was drunk. There was an -angry light in those men's eyes, but most of them said nothing, merely -kept close to their partners, ready to defend them from any too -assertive friend. - -Again the music, again the tom-tom of the drums. On and on for hours. A -man "passed out cold" and had to be carried from the gymnasium. A girl -got a "laughing jag" and shrieked with idiotic laughter until her -partner managed to lead her protesting off the floor. On and on, the -constant rhythmic wailing of the fiddles, syncopated passion screaming -with lust, the drums, horribly primitive; drunken embraces.... "Oh, -those Wabash Blues--I know I got my dues--A lone-some soul am I--I feel -that I could die..." Blues, sobbing, despairing blues.... Orgiastic -music--beautiful, hideous! "Can-dle light that gleams--Haunts me in my -dreams..." The drums boom, boom, boom, booming--"I'll pack my walking -shoes, to lose--those Wa-bash Blues..." - -Hour after hour--on and on. Flushed faces, breaths hot with passion and -whisky.... Pretty girls, cool and sober, dancing with men who held them -with drunken lasciviousness; sober men hating the whisky breaths of the -girls.... On and on, the drunken carnival to maddening music--the -passion, the lust. - -Both Hugh and Cynthia were drinking, and by midnight both of them were -drunk, too drunk any longer to think clearly. As they danced, Hugh was -aware of nothing but Cynthia's body, her firm young body close to his. -His blood beat with the pounding of the drums. He held her tighter and -tighter--the gymnasium, the other couples, a swaying mist before his -eyes. - -When the dance ended, Cynthia whispered huskily, "Ta-take me somewhere, -Hugh." - -Strangely enough, he got the significance of her words at once. His -blood raced, and he staggered so crazily that Cynthia had to hold him by -the arm. - -"Sure--sure; I'll--I'll ta-take you some-somewhere. I--I, too, -Cyntheea." - -They walked unevenly out of the gymnasium, down the steps, and through -the crowd of smokers standing outside. Hardly aware of what he was -doing, Hugh led Cynthia to Keller Hall, which was not more than fifty -yards distant. - -He took a flask out of his pocket. "Jush one more drink," he said -thickly and emptied the bottle. Then, holding Cynthia desperately by the -arm, he opened the door of Keller Hall and stumbled with her up the -stairs to Norry Parker's room. Fortunately the hallways were deserted, -and no one saw them. The door was unlocked, and Hugh, after searching -blindly for the switch, finally clicked on the lights and mechanically -closed the door behind him. - -He was very dizzy. He wanted another drink--and he wanted Cynthia. He -put his arms around her and pulled her drunkenly to him. The door of one -of the bedrooms opened, and Norry Parker stood watching them. He had -spent the evening at the home of a musical professor and had returned to -his room only a few minutes before. His face went white when he saw the -embracing couple. - -"Hugh!" he said sharply. - -Hugh and Cynthia, still clinging to each other, looked at him. Slowly -Cynthia took her arms from around Hugh's neck and forced herself from -his embrace. Norry disappeared into his room and came out a minute later -with his coat on; he had just begun to undress when he had heard a noise -in the study. - -"I'll see you home, Cynthia," he said quietly. He took her arm and led -her out of the room--and locked the door behind him. Hugh stared at them -blankly, swaying slightly, completely befuddled. Cynthia went with Norry -willingly enough, leaning heavily on his arm and occasionally sniffing. - -When he returned to his room, Hugh was sitting on the floor staring at a -photograph of Norry's mother. He had been staring at it for ten minutes, -holding it first at arm's length and then drawing it closer and closer -to him. No matter where he held it, he could not see what it was--and he -was determined to see it. - -Norry walked up to him and reached for the photograph. - -"Give me that," he said curtly. "Take your hands on my mother's -picture." - -"It's not," Hugh exclaimed angrily; "it's not. It's my musher, my own -mu-musher--my, my own dear musher. Oh, oh!" - -He slumped down in a heap and began to sob bitterly, muttering, "Musher, -musher, musher." - -Norry was angry. The whole scene was revolting to him. His best friend -was a disgusting sight, apparently not much better than a gibbering -idiot. And Hugh had shamefully abused his hospitality. Norry was no -longer gentle and boyish; he was bitterly disillusioned. - -"Get up," he said briefly. "Get up and go to bed." - -"Tha's my musher. You said it wasn't my--my musher." Hugh looked up, his -face wet with maudlin tears. - -Norry leaned over and snatched the picture from him. "Take your dirty -hands off of that," he snapped. "Get up and go to bed." - -"Tha's my musher." Hugh was gently persistent. - -"It's not your mother. You make me sick. Go to bed." Norry tugged at -Hugh's arm impotently; Hugh simply sat limp, a dead weight. - -Norry's gray eyes narrowed. He took a glass, filled it with cold water -in the bedroom, and then deliberately dashed the water into Hugh's face. - -Then he repeated the performance. - -Hugh shook his head and rubbed his hands wonderingly over his face. "I'm -no good," he said almost clearly. "I'm no good." - -"You certainly aren't. Come on; get up and go to bed." Again Norry -tugged at his arm, and this time Hugh, clinging clumsily to the edge of -the table by which he was sitting, staggered to his feet. - -"I'm a blot," he declared mournfully; "I'm no good, Norry. I'm an--an -excreeshence, an ex-cree-shence, tha's what I am." - -"Something of the sort," Norry agreed in disgust. "Here, let me take off -your coat." - -"Leave my coat alone." He pulled himself away from Norry. "I'm no good. -I'm an ex-cree-shence. I'm goin' t' commit suicide; tha's what I'm goin' -t' do. Nobody'll care 'cept my musher, and she wouldn't either if she -knew me. Oh, oh, I wish I didn't use a shafety-razor. I'll tell you what -to do, Norry." He clung pleadingly to Norry's arm and begged with -passionate intensity. "You go over to Harry King's room. He's got a -re-re--a pistol. You get it for me and I'll put it right here--" he -touched his temple awkwardly--"and I'll--I'll blow my damn brains out. -I'm a blot, Norry; I'm an ex-cree-shence." - -Norry shook him. "Shut up. You've got to go to bed. You're drunk." - -"I'm sick. I'm an ex-cree-shence." The room was whizzing rapidly around -Hugh, and he clung hysterically to Norry. Finally he permitted himself -to be led into the bedroom and undressed, still moaning that he was an -"ex-cree-shence." - -The bed pitched. He lay on his right side, clutching the covers in -terror. He turned over on his back. Still the bed swung up and down -sickeningly. Then he twisted over to his left side, and the bed -suddenly swung into rest, almost stable. In a few minutes he was sound -asleep. - -He cut chapel and his two classes the next morning, one at nine and the -other at ten o'clock; in fact, it was nearly eleven when he awoke. His -head was splitting with pain, his tongue was furry, and his mouth tasted -like bilge-water. He made wry faces, passed his thick tongue around his -dry mouth--oh, so damnably dry!--and pressed the palms of his hands to -his pounding temples. He craved a drink of cold water, but he was afraid -to get out of bed. He felt pathetically weak and dizzy. - -Norry walked into the room and stood quietly looking at him. - -"Get me a drink, Norry, please," Hugh begged. - -"I'm parched." He rolled over. "Ouch! God, how my head aches!" - -Norry brought him the drink, but nothing less than three glasses even -began to satisfy Hugh. Then, still saying nothing, Norry put a cold -compress on Hugh's hot forehead. - -"Thanks, Norry old man. That's awfully damn good of you." - -Norry walked out of the room, and Hugh quickly fell into a light sleep. -An hour later he woke up, quite unaware of the fact that Norry had -changed the cold compress three times. The nap had refreshed him. He -still felt weak and faint; but his head no longer throbbed, and his -throat was less dry. - -"Norry," he called feebly. - -"Yes?" Norry stood in the doorway. "Feeling better?" - -"Yes, some. Come sit down on the bed. I want to talk to you. But get me -another drink first, please. My mouth tastes like burnt rubber." - -Norry gave him the drink and then sat down on the edge of the bed, -silently waiting. - -"I'm awfully ashamed of myself, old man," Hugh began. "I--I don't know -what to say. I can't remember much what happened. I remember bringing -Cynthia up here and you coming in and then--well, I somehow can't -remember anything after that. What did you do?" - -"I took Cynthia home and then came back and put you to bed." Norry gazed -at the floor and spoke softly. - -"You took Cynthia home?" - -"Of course." - -Hugh stared at him in awe. "But if you'd been seen with her in the dorm, -you'd have been fired from college." - -"Nobody saw us. It's all right." - -Hugh wanted to cry. "Oh, Lord, Norry, you're white," he exclaimed. "The -whitest fellow that ever lived. You took that chance for me." - -"That's all right." Norry was painfully embarrassed. - -"And I'm such a rotter. You--you know what we came up here for?" - -"I can guess." Norry's glance still rested on the floor. He spoke hardly -above a whisper. - -"Nothing happened. I swear it, Norry. I meant to--but--but you -came--thank God! I was awfully soused. I guess you think I'm rotten, -Norry. I suppose I am. I don't know how I could treat you this way. Are -you awfully angry?" - -"I was last night," Norry replied honestly, "but I'm not this morning. -I'm just terribly disappointed. I understand, I guess; I'm human, -too--but I'm disappointed. I can't forget the way you looked." - -"Don't!" Hugh cried. "Please don't, Norry. I--I can't stand it if you -talk that way. I'm so damned ashamed. Please forgive me." - -Norry was very near to tears. "Of course, I forgive you," he whispered, -"but I hope you won't do it again." - -"I won't, Norry. I promise you. Oh, God, I'm no good. That's twice I've -been stopped by an accident. I'll go straight now, though; I promise -you." - -Norry stood up. "It's nearly noon," he said more naturally. "Cynthia -will be wondering where you are." - -"Cynthia! Oh, Norry, how can I face her?" - -"You've got to," said the young moralist firmly. - -"I suppose so," the sinner agreed, his voice miserably lugubrious. -"God!" - -After three cups of coffee, however, the task did not seem so -impossible. Hugh entered the Nu Delta house with a fairly jaunty air and -greeted the men and women easily enough. His heart skipped a beat when -he saw Cynthia standing in the far corner of the living-room. She was -wearing her scarlet hat and blue suit. - -She saved him the embarrassment of opening the conversation. "Come into -the library," she said softly. "I want to speak to you." - -Wondering and rather frightened, he followed her. - -"I'm going home this afternoon," she began. "I've got everything packed, -and I've told everybody that I don't feel very well." - -"You aren't sick?" he asked, really worried. - -"Of course not, but I had to say something. The train leaves in an hour -or two, and I want to have a talk with you before I go." - -"But hang it, Cynthia, think of what you're missing. There's a baseball -game with Raleigh this afternoon, a tea-dance in the Union after that, -the Musical Clubs concert this evening--I sing with the Glee club and -Norry's going to play a solo, and I'm in the Banjo Club, too--and we are -going to have a farewell dance at the house after the concert." Hugh -pleaded earnestly; but somehow down in his heart he wished that she -wouldn't stay. - -"I know, but I've got to go. Let's go somewhere out in the woods where -we can talk without being disturbed." - -Still protesting, he led her out of the house, across the campus, past -the lake, and into the woods. Finally they sat down on a smooth rock. - -"I'm awfully sorry to bust up your party, Hugh," Cynthia began slowly, -"but I've been doing some thinking, and I've just got to beat it." She -paused a moment and then looked him square in the eyes. "Do you love -me?" - -For an instant Hugh's eyes dropped, and then he looked up and lied like -a gentleman. "Yes," he said simply; "I love you, Cynthia." - -She smiled almost wearily and shook her head. "You _are_ a good egg, -Hugh. It was white of you to say that, but I know that you don't love -me. You did yesterday, but you don't now. Do you realize that you -haven't asked to kiss me to-day?" - -Hugh flushed and stammered: "I--I've got an awful hang-over, Cynthia. I -feel rotten." - -"Yes, I know, but that isn't why you didn't want to kiss me. I know all -about it. Listen, Hugh." She faced him bravely. "I've been running with -a fast crowd for three years, and I've learned a lot about fellows; and -most of 'em that I've known weren't your kind. How old are you?" - -"Twenty-one in a couple of months." - -"I'm twenty and lots wiser about some things than you are. I've been -crazy about you--I guess I am kinda yet--and I know that you thought you -were in love with me. I wanted you to have hold of me all the time. -That's all that mattered. It was--was your body, Hugh. You're sweet and -fine, and I respect you, but I'm not the kid for you to run around with. -I'm too fast. I woke up early this morning, and I've done a lot of -thinking since. You know what we came near doing last night? Well, -that's all we want each other for. We're not in love." - -A phrase from the bull sessions rushed into Hugh's mind. "You mean--sex -attraction?" he asked in some embarrassment. He felt weak and tired. He -seemed to be listening to Cynthia in a dream. Nothing was real--and -everything was a little sad. - -"Yes, that's it--and, oh, Hugh, somehow I don't want that with you. -We're not the same kind at all. I used to think that when I got your -letters. Sometimes I hardly understood them, but I'd close my eyes and -see you so strong and blond and clean, and I'd imagine you were holding -me tight--and--and then I was happy. I guess I did kinda love you, but -we've spoiled it." She wanted desperately to cry but bit her lip and -held back her tears. - -"I think I know what you mean, Cynthia," Hugh said softly. "I don't know -much about love and sex attraction and that sort of thing, but I know -that I was happier kissing you than I've ever been in my life. I--I wish -that last night hadn't happened. I hate myself." - -"You needn't. It was more my fault than yours. I'm a pretty bad egg, I -guess; and the booze and you holding me was too much. I hate myself, -too. I've spoiled the nicest thing that ever happened to me." She looked -up at him, her eyes bright with tears. "I _did_ love you, Hugh. I loved -you as much as I could love any one." - -Hugh put his arms around her and drew her to him. Then he bent his head -and kissed her gently. There was no passion in his embrace, but there -was infinite tenderness. He felt spiritually and physically weak, as if -all his emotional resources had been quite spent. - -"I think that I love you more than I ever did before," he whispered. - -If he had shown any passion, if there had been any warmth in his kiss, -Cynthia might have believed him, but she was aware only of his -gentleness. She pushed him back and drew out of his arms. - -"No," she said sharply; "you don't love me. You're just sorry for -me.... You're just kind." - -Hugh had read "Marpessa" many times, and a line from it came to make her -attitude clear: - - - "thou wouldst grow kind; - Most bitter to a woman that was loved." - - -"Oh, I don't know; I don't know," he said miserably. "Let's not call -everything off now, Cynthia. Let's wait a while." - -"No!" She stood up decisively. "No. I hate loose ends." She glanced at -her tiny wrist-watch. "If I'm going to make that train, I've got to -hurry. We've got barely half an hour. Come, Hugh. Be a sport." - -He stood up, his face white and weary, his blue eyes dull and sad. - -"Just as you say, Cynthia," he said slowly. "But I'm going to miss you -like hell." - -She did not reply but started silently for the path. He followed her, -and they walked back to the fraternity house without saying a word, both -busy with unhappy thoughts. - -When they reached the fraternity, she got her suit-case, handed it to -him, declined his offer of a taxi, and walked unhappily by his side down -the hill that they had climbed so gaily two days before. Hugh had just -time to get her ticket before the train started. - -She paused a moment at the car steps and held out her hand. "Good-by, -Hugh," she said softly, her lips trembling, her eyes full of tears. - -"Good-by, Cynthia," he whispered. And then, foolishly, "Thanks for -coming." - -She did not smile but drew her hand from his and mounted the steps. An -instant later she was inside the car and the train was moving. - -Numbed and miserable, Hugh slowly climbed the hill and wandered back to -Norry Parker's room. He was glad that Norry wasn't there. He paced up -and down the room a few minutes trying to think. Then he threw himself -despairingly on a couch, face down. He wanted to cry; he had never -wanted so much to cry--and he couldn't. There were no tears--and he had -lost something very precious. He thought it was love; it was only his -dreams. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -For several days Hugh was tortured by doubt and indecision: there were -times when he thought that he loved Cynthia, times when he was sure that -he didn't; when he had just about made up his mind that he hated her, he -found himself planning to follow her to New Rochelle; he tried to -persuade himself that his conduct was no more reprehensible than that of -his comrades, but shame invariably overwhelmed his arguments; there were -hours when he ached for Cynthia, and hours when he loathed her for -smashing something that had been beautiful. Most of all, he wanted -comfort, advice, but he knew no one to whom he was willing to give his -confidence. Somehow, he couldn't admit his drunkenness to any one whose -advice he valued. He called on Professor Henley twice, intending to make -a clean breast of his transgressions. Henley, he knew, would not lecture -him, but when he found himself facing him, he could not bring himself to -confession; he was afraid of losing Henley's respect. - -Finally, in desperation, he talked to Norry, not because he thought -Norry could help him but because he had to talk to somebody and Norry -already knew the worst. They went walking far out into the country, idly -discussing campus gossip or pausing to revel in the beauty of the night, -the clear, clean sky, the pale moon, the fireflies sparkling suddenly -over the meadows or even to the tree-tops. Weary from their long walk, -they sat down on a stump, and Hugh let the dam of his emotion break. - -"Norry," he began intensely, "I'm in hell--in hell. It's a week since -Prom, and I haven't had a line from Cynthia. I haven't dared write to -her." - -"Why not?" - -"She--she--oh, damn it!--she told me before she left that everything was -all off. That's why she left early. She said that we didn't love each -other, that all we felt was sex attraction. I don't know whether she's -right or not, but I miss her like the devil. I--I feel empty, sort of -hollow inside, as if everything had suddenly been poured out of me--and -there's nothing to take its place. I was full of Cynthia, you see, and -now there's no Cynthia. There's nothing left but--oh, God, Norry, I'm -ashamed of myself. I feel--dirty." The last word was hardly audible. - -Norry touched his arm. "I know, Hugh, and I'm awfully sorry. I think, -though, that Cynthia was right. I know her better than you do. She's an -awfully good kid but not your kind at all; I think I feel as badly -almost as you do about it." He paused a moment and then said simply, "I -was so proud of you, Hugh." - -"Don't!" Hugh exclaimed. "I want to kill myself when you say things like -that." - -"You don't understand. I know that you don't understand. I've been doing -a lot of thinking since Prom, too. I've thought over a lot of things -that you've said to me--about me, I mean. Why, Hugh, you think I'm not -human. I don't believe you think I have passions like the rest of you. -Well, I do, and sometimes it's--it's awful. I'm telling you that so -you'll understand that I know how you feel. But love's beautiful to me, -Hugh, the most wonderful thing in the world. I was in love with a girl -once--and I know. She didn't give a hang for me; she thought I was a -baby. I suffered awfully; but I know that my love was beautiful, as -beautiful as--" He looked around for a simile--"as to-night. I think -it's because of that that I hate mugging and petting and that sort of -thing. I don't want beauty debased. I want to fight when orchestras jazz -famous arias. Well, petting is jazzing love; and I hate it. Do you see -what I mean?" - -Hugh looked at him wonderingly. He didn't know this Norry at all. "Yes," -he said slowly; "yes, I see what you mean; I think I do, anyway. But -what has it to do with me?" - -"Well, I know most of the fellows pet and all that sort of thing, and -they don't think anything about it. But you're different; you love -beautiful things as much as I do. You told me yourself that Jimmie -Henley said last year that you were gifted. You can write and sing and -run, but I've just realized that you aren't proud of those things at -all; you just take them for granted. And you're ashamed that you write -poetry. Some of your poems are good, but you haven't sent any of them to -the poetry magazine. You don't want anybody to know that you write -poetry. You're trying to make yourself like fellows that are inferior to -you." Norry was piteously in earnest. His hero had crumbled into clay -before his eyes, and he was trying to patch him together again -preparatory to boosting him back upon his pedestal. - -"Oh, cripes, Norry," Hugh said a little impatiently, "you exaggerate all -my virtues; you always have. I'm not half the fellow you think I am. I -do love beautiful things, but I don't believe my poetry is any good." He -paused a moment and then confessed mournfully: "I'll admit, though, that -I have been going downhill. I'm going to do better from now on. You -watch me." - -They talked for hours, Norry embarrassing Hugh with the frankness of -his admiration. Norry's hero-worship had always embarrassed him, but he -didn't like it when the worshiper began to criticize. He admitted the -justness of the criticism, but it hurt him just the same. Perching on a -pedestal had been uncomfortable but a little thrilling; sitting on the -ground and gazing up at his perch was rather humiliating. The fall had -bruised him; and Norry, with the best intentions in the world, was -kicking the bruises. - -Nevertheless, he felt better after the talk, determined to win back -Norry's esteem and his own. He swore off smoking and drinking and stuck -to his oath. He told Vinton that if he brought any more liquor to their -room one of them was going to be carried out, and that he had a hunch -that it would be Vinton. Vinton gazed at him with round eyes and -believed him. After that he did his drinking elsewhere, confiding to his -cronies that Carver was on the wagon and that he had got as religious as -holy hell. "He won't let me drink in my own room," he wailed dolorously. -And then with a sudden burst of clairvoyance, he added, "I guess his -girl has given him the gate." - -For weeks the campus buzzed with talk about the Prom. A dozen men who -had been detected _flagrante delicto_ were summarily expelled. Many -others who had been equally guilty were in a constant state of mental -goose-flesh. Would the next mail bring a summons from the dean? -President Culver spoke sternly in chapel and hinted that there would be -no Prom the coming year. Most of the men said that the Prom had been an -"awful brawl," but there were some who insisted that it was no worse -than the Proms held at other colleges, and recited startling tales in -support of their argument. - -Leonard Gates finally settled the whole matter for Hugh. There had been -many discussions in the Nu Delta living-room about the Prom, and in one -of them Gates ended the argument with a sane and thoughtful statement. - -"The Prom was a brawl," he said seriously, "a drunken brawl. We all -admit that. The fact that Proms at other colleges are brawls, too, -doesn't make ours any more respectable. If a Yale man happens to commit -murder and gets away with it, that is no reason that a Harvard man or a -Sanford man should commit murder, too. Some of you are arguing like -babies. But some of you are going to the other extreme. - -"You talk as if everybody at the Prom was lit. Well, I wasn't lit, and -as a matter of fact most of them weren't lit. Just use a little common -sense. There were three hundred and fifty couples at the Prom. Now, not -half of them even had a drink. Say that half did. That makes one hundred -and seventy-five fellows. If fifty of those fellows were really soused, -I'll eat my hat, but we'll say that there were fifty. Fifty were quite -enough to make the whole Prom look like a longshoreman's ball. You've -got to take the music into consideration, too. That orchestra could -certainly play jazz; it could play it too damn well. Why, that music was -enough to make a saint shed his halo and shake a shimmy. - -"What I'm getting to is this: there are over a thousand fellows in -college, and out of that thousand not more than fifty were really soused -at the Prom, and not more than a hundred and seventy-five were even a -little teed. To go around saying that Sanford men are a lot of muckers -just because a small fraction of them acted like gutter-pups is sheer -bunk. The Prom was a drunken brawl, but all Sanford men aren't -drunkards--not by a damn sight." - -Hugh had to admit the force of Gates's reasoning, and he found comfort -in it. He had been just about ready to believe that all college men and -Sanford men in particular were hardly better than common muckers. But in -the end the comfort that he got was small: he realized bitterly that he -was one of the minority that had disgraced his college; he was one of -the gutter-pups. The recognition of that undeniable fact cut deep. - -He was determined to redeem himself; he _had_ to, somehow. Living a life -of perfect rectitude was not enough; he had to do something that would -win back his own respect and the respect of his fellows, which he -thought, quite absurdly, that he had forfeited. So far as he could see, -there was only one way that he could justify his existence at Sanford; -that was to win one of the dashes in the Sanford-Raleigh meet. He clung -to that idea with the tenacity of a fanatic. - -He had nearly a month in which to train, and train he did as he never -had before. His diet became a matter of the utmost importance; a -rub-down was a holy rite, and the words of Jansen, the coach, divine -gospel. He placed in both of the preliminary meets, but he knew that he -could do better; he wasn't yet in condition. - -When the day for the Raleigh-Sanford meet finally came, he did not feel -any of the nervousness that had spelled defeat for him in his freshman -year. He was stonily calm, silently determined. He was going to place in -the hundred and win the two-twenty or die in the attempt. No golden -dreams of breaking records excited him. Calvert of Raleigh was running -the hundred consistently in ten seconds and had been credited with -better time. Hugh had no hopes of defeating him in the hundred, but -there was a chance in the two-twenty. Calvert was a short-distance man, -the shorter the better. Two hundred and twenty yards was a little too -far for him. - -Calvert did not look like a runner. He was a good two inches shorter -than Hugh, who lacked nearly that much of six feet. Calvert was heavily -built--a dark, brawny chap, both quick and powerful. Hugh looked at him -and for a moment hated him. Although he did not phrase it so--in fact, -he did not phrase it at all--Calvert was his obstacle in his race for -redemption. - -Calvert won the hundred-yard dash in ten seconds flat, breaking the -Sanford-Raleigh record. Hugh, running faster than he ever had in his -life, barely managed to come in second ahead of his team-mate Murphy. -The Sanford men cheered him lustily, but he hardly listened. He _had_ to -win the two-twenty. - -At last the runners were called to the starting-line. They danced up and -down the track flexing their muscles. Hugh was tense but more determined -than nervous. Calvert pranced around easily; he seemed entirely -recovered from his great effort in the hundred. Finally the starter -called them to their marks. They tried their spikes in the -starting-holes, scraped them out a bit more, made a few trial dashes, -and finally knelt in line at the command of the starter. - -Hugh expected Calvert to lead for the first hundred yards; but the last -hundred, that was where Calvert would weaken. Calvert was sure to be -ahead at the beginning--but after that! - -"On your marks. - -"Set." - -The pistol cracked. The start was perfect; the five men leaped forward -almost exactly together. For once Calvert had not beaten the others off -the mark, but he immediately drew ahead. He was running powerfully, his -legs rising and falling in exact rhythm, his spikes tearing into the -cinder path. But Hugh and Murphy were pressing him close. At the end of -the first hundred Calvert led by a yard. Hugh pounded on, Murphy falling -behind him. The others were hopelessly outclassed. Hugh did not think; -he did not hear a thousand men shouting hysterically, "Carver! Carver!" -He saw nothing but Calvert a yard ahead of him. He knew nothing but that -he had to make up that yard. Down the track they sped, their breath -bursting from them, their hands clenched, their faces grotesquely -distorted, their legs driving them splendidly on. - -Hugh was gaining; that yard was closing. He sensed it rather than saw -it. He saw nothing now, not even Calvert. Blinded with effort, his lungs -aching, his heart pounding terribly, he fought on, mechanically keeping -between the two white lines. Ten yards from the tape he was almost -abreast of Calvert. He saw the tape through a red haze; he made a final -valiant leap for it--but he never touched it: Calvert's chest had -broken it a tiny fraction of a second before. - -Hugh almost collapsed after the race. Two men caught him and carried -him, despite his protests, to the dressing-room. At first he was aware -only of his overwhelming weariness. Something very important had -happened. It was over, and he was tired, infinitely tired. A rub-down -refreshed his muscles, but his spirit remained weary. For a month he had -thought of nothing but that race--even Cynthia had become strangely -insignificant in comparison with it--and now that the race had been run -and lost, his whole spirit sagged and drooped. - -He was pounded on the back; his hand was grasped and shaken until it -ached; he was cheered to an echo by the thrilled Sanford men; but still -his depression remained. He had won his letter, he had run a magnificent -race, all Sanford sang his praise--Norry Parker had actually cried with -excitement and delight--but he felt that he had failed; he had not -justified himself. - -A few days later he entered Henley's office, intending to make only a -brief visit. Henley congratulated him. "You were wonderful, Hugh," he -said enthusiastically. "The way that you crawled up on him the last -hundred yards was thrilling. I shouted until I was hoarse. I never saw -any one fight more gamely. He's a faster man than you are, but you -almost beat him. I congratulate you--excuse the word, please--on your -guts." - -Somehow Hugh couldn't stand Henley's enthusiasm. Suddenly he blurted out -the whole story, his drunkenness at the Prom, his split with Cynthia--he -did not mention the visit to Norry's room--his determination to redeem -himself, his feeling that if he had won that race he would at least have -justified his existence at the college, and, finally, his sense of -failure. - -Henley listened sympathetically, amused and touched by the boy's naive -philosophy. He did not tell him that the race was relatively -unimportant--he was sure that Hugh would find that out for himself--but -he did bring him comfort. - -"You did not fail, Hugh," he said gently; "you succeeded magnificently. -As for serving your college, you can always serve it best by being -yourself, being true to yourself, I mean, and that means being the very -fine gentleman that you are." He paused a minute, aware that he must be -less personal; Hugh was red to the hair and gazing unhappily at the -floor. - -"You must read Browning," he went on, "and learn about his -success-in-failure philosophy. He maintains that it is better to strive -for a million and miss it than to strive for a hundred and get it. 'A -man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?' He says it -in a dozen different ways. It's the man who tries bravely for something -beyond his power that gets somewhere, the man who really succeeds. Well, -you tried for something beyond your power--to beat Calvert, a really -great runner. You tried to your utmost; therefore, you succeeded. I -admire your sense of failure; it means that you recognize an ideal. But -I think that you succeeded. You may not have quite justified yourself to -yourself, but you have proved capable of enduring a hard test bravely. -You have no reason to be depressed, no reason to be ashamed." - -They talked for a long time, and finally Henley confessed that he -thought Cynthia had been wise in taking herself out of Hugh's life. - -"I can see," he said, "that you aren't telling me quite all the story. I -don't want you to, either. I judge, however, from what you have said -that you went somewhere with her and that only complete drunkenness -saved you from disgracing both yourself and her. You need no lecture, I -am sure; you are sufficiently contrite. I have a feeling that she was -right about sexual attraction being paramount; and I think that she is a -very brave girl. I like the way she went home, and I like the way she -has kept silent. Not many girls could or would do that. It takes -courage. From what you have said, however, I imagine that she is not -your kind; at least, that she isn't the kind that is good for you. You -have suffered and are suffering, I know, but I am sure that some day you -are going to be very grateful to that girl--for a good many reasons." - -Hugh felt better after that talk, and the end of the term brought him a -surprise that wiped out his depression and his sense of failure. He -found, too, that his pain was growing less; the wound was healing. -Perversely, he hated it for healing, and he poked it viciously to feel -it throb. Agony had become sweet. It made life more intense, less -beautiful, perhaps, but more wonderful, more real. Romantically, too, he -felt that he must be true both to his love and to his sorrow, and his -love was fading into a memory that was plaintively gray but shot with -scarlet thrills--and his sorrow was bowing before the relentless -excitement of his daily life. - -The surprise that rehabilitated him in his own respect was his election -to the Boulé, the senior council and governing board of the student -body. It was the greatest honor that an undergraduate could receive, and -Hugh had in no way expected it. When Nu Delta had first suggested to him -that he be a candidate, he had demurred, saying that there were other -men in his delegation better fitted to serve and with better chances of -election. Leonard Gates, however, felt otherwise; and before Hugh knew -what had happened he was a candidate along with thirty other juniors, -only twelve of whom could be elected. - -He took no part in the campaigning, attended none of the caucuses, was -hardly interested in the fraternity "combine" that promised to elect -him. He did not believe that he could be elected; he saw no reason why -he should be. As a matter of fact, as Gates and others well knew, his -chances were more than good. Hugh was popular in his own right, and his -great race in the Sanford-Raleigh meet had made him something of a hero -for the time being. Furthermore, he was a member of both the Glee and -Banjo Clubs, he had led his class in the spring sings for three years, -and he had a respectable record in his studies. - -The tapping took place in chapel the last week of classes. After the -first hymn, the retiring members of the Boulé rose and marched down the -aisle to where the juniors were sitting. The new members were tapped in -the order of the number of votes that they had received, and the first -man tapped, having received the largest number of votes, automatically -became president of the Boulé for the coming year. - -Hugh's interest naturally picked up the day of the election, and he -began to have faint hopes that he would be the tenth or eleventh man. To -his enormous surprise he was tapped third, and he marched down the -aisle to the front seat reserved for the new members with the applause -of his fellows sweet in his ears. It didn't seem possible; he was one of -the most popular and most respected men in his class. He could not -understand it, but he didn't particularly care to understand it; the -honor was enough. - -Nu Delta tried to heap further honors on him, but he declined them. As a -member of Boulé he was naturally nominated for the presidency of the -chapter. Quite properly, he felt that he was not fitted for such a -position; and he retired in favor of John Lawrence, the only man in his -delegation really capable of controlling the brothers. Lawrence was a -man like Gates. He would, Hugh knew, carry on the constructive work that -Gates had so splendidly started. Nu Delta was in the throes of one of -those changes so characteristic of fraternities. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -Hugh spent his last college vacation at home, working on the farm, -reading, occasionally dancing at Corley Lake, and thinking a great deal. -He saw Janet Harton, now Janet Moffitt, several times at the lake and -wondered how he could ever have adored her. She was still childlike, -still dainty and pretty, but to Hugh she was merely a talking doll, and -he felt a little sorry for her burly, rather stupid husband who lumbered -about after her like a protecting watch-dog. - -He met plenty of pretty girls at the lake, but, as he said, he was "off -women for good." He was afraid of them; he had been severely burnt, and -while the fire still fascinated him, it frightened him, too. Women, he -was sure, were shallow creatures, dangerous to a man's peace of mind and -self-respect. They were all right to dance with and pet a bit; but that -was all, absolutely all. - -He thought a lot about girls that summer and even more about his life -after graduation from college. What was he going to do? Life stretched -ahead of him for one year like a smooth, flowered plain--and then the -abyss. He felt prepared to do nothing at all, and he was not swept by an -overpowering desire to do anything in particular. Writing had the -greatest appeal for him, but he doubted his ability. Teach? Perhaps. But -teaching meant graduate work. Well, he would see what the next year at -college would show. He was going to take a course in composition with -Professor Henley, and if Henley thought his gifts warranted it, he would -ask his father for a year or two of graduate work at Harvard. - -College was pleasant that last year. It was pleasant to wear a blue -sweater with an orange S on it; it was pleasant, too, to wear a small -white hat that had a blue B on the crown, the insignia of the Boulé and -a sign that he was a person to be respected and obeyed; it was pleasant -to be spoken to by the professors as one who had reached something -approaching manhood; life generally was pleasant, not so exciting as the -three preceding years but fuller and richer. Early in the first term he -was elected to Helmer, an honor society that possessed a granite "tomb," -a small windowless building in which the members were supposed to -discuss questions of great importance and practice secret rites of -awe-inspiring wonder. As a matter of fact, the monthly meetings were -nothing but "bull fests," or as one cynical member put it, "We wear a -gold helmet on our sweaters and chew the fat once a month." True -enough, but that gold helmet glittered enticingly in the eyes of every -student who did not possess one. - -For the first time Hugh's studies meant more to him than the -undergraduate life. He had chosen his instructors carefully, having -learned from three years of experience that the instructor was far more -important than the title of the course. He had three classes in -literature, one in music--partly because it was a "snap" and partly -because he really wanted to know more about music--and his composition -course with Henley, to him the most important of the lot. - -He really studied, and at the end of the first term received three A's -and two B's, a very creditable record. What was more important than his -record, however, was the fact that he was really enjoying his work; he -was intellectually awakened and hungry for learning. - -Also, for the first time he really enjoyed the fraternity. Jack Lawrence -was proving an able president, and Nu Delta pledged a freshman -delegation of which Hugh was genuinely proud. There were plenty of men -in the chapter whom he did not like or toward whom he was indifferent, -but he had learned to ignore them and center his interest in those men -whom he found congenial. - -The first term was ideal, but the second became a maelstrom of doubt and -trouble in which he whirled madly around trying to find some philosophy -that would solve his difficulties. - -When Norry returned to college after the Christmas vacation, he told -Hugh that he had seen Cynthia. Naturally, Hugh was interested, and the -mere mention of Cynthia's name was still enough to quicken his pulse. - -"How did she look?" he asked eagerly. - -"Awful." - -"What! What's the matter? Is she sick?" - -Norry shook his head. "No, I don't think she is exactly sick," he said -gravely, "but something is the matter with her. You know, she has been -going an awful pace, tearing around like crazy. I told you that, I know, -when I came back in the fall. Well, she's kept it up, and I guess she's -about all in. I couldn't understand it. Cynthia's always run with a fast -bunch, but she's never had a bad name. She's beginning to get one now." - -"No!" Hugh was honestly troubled. "What's the matter, anyway? Didn't you -try to stop her?" - -Norry smiled. "Of course not. Can you imagine me stopping Cynthia from -doing anything she wanted to do? But I did have a talk with her. She got -hold of me one night at the country club and pulled me off in a corner. -She wanted to talk about you." - -"Me?" Hugh's heart was beginning to pound. "What did she say?" - -"She asked questions. She wanted to know everything about you. I guess -she asked me a thousand questions. She wanted to know how you looked, -how you were doing in your courses, where you were during vacation, if -you had a girl--oh, everything; and finally she asked if you ever talked -about her?" - -"What did you say?" Hugh demanded breathlessly. - -"I told her yes, of course. Gee, Hugh, I thought she was going to cry. -We talked some more, all about you. She's crazy about you, Hugh; I'm -sure of it. And I think that's why she's been hitting the high spots. I -felt sorry as the devil for her. Poor kid...." - -"Gee, that's tough; that's damn tough. Did she send me any message?" - -"No. I asked her if she wanted to send her love or anything, and she -said she guessed not. I think she's having an awful time, Hugh." - -That talk tore Hugh's peace of mind into quivering shreds. Cynthia was -with him every waking minute, and with her a sense of guilt that would -not down. He knew that if he wrote to her he might involve himself in a -very difficult situation, but the temptation was stronger than his -discretion. He wanted to know if Norry was right, and he knew that he -would never have an hour's real comfort until he found out. Cynthia had -told him that she was not in love with him; she had said definitely -that their attraction for each other was merely sexual. Had she lied to -him? Had she gone home in the middle of Prom, week because she thought -she ought to save him from herself? He couldn't decide, and he felt that -he had to know. If Cynthia was unhappy and he was the cause of her -unhappiness, he wanted, he assured himself, to "do the right thing," and -he had very vague notions indeed of what the right thing might be. - -Finally he wrote to her. The letter took him hours to write, but he -flattered himself that it was very discreet; it implied nothing and -demanded nothing. - - - Dear Cynthia: - - I had a talk with Norry Parker recently that has - troubled me a great deal. He said that you seemed both - unwell and unhappy, and he felt that I was in some way - responsible for your depression. Of course, we both know - how ingenuous and romantic Norry is; he can find tragedy - in a cut finger. I recognize that fact, but what he told - me has given me no end of worry just the same. - - Won't you please write to me just what is wrong--if - anything really is and if I have anything to do with it. - I shall continue to worry until I get your letter. - - Most sincerely, - HUGH. - - -Weeks went by and no answer came. Hugh's confusion increased. He -thought of writing her another letter, but pride and common sense -forbade. Then her letter came, and all of his props were kicked suddenly -from under him. - - - Oh my dear, my dear [she wrote], I swore that I wouldn't - answer your letter--and here I am doing it. I've fought - and fought, and fought until I can't fight any longer; - I've held out as long as I can. Oh, Hugh my dearest, I - love you. I can't help it--I do, I do. I've tried so - hard not to--and when I found that I couldn't help it I - swore that I would never let you know--because I knew - that you didn't love me and that I am bad for you. I - thought I loved you enough to give you up--and I might - have succeeded if you hadn't written to me. - - Oh, Hugh dearest, I nearly fainted when I saw your - letter. I hardly dared open it--I just looked and looked - at your beloved handwriting. I cried when I did read it. - I thought of the letters you used to write to me--and - this one was so different--so cold and impersonal. It - hurt me dreadfully. - - I said that I wouldn't answer it--I swore that I - wouldn't. And then I read your old letters--I've kept - every one of them--and looked at your picture--and - to-night you just seemed to be here--I could see your - sweet smile and feel your dear arms around me--and Hugh, - my darling, I had to write--I _had_ to. - - My pride is all gone. I can't think any more. You are - all that matters. Oh, Hugh dearest, I love you so damned - hard. - - CYNTHIA. - - -Two hours after the letter arrived it was followed by a telegram: - - - Don't pay any attention to my letter. I was crazy when I - wrote it. - - -Hugh had sense enough to pay no attention to the telegram; he tossed it -into the fireplace and reread the letter. What could he do? What -_should_ he do? He was torn by doubt and confusion. He looked at her -picture, and all his old longing for her returned. But he had learned to -distrust that longing. He had got along for a year without her; he had -almost ceased thinking of her when Norry brought her back to his mind. -He had to answer her letter. What could he say? He paced the floor of -his room, ran his hands through his hair, pounded his forehead; but no -solution came. He took a long walk into the country and came back more -confused than ever. He was flattered by her letter, moved by it; he -tried to persuade himself that he loved her as she loved him--and he -could not do it. His passion for her was no longer overpowering, and no -amount of thinking could make it so. In the end he temporized. His -letter was brief. - - - Dear Cynthia: - - There is no need, I guess, to tell you that your letter - swept me clean off my feet. I am still dizzy with - confusion. I don't know what to say, and I have decided - that it is best for me not to say anything until I know - my own mind. I couldn't be fair either to you or myself - otherwise. And I want to be fair; I must be. - - Give me time, please. It is because I care so much for - you that I ask it. Don't worry if you don't hear from me - for weeks. My silence won't mean that I have forgotten - you; it will mean that I am thinking of you. - - Sincerely, - HUGH. - - -Her answer came promptly: - - - Hugh, my dear-- - - I was a fish to write that letter--and I know that I'll - never forgive myself. But I couldn't help it--I just - couldn't help it. I am glad that you are keeping your - head because I've lost mine entirely. Take all the time - you like. Do you hate me for losing my pride? I do. - - Your stupid - CYNTHIA. - - -Weeks went by, and Hugh found no solution. He damned college with all -his heart and soul. What good had it done him anyway? Here he was with a -serious problem on his hands and he couldn't solve it any better than he -could have when he was a freshman. Four years of studying and lectures -and examinations, and the first time he bucked up against a bit of life -he was licked. - -Eventually he wrote to her and told her that he was fonder of her than -he was of any girl that he had ever known but that he didn't know -whether he was in love with her or not. "I have learned to distrust my -own emotions," he wrote, "and my own decisions. The more I think the -more bewildered I become. I am afraid to ask you to marry me for fear -that I'll wreck both our lives, and I'm afraid not to ask you for the -same reason. Do you think that time will solve our problem? I don't -know. I don't know anything." - -She replied that she was willing to wait just so long as they continued -to correspond; she said that she could no longer bear not to hear from -him. So they wrote to each other, and the tangle of their relations -became more hopelessly knotted. Cynthia never sent another letter so -unguarded as her first, but she made no pretense of hiding her love. - -As Hugh sank deeper and deeper into the bog of confusion and distress, -his contempt for his college "education" increased. One night in May he -expressed that contempt to a small group of seniors. - -"College is bunk," said Hugh sternly, "pure bunk. They tell us that we -learn to think. Rot! I haven't learned to think; a child can solve a -simple human problem as well as I can. College has played hell with me. -I came here four years ago a darned nice kid, if I do say so myself. I -was chock-full of ideals and illusions. Well, college has smashed most -of those ideals and knocked the illusions plumb to hell. I thought, for -example, that all college men were gentlemen; well, most of them aren't. -I thought that all of them were intelligent and hard students." - -The group broke into loud laughter. "Me, too," said George Winsor when -the noise had abated. "I thought that I was coming to a regular -educational heaven, halls of learning and all that sort of thing. Why, -it's a farce. Here I am sporting a Phi Bete key, an honor student if you -please, and all that I really know as a result of my college 'education' -is the fine points of football and how to play poker. I don't really -know one damn thing about anything." - -The other men were Jack Lawrence and Pudge Jamieson. Jack was an earnest -chap, serious and hard working but without a trace of brilliance. He, -too, wore a Phi Beta Kappa key, and so did Pudge. Hugh was the only one -of the group who had not won that honor; the fact that he was the only -one who had won a letter was hardly, he felt, complete justification. -His legs no longer seemed more important than his brains; in fact, when -he had sprained a tendon and been forced to drop track, he had been -genuinely pleased. - -Pudge was quite as plump as he had been as a freshman and quite as -jovial, but he did not tell so many smutty stories. He still persisted -in crossing his knees in spite of the difficulties involved. When -Winsor finished speaking, Pudge forced his legs into his favorite -position for them and then twinkled at Winsor through his glasses. - -"Right you are, George," he said in his quick way. "I wear a Phi Bete -key, too. We both belong to the world's greatest intellectual -fraternity, but what in hell do we know? We've all majored in English -except Jack, and I'll bet any one of us can give the others an exam -offhand that they can't pass. I'm going to law school. I hope to God -that I learn something there. I certainly don't feel that I know -anything now as a result of my four years of 'higher education.'" - -"Well, if you fellows feel that way," said Hugh mournfully, "how do you -suppose I feel? I made my first really good record last term, and that -wasn't any world beater. I've learned how to gamble and smoke and drink -and pet in college, but that's about all that I have learned. I'm not as -fine as I was when I came here. I've been coarsened and cheapened; all -of us have. I take things for granted that shocked me horribly once. I -know that they ought to shock me now, but they don't. I've made some -friends and I've had a wonderful time, but I certainly don't feel that I -have got any other value out of college." - -Winsor could not sit still and talk. He filled his pipe viciously, -lighted it, and then jumped up and leaned against the mantel. "I admit -everything that's been said, but I don't believe that it is altogether -our fault." He was intensely in earnest, and so were his listeners. -"Look at the faculty. When I came here I thought that they were all wise -men because they were On the faculty. Well, I've found out otherwise. -Some of them know a lot and can't teach, a few of them know a lot and -can teach, some of them know a little and can't teach, and some of them -don't know anything and can't explain c-a-t. Why, look at Kempton. That -freshman, Larson, showed me a theme the other day that Kempton had -corrected. It was full of errors that weren't marked, and it was nothing -in the world but drip. Even Larson knew that, but he's the foxy kid; he -wrote the theme about Kempton. All right--Kempton gives him a B and -tells him that it is very amusing. Hell of a lot Larson's learning. Look -at Kane in math. I had him when I was a freshman." - -"Me, too," Hugh chimed in. - -"'Nough said, then. Math's dry enough, God knows, but Kane makes it -dryer. He's a born desiccator. He could make 'Hamlet' as dry as -calculus." - -"Right-o," said Pudge. "But Mitchell could make calculus as exciting as -'Hamlet.' It's fifty-fifty." - -"And they fired Mitchell." Jack Lawrence spoke for the first time. "I -have that straight. The administration seems afraid of a man that can -teach. They've made Buchanan a full professor, and there isn't a man in -college who can tell what he's talking about. He's written a couple of -books that nobody reads, and that makes him a scholar. I was forced to -take three courses with him. They were agony, and he never taught me a -damn thing." - -"Most of them don't teach you a damn thing," Winsor exclaimed, tapping -his pipe on the mantel. "They either tell you something that you can -find more easily in a book, or just confuse you with a lot of ponderous -lectures that put you to sleep or drive you crazy if you try to -understand them." - -"There are just about a dozen men in this college worth listening to," -Hugh put in, "and I've got three of them this term. I'm learning more -than I did in my whole three first years. Let's be fair, though. We're -blaming it all on the profs, and you know damn well that we don't study. -All we try to do is to get by--I don't mean you Phi Betes; I mean all -the rest of us--and if we can put anything over on the profs we are -tickled pink. We're like a lot of little kids in grammar-school. Just -look at the cheating that goes on, the copying of themes, and the -cribbing. It's rotten!" - -Winsor started to protest, but Hugh rushed on. "Oh, I know that the -majority of the fellows don't consciously cheat; I'm talking about the -copying of math problems and the using of trots and the paraphrasing of -'Literary Digest' articles for themes and all that sort of thing. If -more than half of the fellows don't do that sort of thing some time or -other in college, I'll eat my hat. And we all know darned well that we -aren't supposed to do it, but the majority of fellows cheat in some way -or other before they graduate! - -"We aren't so much. Do you remember, George, what Jimmie Henley said to -us when we were sophomores in English Thirty-six? He laid us out cold, -said that we were as standardized as Fords and that we were ashamed of -anything intellectual. Well, he was right. Do you remember how he ended -by saying that if we were the cream of the earth, he felt sorry for the -skimmed milk--or something like that?" - -"Sure, _I_ remember," Winsor replied, running his fingers through his -rusty hair. "He certainly pulled a heavy line that day. He was right, -too." - -"I'll tell you what," exclaimed Pudge suddenly, so suddenly that his -crossed legs parted company and his foot fell heavily to the floor. -"Let's put it up to Henley in class to-morrow. Let's ask him straight -out if he thinks college is worth while." - -"He'll hedge," objected Lawrence. "All the profs do if you ask them -anything like that." Winsor laughed. "You don't know Jimmie Henley. He -won't hedge. You've never had a class with him, but Hugh and Pudge and -I are all in English Fifty-three, and we'll put it up to him. He'll tell -us what he thinks all right, and I hope to God that he says it is worth -while. I'd like to have somebody convince me that I've got something out -of these four years beside lower ideals. Hell, sometimes I think that -we're all damn fools. We worship athletics--no offense, Hugh--above -everything else; we gamble and drink and talk like bums; and about every -so often some fellow has to go home because a lovely lady has left him -with bitter, bitter memories. I'm with Henley. If we're the cream of the -earth--well, thank the Lord, we're not." - -"Who is," Lawrence asked earnestly. - -"God knows." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -English 53 had only a dozen men in it; so Henley conducted the course in -a very informal fashion. The men felt free to bring up for discussion -any topic that interested them. - -Nobody was surprised, therefore, when George Winsor asked Henley to -express his opinion of the value of a college education. He reminded -Henley of what he had said two years before, and rapidly gave a resumé -of the discussion that resulted in the question he was asking. "We'd -like to know, too," he concluded, grinning wickedly, "just whom you -consider the cream of the earth. You remember you said that if we were -you felt sorry for the skimmed milk." - -Henley leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Yes," he said, "I remember -saying that. I didn't think, though, that you would remember it for two -years. You seem to remember most of what I said. I am truly astonished." -He grinned back at Winsor. "The swine seem to have eaten the pearls." - -The class laughed, but Winsor was not one to refuse the gambit. "They -were very indigestible," he said quickly. - -"Good!" Henley exclaimed. "I wanted them to give you a belly-ache, and I -am delighted that you still suffer." - -"We do," Pudge Jamieson admitted, "but we'd like to have a little mercy -shown to us now. We've spent four years here, and while we've enjoyed -them, we've just about made up our minds that they have been all in all -wasted years." - -"No." Henley was decisive. His playful manner entirely disappeared. "No, -not wasted. You have enjoyed them, you say. Splendid justification. You -will continue to enjoy them as the years grow between you and your -college days. All men are sentimental about college, and in that -sentimentality there is continuous pleasure." - -"Your doubt delights me. Your feeling that you haven't learned anything -delights me, too. It proves that you have learned a great deal. It is -only the ignoramus who thinks he is wise; the wise man knows that he is -an ignoramus. That's a platitude, but it is none the less true. I have -cold comfort for you: the more you learn, the less confident you will be -of your own learning, the more utterly ignorant you will feel. I have -never known so much as, the day I graduated from high school. I held my -diploma and the knowledge of the ages in my hand. I had never heard of -Socrates, but I would have challenged him to a debate without the -slightest fear." - -"Since then I have grown more humble, so humble that there are times -when I am ashamed to come into the class-room. What right have I to -teach anybody anything? I mean that quite sincerely. Then I remember -that, ignorant as I am, the undergraduates are more ignorant. I take -heart and mount the rostrum ready to speak with the authority of a -pundit." - -He realized that he was sliding off on a tangent and paused to find a -new attack. Pudge Jamieson helped him. - -"I suppose that's all true," he said, "but it doesn't explain why -college is really worth while. The fact remains that most of us don't -learn anything, that we are coarsened by college, and that we--well, we -worship false gods." - -Henley nodded in agreement. "It would be hard to deny your assertions," -he acknowledged, "and I don't think that I am going to try to deny them. -Of course, men grow coarser while they are in college, but that doesn't -mean that they wouldn't grow coarser if they weren't in college. It -isn't college that coarsens a man and destroys his illusions; it is -life. Don't think that you can grow to manhood and retain your pretty -dreams. You have become disillusioned about college. In the next few -years you will suffer further disillusionment. That is the price of -living." - -"Every intelligent man with ideals eventually becomes a cynic. It is -inevitable. He has standards, and, granted that he is intelligent, he -cannot fail to see how far mankind falls below those standards. The -result is cynicism, and if he is truly intelligent, the cynicism is -kindly. Having learned that man is frail, he expects little of him; -therefore, if he judges at all, his judgment is tempered either with -humor or with mercy." - -The dozen boys were sprawled lazily in their chairs, their feet resting -on the rungs of the chairs before them, but their eyes were fastened -keenly on Henley. All that he was saying was of the greatest importance -to them. They found comfort in his words, but the comfort raised new -doubts, new problems. - -"How does that affect college?" Winsor asked. - -"It affects it very decidedly," Henley replied. "You haven't become true -cynics yet; you expect too much of college. You forget that the men who -run the college and the men who attend it are at best human beings, and -that means that very much cannot be expected of them. You do worship -false gods. I find hope in the fact that you recognize the stuff of -which your gods are made. I have great hopes for the American colleges, -not because I have any reason to believe that the faculties will become -wiser or that the administrations will lead the students to true gods; -not at all, but I do think that the students themselves will find a way. -They have already abandoned Mammon; at least, the most intelligent have, -and I begin to see signs of less adoration for athletics. Athletics, of -course, have their place, and some of the students are beginning to find -that place. Certainly the alumni haven't, and I don't believe that the -administrative officers have, either. Just so long as athletes advertise -the college, the administrations will coddle them. The undergraduates, -however, show signs of frowning on professionalism, and the stupid -athlete is rapidly losing his prestige. An athlete has to show something -more than brawn to be a hero among his fellows nowadays." - -He paused, and Pudge spoke up. "Perhaps you are right," he said, "but I -doubt it. Athletics are certainly far more important to us than anything -else, and the captain of the football team is always the biggest man in -college. But I don't care particularly about that. What I want to know -is how the colleges justify their existence. I don't see that you have -proved that they do." - -"No, I haven't," Henley admitted, "and I don't know that I can prove it. -Of course, the colleges aren't perfect, not by a long way, but as human -institutions go, I think they justify their existence. The four years -spent at college by an intelligent boy--please notice that I say -intelligent--are well spent indeed. They are gloriously worth while. You -said that you have had a wonderful time. Not so wonderful as you think. -It is a strange feeling that we have about our college years. We all -believe that they are years of unalloyed happiness, and the further we -leave them behind the more perfect they seem. As a matter of fact, few -undergraduates are truly happy. They are going through a period of storm -and stress; they are torn by _Weltschmerz_. Show me a nineteen-year-old -boy who is perfectly happy and you show me an idiot. I rarely get a -cheerful theme except from freshmen. Nine tenths of them are expressions -of deep concern and distress. A boy's college years are the years when -he finds out that life isn't what he thought it, and the finding out is -a painful experience. He discovers that he and his fellows are made of -very brittle clay: usually he loathes himself; often he loathes his -fellows. - -"College isn't the Elysium that it is painted in stories and novels, but -I feel sorry for any intelligent man who didn't have the opportunity to -go to college. There is something beautiful about one's college days, -something that one treasures all his life. As we grow older, we forget -the hours of storm and stress, the class-room humiliations, the terror -of examinations, the awful periods of doubt of God and man--we forget -everything but athletic victories, long discussions with friends, campus -sings, fraternity life, moonlight on the campus, and everything that is -romantic. The sting dies, and the beauty remains. - -"Why do men give large sums of money to their colleges when asked? -Because they want to help society? Not at all. The average man doesn't -even take that into consideration. He gives the money because he loves -his alma mater, because he has beautiful and tender memories of her. No, -colleges are far from perfect, tragically far from it, but any -institution that commands loyalty and love as colleges do cannot be -wholly imperfect. There is a virtue in a college that uninspired -administrative officers, stupid professors, and alumni with false ideals -cannot kill. At times I tremble for Sanford College; there are times -when I swear at it, but I never cease to love it." - -"If you feel that way about college, why did you say those things to us -two years ago?" Hugh asked. "Because they were true, all true. I was -talking about the undergraduates then, and I could have said much more -cutting things and still been on the safe side of the truth. There is, -however, another side, and that is what I am trying to give you -now--rather incoherently, I know." - -Hugh thought of Cynthia. "I suppose all that you say is true," he -admitted dubiously, "but I can't feel that college does what it should -for us. We are told that we are taught to think, but the minute we bump -up against a problem in living we are stumped just as badly as we were -when we are freshmen." - -"Oh, no, not at all. You solve problems every day that would have -stumped you hopelessly as a freshman. You think better than you did four -years ago, but no college, however perfect, can teach you all the -solutions of life. There are no nostrums or cure-alls that the colleges -can give for all the ills and sicknesses of life. You, I am afraid, will -have to doctor those yourself." - -"I see." Hugh didn't altogether see. Both college and life seemed more -complicated than he had thought them. "I am curious to know," he added, -"just whom you consider the cream of the earth. That expression has -stuck in my mind. I don't know why--but it has." - -Henley smiled. "Probably because it is such a very badly mixed metaphor. -Well, I consider the college man the cream of the earth." - -"What?" four of the men exclaimed, and all of them sat suddenly upright. - -"Yes--but let me explain. If I remember rightly, I said that if you were -the cream of the earth, I hoped that God would pity the skimmed milk. -Well, everything taken into consideration, I do think that you are the -cream of the earth; and I have no hope for the skimmed milk. Perhaps it -isn't wise for me to give public expression to my pessimism, but you -ought to be old enough to stand it." - -"The average college graduate is a pretty poor specimen, but all in all -he is just about the best we have. Please remember that I am talking in -averages. I know perfectly well that a great many brilliant men do not -come to college and that a great many stupid men do come, but the -colleges get a very fair percentage of the intelligent ones and a -comparatively small percentage of the stupid ones. In other words, to -play with my mixed metaphor a bit, the cream is very thin in places and -the skimmed milk has some very thick clots of cream, but in the end the -cream remains the cream and the milk the milk. Everything taken into -consideration, we get in the colleges the young men with the highest -ideals, the loftiest purpose." - -"You want to tell me that those ideals are low and the purpose -materialistic and selfish. I know it, but the average college graduate, -I repeat, has loftier ideals and is less materialistic than the average -man who has not gone to college. I wish that I could believe that the -college gives him those ideals. I can't, however. The colleges draw the -best that society has to offer; therefore, they graduate the best." - -"Oh, I don't know," a student interrupted. "How about Edison and Ford -and--" - -"And Shakspere and Sophocles," Henley concluded for him. "Edison is an -inventive genius, and Ford is a business genius. Genius hasn't anything -to do with schools. The colleges, however, could have made both Ford and -Edison bigger men, though they couldn't have made them lesser geniuses." - -"No, we must not take the exceptional man as a standard; we've got to -talk about the average. The hand of the Potter shook badly when he made -man. It was at best a careless job. But He made some better than others, -some a little less weak, a little more intelligent. All in all, those -are the men that come to college. The colleges ought to do a thousand -times more for those men than they do do; but, after all, they do -something for them, and I am optimistic enough to believe that the time -will come when they will do more." - -"Some day, perhaps," he concluded very seriously, "our administrative -officers will be true educators; some day perhaps our faculties will be -wise men really fitted to teach; some day perhaps our students will be -really students, eager to learn, honest searchers after beauty and -truth. That day will be the millennium. I look for the undergraduates to -lead us to it." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -The college year swept rapidly to its close, so rapidly to the seniors -that the days seemed to melt in their grasp. The twentieth of June would -bring them their diplomas and the end of their college life. They felt a -bit chesty at the thought of that B.S. or A.B., but a little sentimental -at the thought of leaving "old Sanford." - -Suddenly everything about the college became infinitely precious--every -tradition; every building, no matter how ugly; even the professors, not -just the deserving few--all of them. - -Hugh took to wandering about the campus, sometimes alone, thinking of -Cynthia, sometimes with a favored crony such as George Winsor or Pudge -Jamieson. He didn't see very much of Norry the last month or two of -college. He was just as fond of him as ever, but Norry was only a -junior; he would not understand how a fellow felt about Sanford when he -was on the verge of leaving her. But George and Pudge did understand. -The boys didn't say much as they wandered around the buildings, merely -strolled along, occasionally pausing to laugh over some experience that -had happened to one of them in the building they were passing. - -Hugh could never pass Surrey Hall without feeling something deeper than -sentimentality. He always thought of Carl Peters, from whom he had not -heard for more than a year. He understood Carl better now, his desire -to be a gentleman and his despair at ever succeeding. Surrey Hall held -drama for Hugh, not all of it pleasant, but he had a deeper affection -for the ivy-covered dormitory then he would ever have for the Nu Delta -House. He wondered what had become of Morse, the homesick freshman. -Poor Morse.... And the bull sessions he had sat in in old Surrey. He -had learned a lot from them, a whole lot.... - -The chapel where he had slept and surreptitiously eaten doughnuts and -read "The Sanford News" suddenly became a holy building, the building -that housed the soul of Sanford.... He knew that he was sentimental, that -he was investing buildings with a greater significance than they had in -their own right, but he continued to dream over the last four years and -to find a melancholy beauty in his own sentimentality. If it hadn't -been for Cynthia, he would have been perfectly happy. - -Soon the examinations were over, and the underclassmen began to -depart. Good-by to all his friends who were not seniors. Good-by to -Norry Parker. "Thanks for the congratulations, old man. Sorry I can't -visit you this summer. Can't you spend a month with me on the farm...?" -Good-by to his fraternity brothers except the few left in his own -delegation. "Good-by, old man, good-by.... Sure, I'll see you next year -at the reunion." Good-by.... Good-by.... - -Sad, this business of saying good-by, damn sad. Gee, how a fellow would -miss all the good old eggs he had walked with and drunk with and bulled -with these past years. Good eggs, all of them--damn good eggs.... God! -a fellow couldn't appreciate college until he was about to leave it. -Oh, for a chance to live those four years over again. "Would I live -them differently? I'll say I would." - -Good-by, boyhood.... Commencement was coming. Hugh hadn't thought -before of what that word meant. Commencement! The beginning. What was -he going to do with this commencement of his into life? Old Pudge was -going to law school and so was Jack Lawrence. George Winsor was going -to medical school. But what was he going to do? He felt so pathetically -unprepared. And then there was Cynthia.... What was he going to do -about her? She rarely left his mind. How could he tackle life when he -couldn't solve the problem she presented? It was like trying to run a -hundred against fast men when a fellow had only begun to train. - -Henley had advised him to take a year or so at Harvard if his father -proved willing, and his father was more than willing, even eager. He -guessed that he'd take at least a year in Cambridge. Perhaps he could -find himself in that year. Maybe he could learn to write. He hoped to -God he could. - - * * * * * - -Just before commencement his relations with Cynthia came to a climax. -They had been constantly becoming more complicated. She was demanding -nothing of him, but her letters were tinged with despair. He felt at -last that he must see her. Then he would know whether he loved her or -not. A year before she had said that he didn't. How did she know? She -had said that all he felt for her was sex attraction. How did she know -that? Why, she had said that was all that she felt for him. And he had -heard plenty of fellows argue that love was nothing but sexual -attraction anyway, and that all the stuff the poets wrote was pure bunk. -Freud said something like that, he thought, and Freud knew a damn sight -more about it than the poets. - -Yet, the doubt remained. Whether love was merely sexual attraction or -not, he wanted something more than that; his every instinct demanded -something more. He had noticed another thing: the fellows that weren't -engaged said that love was only sexual attraction; those who were -engaged vehemently denied it, and Hugh knew that some of the engaged -men had led gay lives in college. He could not reach any decision; at -times he was sure that what he felt for Cynthia was love; at other times -he was sure that it wasn't. - -At last in desperation he telegraphed to her that he was coming to New -York and that she should meet him at Grand Central at three o'clock the -next day. He knew that he oughtn't to go. He would be able to stay in -New York only a little more than two hours because his father and mother -would arrive in Haydensville the day following, and he felt that he had -to be there to greet them. He damned himself for his impetuousness all -during the long trip, and a dozen times he wished he were back safe in -the Nu Delta house. What in hell would he say to Cynthia, anyway? What -would he do when he saw her? Kiss her? "I won't have a damned bit of -sense left if I do." - -She was waiting for him as he came through the gate. Quite without -thinking, he put down his bag and kissed her. Her touch had its old -power; his blood leaped. With a tremendous effort of will he controlled -himself. That afternoon was all-important; he must keep his head. - -"It's sweet of you to come," Cynthia whispered, clinging to him, "so -damned sweet." - -"It's damned good to see you," he replied gruffly. "Come on while I -check this bag. I've only got a little over two hours, Cynthia; I've -got to get the five-ten back. My folks will be in Haydensville to-morrow -morning, and I've got to get back to meet them." - -Her face clouded for an instant, but she tucked her arm gaily in his and -marched with him across the rotunda to the checking counter. When Hugh -had disposed of his bag, he suggested that they go to a little tea room -on Fifty-seventh Street. She agreed without argument. Once they were in -a taxi, she wanted to snuggle down into his arm, but she restrained -herself; she felt that she had to play fair. - -Hugh said nothing. He was trying to think, and his thoughts whirled -around in a mad, drunken dance. He believed that he would be married -before he took the train back, at least engaged, and what would all that -mean? Did he want to get married? God! he didn't know. - -When at last they were settled in a corner of the empty tea-room and had -given their order, they talked in an embarrassed fashion about their -recent letters, both of them carefully quiet and restrained. Finally -Hugh shoved his plate and cup aside and looked straight at her for the -first time. She was thin, much thinner than she had been a year ago, but -there was something sweeter about her, too; she seemed so quiet, so -gentle. - -"We aren't going to get anywhere this way, Cynthia," he said -desperately. "We're both evading. I haven't any sense left, but what I -say from now on I am going to say straight out. I swore on the train -that I wouldn't kiss you. I knew that I wouldn't be able to think if I -did--and I can't; all I know is that I want to kiss you again." He -looked at her sitting across the little table from him, so slender and -still--a different Cynthia but damnably desirable. "Cynthia," he added -hoarsely, "if you took my hand, you could lead me to hell." - -She in turn looked at him. He was much older than he had been a year -before. Then he had been a boy; now he seemed a man. He had not changed -particularly; he was as blond and young and clean as ever, but there was -something about his mouth and eyes, something more serious and more -stern, that made him seem years older. - -"I don't want to lead you to hell, honey," she replied softly. "I left -Prom last year so that I wouldn't do that. I told you then that I wasn't -good for you--but I'm different now." - -"I can see that. I don't know what it is, but you're different, awfully -different." He leaned forward suddenly. "Cynthia, shall we go over to -Jersey and get married? I understand that one can there right away. -We're both of age--" - -"Wait, Hugh; wait." Cynthia's hands were tightly clasped in her lap. -"Are you sure that you want to? I've been thinking a lot since I got -your telegram. Are you sure you love me?" - -He slumped back into his chair. "I don't know what love is," he -confessed miserably. "I can't find out." Cynthia's hands tightened in -her lap. "I've tried to think this business out, and I can't. I haven't -any right to ask you to marry me. I haven't any money, not a bit, and -I'm not prepared to do anything, either. As I wrote you, my folks want -me to go to Harvard next year." The mention of his poverty and of his -inability to support a wife brought him back to something approaching -normal again. "I suppose I'm just a kid, Cynthia," he added more -quietly, "but sometimes I feel a thousand years old. I do right now." - -"What were your plans for next year and after that until you saw me?" -Her eyes searched his. - -"Oh, I thought I'd go to Harvard a year or two and then try to write or -perhaps teach. Writing is slow business, I understand, and teaching -doesn't pay anything. I don't want to ask my father to support us, and I -won't let your folks. I lost my head when I suggested that we get -married. It would be foolish. I haven't the right." - -"No," she agreed slowly; "no, neither of us has the right. I thought -before you came if you asked me to marry you--I was sure somehow that -you would--I would run right off and do it, but now I know that I -won't." She continued to gaze at him, her eyes troubled and confused. -What made him seem so much older, so different? - -"Do you think we can ever forget Prom?" She waited for his reply. So -much depended on it. - -"Of course," he answered impatiently. "I've forgotten that already. We -were crazy kids, that's all--youngsters trying to act smart and wild." - -"Oh!" The ejaculation was soft, but it vibrated with pain. "You mean -that--that you wouldn't--well, you wouldn't get drunk like that again?" - -"Of course not, especially at a dance. I'm not a child any longer, -Cynthia. I have sense enough now not to forfeit my self-respect again. I -hope so, anyway. I haven't been drunk in the last year. A drunkard is a -beastly sight, rotten. If I have learned anything in college, it is that -a man has to respect himself, and I can't respect any one any longer who -deliberately reduces himself to a beast. I was a beast with you a year -ago. I treated you like a woman of the streets, and I abused Norry -Parker's hospitality shamefully. If I can help it, I'll never act like a -rotter again, I hate a prig, Cynthia, like the devil, but I hate a -rotter even more. I hope I can learn to be neither." - -As he spoke, Cynthia clenched her hands so tightly that the finger-nails -were bruising her tender palms, but her eyes remained dry and her lips -did not tremble. If he could have seen _her_ on some parties this last -year.... - -"You have changed a lot." Her words were barely audible. "You have -changed an awful lot." - -He smiled. "I hope so. There are times now when I hate myself, but I -never hate myself so much as when I think of Prom. I've learned a lot in -the last year, and I hope I've learned enough to treat a decent girl -decently. I have never apologized to you the way I think I ought to." - -"Don't!" she cried, her voice vibrant with pain. "Don't! I was more to -blame than you were. Let's not talk about that." - -"All right. I'm more than willing to forget it." He paused and then -continued very seriously, "I can't ask you to marry me now, -Cynthia--but--but are you willing to wait for me? It may take time, but -I promise I'll work hard." - -Cynthia's hands clenched convulsively. "No, Hugh honey," she whispered; -"I'll never marry you. I--I don't love you." - -"What?" he demanded, his senses swimming in hopeless confusion. "What?" - -She did not say that she knew that he did not love her; she did not tell -him how much his quixotic chivalry moved her. Nor did she tell him that -she knew only too well that she could lead him to hell, as he said, but -that that was the only place that she could lead him. These things she -felt positive of, but to mention them meant an argument--and an -argument would have been unendurable. - -"No," she repeated, "I don't love you. You see, you're so different from -what I remembered. You've grown up and you've changed. Why, Hugh, we're -strangers. I've realized that while you've been talking. We don't know -each other, not a bit. We only saw each other for a week summer before -last and for two days last spring. Now we're two altogether different -people; and we don't know each other at all." - -She prayed that he would deny her statements, that he would say they -knew each other by instinct--anything, so long as he did not agree. - -"I certainly don't know you the way you're talking now," he said almost -roughly, his pride hurt and his mind in a turmoil. "I know that we don't -know each other, but I never thought that you thought that mattered." - -Her hands clenched more tightly for an instant--and then lay open and -limp in her lap. - -Her lips were trembling; so she smiled. "I didn't think it mattered -until you asked me to marry you. Then I knew it did. It was game of you -to offer to take a chance, but I'm not that game. I couldn't marry a -strange man. I like that man a lot, but I don't love him--and you don't -want me to marry you if I don't love you, do you, Hugh?" - -"Of course not." He looked down in earnest thought and then said -softly, his eyes on the table, "I'm glad that you feel that way, -Cynthia." She bit her lip and trembled slightly. "I'll confess now that -I don't think that I love you, either. You sweep me clean off my feet -when I'm with you, but when I'm away from you I don't feel that way. I -think love must be something more than we feel for each other." He -looked up and smiled boyishly. "We'll go on being friends anyhow, won't -we?" - -Somehow she managed to smile back at him. "Of course," she whispered, -and then after a brief pause added: "We had better go now. Your train -will be leaving pretty soon." - -Hugh pulled out his watch. "By jingo, so it will." - -He called the waiter, paid his bill, and a few minutes later they turned -into Fifth Avenue. They had gone about a block down the avenue when Hugh -saw some one a few feet ahead of him who looked familiar. Could it be -Carl Peters? By the Lord Harry, it was! - -"Excuse me a minute, Cynthia, please. There's a fellow I know." - -He rushed forward and caught Carl by the arm. Carl cried, "Hugh, by -God!" and shook hands with him violently. "Hell, Hugh, I'm glad to see -you." - -Hugh turned to Cynthia, who was a pace behind them. He introduced Carl -and Cynthia to each other and then asked Carl why in the devil he -hadn't written. - -Carl switched his leg with his cane and grinned. "You know darn well, -Hugh, that I don't write letters, but I did mean to write to you; I -meant to often. I've been traveling. My mother and I have just got back -from a trip around the world. Where are you going now?" - -"Oh, golly," Hugh exclaimed, "I've got to hurry if I'm going to make -that train. Come on, Carl, with us to Grand Central. I've got to get the -five-ten back to Haydensville. My folks are coming up to-morrow for -commencement." Instantly he hated himself. Why did he have to mention -commencement? He might have remembered that it should have been Carl's -commencement, too. - -Carl, however, did not seem in the least disturbed, and he cheerfully -accompanied Hugh and Cynthia to the station. He looked at Cynthia and -had an idea. - -"Have you checked your bag?" - -"Yes," Hugh replied. - -"Well, give me the check and I'll get it for you. I'll meet you at the -gate." - -Hugh surrendered the check and then proceeded to the gate with Cynthia. -He turned to her and asked gently, "May I kiss you, Cynthia?" - -For an instant she looked down and said nothing; then she turned her -face up to his. He kissed her tenderly, wondering why he felt no -passion, afraid that he would. - -"Good-by, Cynthia dear," he whispered. - -Her hands fluttered helplessly about his coat lapels and then fell to -her side. She managed a brave little smile. "Good-by--honey." - -Carl rushed up with the bag. "Gosh, Hugh, you've got to hurry; they're -closing the gate." He gripped his hand for a second. "Visit me at Bar -Harbor this summer if you can." - -"Sure. Good-by, old man. Good-by Cynthia." - -"Good-by--good-by." - -Hugh slipped through the gate and, turned to wave at Carl and Cynthia. -They waved back, and then he ran for the train. - -On the long trip to Haydensville Hugh relaxed. Now that the strain was -over, he felt suddenly weak, but it was sweet weakness. He could -graduate in peace now. The visit to New York had been worth while. And -what do you know, bumping into old Carl like that I Cynthia and he were -friends, too, the best friends in the world, but she no longer wanted to -marry him. That was fine.... He remembered the picture she and Carl had -made standing on the other side of the gate from him. "What a peach of a -pair. Golly, wouldn't it be funny if they hit it off...." - -He thought over every word that he and Cynthia had said. She certainly -had been square all right. Not many like her, but "by heaven, I knew -down in my heart all the time that I didn't want to get married or even -engaged. It would have played hell with everything." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -The next morning Hugh's mother and father arrived in the automobile. He -was to drive them back to Merrytown the day after commencement. At last -he stood in the doorway of the Nu Delta house and welcomed his father, -but he had forgotten all about that youthful dream. He was merely aware -that he was enormously glad to see the "folks" and that his father -seemed to be withering into an old man. - -As the under-classmen departed, the alumni began to arrive. The "five -year" classes dressed in extraordinary outfits--Indians, Turks, and men -in prison garb roamed the campus. There were youngsters just a year out -of college, still looking like undergraduates, still full of college -talk. The alumni ranged all the way from these one-year men to the -fifty-year men, twelve old men who had come back to Sanford fifty years -after their graduation, and two of them had come all the way across the -continent. There had been only fifty men originally in that class; and -twelve of them were back. - -What brought them back? Hugh wondered. He thought he knew, but he -couldn't have given a reason. He watched those old men wandering slowly -around the campus, one of them with his grandson who was graduating this -year, and he was awed by their age and their devotion to their alma -mater. Yes, Henley had been right. Sanford was far from perfect, far -from it--a child could see that--but there was something in the college -that gripped one's heart. What faults that old college had; but how one -loved her! - -Thousands of Japanese lanterns had been strung around the campus; an -electric fountain sparkled and splashed its many-colored waters; a band -seemed to be playing every hour of the day and night from the band-stand -in front of the Union. It was a gay scene, and everybody seemed superbly -happy except, possibly, the seniors. They pretended to be happy, but all -of them were a little sad, a little frightened. College had been very -beautiful--and the "world outside," what was it? What did it have in -store for them? - -There were mothers and fathers there to see their sons receive their -degrees, there were the wives and children of the alumni, there were -sisters and fiancées of the seniors. Nearly two thousand people; and at -least half of the alumni drunk most of the time. Very drunk, many of -them, and very foolish, but nobody minded. Somehow every one seemed to -realize that in a few brief days they were trying to recapture a -youthful thrill that had gone forever. Some of the drunken ones seemed -very silly, some of them seemed almost offensive; all of them were -pathetic. - -They had come back to Sanford where they had once been so young and -exuberant, so tireless in pleasure, so in love with living; and they -were trying to pour all that youthful zest into themselves again out of -a bottle bought from a bootlegger. Were they having a good time? Who -knows? Probably not. A bald-headed man does not particularly enjoy -looking at a picture taken in his hirsute youth; and yet there is a -certain whimsical pleasure in the memories the picture brings. - -For three days there was much gaiety, much singing of class songs, -constant parading, dances, speech-making, class circuses, and endless -shaking of hands and exchanging of reminiscences. The seniors moved -through all the excitement quietly, keeping close to their relatives and -friends. Graduation wasn't so thrilling as they had expected it to be; -it was more sad. The alumni seemed to be having a good time; they were -ridiculously boyish: only the seniors were grave, strangely and -unnaturally dignified. - -Most of the alumni left the night before the graduation exercises. The -parents and fiancées remained. They stood in the middle of the campus -and watched the seniors, clad in caps and gowns, line up before the -Union at the orders of the class marshal. - -Finally, the procession, the grand marshal, a professor, in the lead -with a wand in his hand, then President Culver and the governor of the -State, then the men who were to receive honorary degrees--a writer, a -college president, a philanthropist, a professor, and three -politicians--then the faculty in academic robes, their many-colored -hoods brilliant against their black gowns. And last the seniors, a long -line of them marching in twos headed by their marshal. - -The visitors streamed after them into the chapel. The seniors sat in -their customary seats, the faculty and the men who were to receive -honorary degrees on a platform that had been built at the altar. After -they were seated, everything became a blur to Hugh. He hardly knew what -was happening. He saw his father and mother sitting in the transept. He -thought his mother was crying. He hoped not.... Some one prayed -stupidly. There was a hymn.... What was it Cynthia had said? Oh, yes: "I -can't marry a stranger." Well, they weren't exactly strangers.... He was -darn glad he had gone to New York.... The president seemed to be saying -over and over again, "By the power invested in me ..." and every time -that he said it, Professor Blake would slip the loop of a colored hood -over the head of a writer or a politician--and then it was happening all -over again. - -Suddenly the class marshal motioned to the seniors to rise. They put on -their mortar-boards. The president said once more, "By the power -invested in me...." The seniors filed by the president, and the grand -marshal handed each of them a roll of parchment tied with blue and -orange ribbons. Hugh felt a strange thrill as he took his. He was -graduated; he was a bachelor of science.... Back again to their seats. -Some one was pronouncing benediction.... Music from the organ--marching -out of the chapel, the surge of friends--his father shaking his hand, -his mother's arms around his neck; she _was_ crying.... - -Graduation was over, and, with it Hugh's college days. Many of the -seniors left at once. Hugh would have liked to go, too, but his father -wanted to stay one more day in Haydensville. Besides, there was a final -senior dance that night, and he thought that Hugh ought to attend it. - -Hugh did go to the dance, but somehow it brought him no pleasure. -Although it was immensely decorous, it reminded him of Cynthia. He -thought of her tenderly. The best little girl he'd ever met.... He -danced on, religiously steering around the sisters and fiancées of his -friends, but he could not enjoy the dance. Shortly after eleven he -slipped out of the gymnasium and made one last tour of the campus. - -It was a moonlight night, and the campus was mysterious with shadows. -The elms shook their leaves whisperingly; the tower of the chapel looked -like magic tracery in the moonlight. He paused before Surrey Hall, now -dark and empty. Good old Carl.... Carl and Cynthia? He wondered.... -Pudge had roomed there, too. He passed on. Keller Hall, Cynthia and -Norry.... "God, what a beast I was that night. How white Norry was--and -Cynthia, too," Cynthia again. She'd always be a part of Sanford to him. -On down to the lake to watch the silver path of the moonlight and the -heavy reflections near the shore. Swimming, canoeing, skating--he and -Cynthia in the woods beyond.... On back to the campus, around the -buildings, every one of them filled with memories. Four years--four -beautiful, wonderful years.... Good old Sanford.... - -Midnight struck. Some one turned a switch somewhere. The Japanese -lanterns suddenly lost their colors and faded to gray balloons in the -moonlight. Some men were singing on the Union steps. It was a few -seniors, Hugh knew; they had been singing for an hour. - -He stood in the center of the campus and listened, his eyes full of -tears. Earnestly, religiously, the men sang, their voices rich with -emotion: - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true. - Let thy arms enfold us; - Let thy truth uphold us. - Queen of colleges, mother of men-- - Alma mater--Sanford--hail! - Alma-mater--Hail!--Hail!" - - -Hugh walked slowly across the campus toward the Nu Delta house. He was -both happy and sad--happy because the great adventure was before him -with all its mystery, sad because he was leaving something beautiful -behind.... - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plastic Age, by Percy Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - -***** This file should be named 16532-8.txt or 16532-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/3/16532/ - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Plastic Age - -Author: Percy Marks - -Release Date: August 15, 2005 [EBook #16532] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - - - - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p> </p> -<div class="trans-note"> -The photos are from the screenplay and do not relate directly to the text. -Clicking on the photos will open larger images. -</div> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<h1>THE PLASTIC AGE</h1> - -<h3>BY</h3> - -<h2>PERCY MARKS</h2> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<h4>ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES<br /> -FROM THE PHOTOPLAY<br /> -A PREFERRED PICTURE</h4> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/title.png" alt="decoration" width="82" /> -</div> -<p> </p> -<h4>GROSSET & DUNLAP</h4> -<h5>PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</h5> - -<h6>Made in the United States of America</h6> - -<h6>1924</h6> - -<h6>THE CENTURY Co.</h6> - -<h6>PRINTED IN U. S. A.</h6> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<h4>To<br /> -MY MOTHER</h4> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="frontis" id="frontis" href="images/frontis.jpg"> - <img src="images/frontis-tb.jpg" alt="'SHE'S _MY_ GIRL! HANDS OFF!'" width="350" /></a> - <p>"she's <i>my</i> girl! hands off!"</p> -</div> -<p> </p> - -<h3>CONTENTS</h3> - -<div class="toc"> - -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_I'>CHAPTER I</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_II'>CHAPTER II</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_III'>CHAPTER III</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_IV'>CHAPTER IV</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_V'>CHAPTER V</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_VI'>CHAPTER VI</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_VII'>CHAPTER VII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'>CHAPTER VIII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_IX'>CHAPTER IX</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_X'>CHAPTER X</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XI'>CHAPTER XI</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XII'>CHAPTER XII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'>CHAPTER XIII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'>CHAPTER XIV</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XV'>CHAPTER XV</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'>CHAPTER XVI</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'>CHAPTER XVII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'>CHAPTER XVIII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'>CHAPTER XIX</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XX'>CHAPTER XX</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'>CHAPTER XXI</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'>CHAPTER XXII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII'>CHAPTER XXIII</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV'>CHAPTER XXIV</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV'>CHAPTER XXV</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI'>CHAPTER XXVI</a></p> -<p><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII'>CHAPTER XXVII</a></p> -</div> -<hr /> -<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> -<div class="illus"> -<p><a href="#frontis">"she's <i>my</i> girl! hands off!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#flannels">"look! flannels for mamma's boy!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#liquid">"come on—i know where there's liquid refreshment!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#hotsy">"that's cynthia day—a real hotsy-totsy!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#salome">"dance, salome!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#popularity">hugh's popularity is established after the first athletic try-outs.</a></p> -<p><a href="#joints">"one turn, hugh, and we'll quit these joints for good!"</a></p> -<p><a href="#animosity">carl forgets his animosity in honest admiration for hugh.</a></p> -</div> - - -<hr style='width: 65%;' /> -<h1>THE PLASTIC AGE</h1> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h2>CHAPTER I</h2> -<br /> - -<p>When an American sets out to found a college, he hunts first for a hill. -John Harvard was an Englishman and indifferent to high places. The -result is that Harvard has become a university of vast proportions and -no color. Yale flounders about among the New Haven shops, trying to rise -above them. The Harkness Memorial tower is successful; otherwise the -university smells of trade. If Yale had been built on a hill, it would -probably be far less important and much more interesting.</p> - -<p>Hezekiah Sanford was wise; he found first his hill and then founded his -college, believing probably that any one ambitious enough to climb the -hill was a man fit to wrestle with learning and, if need be, with Satan -himself. Satan was ever before Hezekiah, and he fought him valiantly, -exorcising him every morning in chapel and every evening at prayers. The -first students of Sanford College learned Latin and Greek and to fear -the devil. There are some who declare that their successors learn less.</p> - -<p>Hezekiah built Sanford Hall, a fine Georgian building, performed the -duties of trustees, president, dean, and faculty for thirty years, and -then passed to his reward, leaving three thousand acres, his library of -five hundred books, mostly sermons, Sanford Hall, and a charter that -opened the gates of Sanford to all men so that they might "find the true -light of God and the glory of Jesus in the halls of this most liberal -college."</p> - -<p>More than a century had passed since Hezekiah was laid to rest in -Haydensville's cemetery. The college had grown miraculously and changed -even more miraculously. Only the hill and its beautiful surroundings -remained the same. Indian Lake, on the south of the campus, still -sparkled in the sunlight; on the east the woods were as virgin as they -had been a hundred and fifty years before. Haydensville, still only a -village, surrounded the college on the west and north.</p> - -<p>Hezekiah's successors had done strange things to his campus. There were -dozens of buildings now surrounding Sanford Hall, and they revealed all -the types of architecture popular since Hezekiah had thundered his last -defiance at Satan. There were fine old colonial buildings, their windows -outlined by English ivy; ponderous Romanesque buildings made of stone, -grotesque and hideous; a pseudo-Gothic chapel with a tower of -surpassing loveliness; and four laboratories of the purest factory -design. But despite the conglomerate and sometimes absurd -architecture—a Doric temple neighbored a Byzantine mosque—the campus -was beautiful. Lawns, often terraced, stretched everywhere, and the -great elms lent a dignity to Sanford College that no architect, however -stupid, could quite efface.</p> - -<p>This first day of the new college year was glorious in the golden haze -of Indian summer. The lake was silver blue, the long reflections of the -trees twisting and bending as a soft breeze ruffled the surface into -tiny waves. The hills already brilliant with color—scarlet, burnt -orange, mauve, and purple—flamed up to meet the clear blue sky; the -elms softly rustled their drying leaves; the white houses of the village -retreated coyly behind maples and firs and elms: everywhere there was -peace, the peace that comes with strength that has been stronger than -time.</p> - -<p>As Hugh Carver hastened up the hill from the station, his two suit-cases -banged his legs and tripped him. He could hardly wait to reach the -campus. The journey had been intolerably long—Haydensville was more -than three hundred miles from Merrytown, his home—and he was wild to -find his room in Surrey Hall. He wondered how he would like his -room-mate, Peters.... What's his name? Oh, yes, Carl.... The registrar -had written that Peters had gone to Kane School.... Must be pretty fine. -Ought to be first-class to room with.... Hugh hoped that Peters wouldn't -think that he was too country....</p> - -<p>Hugh was a slender lad who looked considerably less than his eighteen -years. A gray cap concealed his sandy brown hair, which he parted on the -side and which curled despite all his brushing. His crystalline blue -eyes, his small, neatly carved nose, his sensitive mouth that hid a shy -and appealing smile, were all very boyish. He seemed young, almost -pathetically young.</p> - -<p>People invariably called him a nice boy, and he didn't like it; in fact, -he wanted to know how they got that way. They gave him the pip, that's -what they did. He guessed that a fellow who could run the hundred in 10: -2 and out-box anybody in high school wasn't such a baby. Why, he had -overheard one of the old maid teachers call him sweet. Sweet! Cripes, -that old hen made him sick. She was always pawing him and sticking her -skinny hands in his hair. He was darn glad to get to college where there -were only men teachers.</p> - -<p>Women always wanted to get their hands into his hair, and boys liked him -on sight. Many of those who were streaming up the hill before and behind -him, who passed him or whom he passed, glanced at his eager face and -thought that there was a guy they'd like to know.</p> - -<p>An experienced observer would have divided those boys into three groups: -preparatory school boys, carelessly at ease, well dressed, or, as the -college argot has it, "smooth"; boys from city schools, not so well -dressed perhaps, certainly not so sure of themselves; and country boys, -many of them miserably confused and some of them clad in Kollege Kut -Klothes that they would shamefacedly discard within a week.</p> - -<p>Hugh finally reached the top of the hill, and the campus was before him. -He had visited the college once with his father and knew his way about. -Eager as he was to reach Surrey Hall, he paused to admire the -pseudo-Gothic chapel. He felt a little thrill of pride as he stared in -awe at the magnificent building. It had been willed to the college by an -alumnus who had made millions selling rotten pork.</p> - -<p>Hugh skirted two of the factory laboratories, hurried between the Doric -temple and Byzantine mosque, paused five times to direct confused -classmates, passed a dull red colonial building, and finally stood -before Surrey Hall, a large brick dormitory half covered by ivy.</p> - -<p>He hurried up-stairs and down a corridor until he found a door with 19 -on it. He knocked.</p> - -<p>"What th' hell! Come in." The voice was impatiently cheerful.</p> - -<p>Hugh pushed open the door and entered the room to meet wild -confusion—and his room-mate. The room was a clutter of suit-cases, -trunks, clothes, banners, unpacked furniture, pillows, pictures, -golf-sticks, tennis-rackets, and photographs—dozens of photographs, all -of them of girls apparently. In the middle of the room a boy was on his -knees before an open trunk. He had sleek black hair, parted meticulously -in the center, a slender face with rather sharp features and large black -eyes that almost glittered. His lips were full and very red, almost too -red, and his cheeks seemed to be colored with a hard blush.</p> - -<p>"Hullo," he said in a clear voice as Hugh came in. "Who are you?"</p> - -<p>Hugh flushed slightly. "I'm Carver," he answered, "Hugh Carver."</p> - -<p>The other lad jumped to his feet, revealing, to Hugh's surprise, golf -knickers. He was tall, slender, and very neatly built.</p> - -<p>"Hell!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have guessed that." He held out his -hand. "I'm Carl Peters, the guy you've got to room with—and God help -you."</p> - -<p>Hugh dropped his suit-cases and shook hands. "Guess I can stand it," he -said with a quick laugh to hide his embarrassment. "Maybe you'll need a -little of God's help yourself." Diffident and unsure, he smiled—and -Peters liked him on the spot.</p> - -<p>"Chase yourself," Peters said easily. "I know a good guy when I see one. -Sit down somewhere—er, here." He brushed a pile of clothes off a trunk -to the floor with one sweep of his arm. "Rest yourself after climbing -that goddamn hill. Christ! It's a bastard, that hill is. Say, your -trunk's down-stairs. I saw it. I'll help you bring it up soon's you've -got your wind."</p> - -<p>Hugh was rather dazzled by the rapid, staccato talk, and, to tell the -truth, he was a little shocked by the profanity. Not that he wasn't used -to profanity; he had heard plenty of that in Merrytown, but he didn't -expect somehow that a college man—that is, a prep-school man—would use -it. He felt that he ought to make some reply to Peters's talk, but he -didn't know just what would do. Peters saved him the trouble.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you, Carver—oh, hell, I'm going to call you Hugh—we're -going to have a swell joint here. Quite the darb. Three rooms, you know; -a bedroom for each of us and this big study. I've brought most of the -junk that I had at Kane, and I s'pose you've got some of your own."</p> - -<p>"Not much," Hugh replied, rather ashamed of what he thought might be -considered stinginess. He hastened to explain that he didn't know what -Carl would have; so he thought that he had better wait and get his stuff -at college.</p> - -<p>"That's the bean," exclaimed Carl, He had perched himself on the -window-seat. He threw one well shaped leg over the other and gazed at -Hugh admiringly. "You certainly used the old bean. Say, I've got a hell -of a lot of truck here, and if you'd a brought much, we'd a been -swamped.... Say, I'll tell you how we fix this dump." He jumped up, led -Hugh on a tour of the rooms, discussed the disposal of the various -pieces of furniture with enormous gusto, and finally pointed to the -photographs.</p> - -<p>"Hope you don't mind my harem," he said, making a poor attempt to hide -his pride.</p> - -<p>"It's some harem," replied Hugh in honest awe.</p> - -<p>Again he felt ashamed. He had pictures of his father and mother, and -that was all. He'd write to Helen for one right away. "Where'd you get -all of 'em? You've certainly got a collection."</p> - -<p>"Sure have. The album of hearts I've broken. When I've kissed a girl -twice I make her give me her picture. I've forgotten the names of some -of these janes. I collected ten at Bar Harbor this summer and three at -Christmas Cove. Say, this kid—" he fished through a pile of -pictures—"was the hottest little devil I ever met." He passed to Hugh a -cabinet photograph of a standard flapper. "Pet? My God!" He cast his -eyes ceilingward ecstatically.</p> - -<p>Hugh's mind was a battle-field of disapproval and envy. Carl dazzled and -confused him. He had often listened to the recitals of their exploits by -the Merrytown Don Juans, but this good-looking, sophisticated lad -evidently had a technique and breadth of experience quite unknown to -Merrytown. He wanted badly to hear more, but time was flying and he -hadn't even begun to unpack.</p> - -<p>"Will you help me bring up my trunk?" he asked half shyly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, hell, yes. I'd forgotten all about that. Come on."</p> - -<p>They spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, arranging and -rearranging the furniture and pictures. They found a restaurant and had -dinner. Then they returned to 19 Surrey and rearranged the furniture -once more, pausing occasionally to chat while Carl smoked. He offered -Hugh a cigarette. Hugh explained that he did not smoke, that he was a -sprinter and that the coaches said that cigarettes were bad for a -runner.</p> - -<p>"Right-o," said Carl, respecting the reason thoroughly. "I can't run -worth a damn myself, but I'm not bad at tennis—not very good, either. -Say, if you're a runner you ought to make a fraternity easy. Got your -eye on one?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Hugh, "my father's a Nu Delt."</p> - -<p>"The Nu Delts. Phew! High-hat as hell." He looked at Hugh enviously. -"Say, you certainly are set. Well, my old man never went to college, but -I want to tell you that he left us a whale of a lot of jack when he -passed out a couple of years ago."</p> - -<p>"What!" Hugh exclaimed, staring at him in blank astonishment.</p> - -<p>In an instant Carl was on his feet, his flashing eyes dimmed by tears. -"My old man was the best scout that ever lived—the best damned old -scout that ever lived." His sophistication was all gone; he was just a -small boy, heartily ashamed of himself and ready to cry. "I want you to -know that," he ended defiantly.</p> - -<p>At once Hugh was all sympathy. "Sure, I know," he said softly. Then he -smiled and added, "So's mine."</p> - -<p>Carl's face lost its lugubriousness in a broad grin. "I'm a fish," he -announced. "Let's hit the hay."</p> - -<p>"You said it!"</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h2>CHAPTER II</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh wrote two letters before he went to bed, one to his mother and -father and the other to Helen Simpson. His letter to Helen was very -brief, merely a request for her photograph.</p> - -<p>Then, his mind in a whirl of excitement, he went to bed and lay awake -dreaming, thinking of Carl, the college, and, most of all, of Helen and -his walk with her the day before.</p> - -<p>He had called on her to say good-by. They had been "going together" for -a year, and she was generally considered his girl. She was a pretty -child with really beautiful brown hair, which she had foolishly bobbed, -lively blue eyes, and an absurdly tiny snub nose. She was little, with -quick, eager hands—a shallow creature who was proud to be seen with -Hugh because he had been captain of the high-school track team. But she -did wish that he wasn't so slow. Why, he had kissed her only once, and -that had been a silly peck on the cheek. Perhaps he was just shy, but -sometimes she was almost sure that he was "plain dumb."</p> - -<p>They had walked silently along the country road to the woods that -skirted the town. An early frost had already touched the foliage with -scarlet and orange. They sat down on a fallen log, and Hugh gazed at a -radiant maple-tree.</p> - -<p>Helen let her hand drop lightly on his. "Thinking of me?" she asked -softly.</p> - -<p>Hugh squeezed her hand. "Yes," he whispered, and looked at the ground -while he scuffed some fallen leaves with the toe of his shoe.</p> - -<p>"I am going to miss you, Hughie—oh, awfully. Are you going to miss me?"</p> - -<p>He held her hand tightly and said nothing. He was aware only of her -hand. His throat seemed to be stopped, choked with something.</p> - -<p>A bird that should have been on its way south chirped from a tree near -by. The sound made Hugh look up. He noticed that the shadows were -lengthening. He and Helen would have to start back pretty soon or he -would be late for dinner. There was still packing to do; his mother had -said that his father wanted to have a talk with him—and through all his -thoughts there ran like a fiery red line the desire to kiss the girl -whose hand was clasped in his.</p> - -<p>He turned slightly toward her. "Hughie," she whispered and moved close -to him. His heart stopped as he loosened her hand from his and put his -arm around her. With a contented sigh she rested her head on one -shoulder and her hand on the other. "Hughie dear," she breathed softly.</p> - -<p>He hesitated no longer. His heart was beating so that he could not -speak, but he bent and kissed her. And there they sat for half an hour -more, close in each other's embrace, speaking no words, but losing -themselves in kisses that seemed to have no end.</p> - -<p>Finally Hugh realized that darkness had fallen. He drew the yielding -girl to her feet and started home, his arm around her. When they reached -her gate, he embraced her once more and kissed her as if he could never -let her go. A light flashed in a window. Frightened, he tried to leave, -but she clung to him.</p> - -<p>"I must go," he whispered desperately.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to miss you awfully." He thought that she was weeping—and -kissed her again. Then as another window shot light into the yard, he -forced her arms from around his neck.</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Helen. Write to me." His voice was rough and husky.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I will. Good-by—darling."</p> - -<p>He walked home tingling with emotion. He wanted to shout; he felt -suddenly grown up. Golly, but Helen was a little peach. He felt her arms -around his neck again, her lips pressed maddeningly to his. For an -instant he was dizzy....</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>As he lay in bed in 19 Surrey thinking of Helen, he tried to summon that -glorious intoxication again. But he failed. Carl, the college, -registration—a thousand thoughts intruded themselves. Already Helen -seemed far away, a little nebulous. He wondered why....</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h2>CHAPTER III</h2> -<br /> - -<p>For the next few days Carl and Hugh did little but wait in line. They -lined up to register; they lined up to pay tuition; they lined up to -shake hands with President Culver; they lined up to talk for two quite -useless minutes with the freshman dean; they lined up to be assigned -seats in the commons. Carl suggested that he and Hugh line up in the -study before going to bed so that they would keep in practice. Then they -had to attend lectures given by various members of the faculty about -college customs, college manners, college honor, college everything. -After the sixth of them, Hugh, thoroughly weary and utterly confused, -asked Carl if he now had any idea of what college was.</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Carl; "it's a young ladies' school for very nice boys."</p> - -<p>"Well," Hugh said desperately, "if I have to listen to about two more -awfully noble lectures, I'm going to get drunk. I have a hunch that -college isn't anything like what these old birds say it is. I hope not, -anyway."</p> - -<p>"Course it isn't. Say, why wait for two more of the damn things to kill -you off?" He pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and held it out -invitingly.</p> - -<p>Hugh laughed. "You told me yourself that that stuff was catgut and that -you wouldn't drink it on a bet. Besides, you know that I don't drink. If -I'm going to make my letter, I've got to keep in trim."</p> - -<p>"Right you are. Wish I knew what to do with this poison. If I leave it -around here, the biddy'll get hold of it, and then God help us. I'll -tell you what: after it gets dark to-night we'll take it down and poison -the waters of dear old Indian Lake."</p> - -<p>"All right. Say, I've got to pike along; I've got a date with my faculty -adviser. Hope I don't have to stand in line."</p> - -<p>He didn't have to stand in line—he was permitted to sit—but he did -have to wait an hour and a half. Finally a student came out of the inner -office, and a gruff voice from within called, "Next!"</p> - -<p>"Just like a barber shop," flashed across Hugh's mind as he entered the -tiny office.</p> - -<p>An old-young man was sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He glanced -up as Hugh came in and motioned him to a chair beside him. Hugh sat down -and stared at his feet.</p> - -<p>"Um, let's see. Your name's—what?"</p> - -<p>"Carver, sir. Hugh Carver."</p> - -<p>The adviser, Professor Kane, glanced at some notes. "Oh, yes, from -Merrytown High School, fully accredited. Are you taking an A. B. or a -B. S.?"</p> - -<p>"I—I don't know."</p> - -<p>"You have to have one year of college Latin for a B. S. and at least two -years of Greek besides for an A. B."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Hugh was frightened and confused. He knew that his father was an -A. B., but he had heard the high-school principal say that Greek was -useless nowadays. Suddenly he remembered: the principal had advised him -to take a B. S.; he had said that it was more practical.</p> - -<p>"I guess I'd better take a B. S.," he said softly. "Very well." Professor -Kane, who hadn't yet looked at Hugh, picked up a schedule card. "Any -middle name?" he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir—Meredith."</p> - -<p>Kane scribbled H. M. Carver at the top of the card and then proceeded to -fill it in rapidly. He hastily explained the symbols that he was using, -but he did not say anything about the courses. When he had completed the -schedule, he copied it on another card, handed one to Hugh, and stuck -the other into a filing-box.</p> - -<p>"Anything else?" he asked, turning his blond, blank face toward Hugh for -the first time.</p> - -<p>Hugh stood up. There were a dozen questions that he wanted to ask. "No, -sir," he replied. "Very well, then. I am your regular adviser. You will -come to me when you need assistance. Good day."</p> - -<p>"Good day, sir," and as Hugh passed out of the door, the gruff voice -bawled, "Next!" The boy nearest the door rose and entered the sanctum.</p> - -<p>Hugh sought the open air and gazed at the hieroglyphics on the card. -"Guess they mean something," he mused, "but how am I going to find out?" -A sudden fear made him blanch. "I bet I get into the wrong places. Oh, -golly!"</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>Then came the upper-classmen, nearly seven hundred of them. The quiet -campus became a bedlam of excitement and greetings. "Hi, Jack. Didya -have a good summer?"... "Well, Tom, ol' kid, I sure am glad to see you -back."... "Put her there, ol' scout; it's sure good to see you." -Everywhere the same greetings: "Didya have a good summer? Glad to see -you back." Every one called every one else by his first name; every one -shook hands with astonishing vigor, usually clutching the other fellow -by the forearm at the same time. How cockily these lads went around the -campus! No confusion or fear for them; they knew what to do.</p> - -<p>For the first time Hugh felt a pang of homesickness; for the first time -he realized that he wasn't yet part of the college. He clung close to -Carl and one or two other lads in Surrey with whom he picked up an -acquaintance, and Carl clung close to Hugh, careful to hide the fact -that he felt very small and meek. For the first time <i>he</i> realized that -he was just a freshman—and he didn't like it.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly the tension, which had been gathering for a day or so, -broke. Orders went out from the upper-classmen that all freshmen put on -their baby bonnets, silly little blue caps with a bright orange button. -From that moment every freshman was doomed. Work was their lot, and -plenty of it. "Hi, freshman, carry up my trunk. Yeah, you, freshman—you -with the skinny legs. You and your fat friend carry my trunk up to the -fourth floor—and if you drop it, I'll break your fool necks."... -"Freshman! go down to the station and get my suit-cases. Here are the -checks. Hurry back if you know what's good for you."... "Freshman! go -up to Hill Twenty-eight and put the beds together."... "Freshman! come -up to my room. I want you to hang pictures."</p> - -<p>Fortunately the labor did not last long, but while it lasted Hugh was -hustled around as he never had been before. And he loved it. He loved -his blue cap and its orange button; he loved the upper-classmen who -called him freshman and ordered him around; he loved the very trunks -that he lugged so painfully up-stairs. He was being recognized, merely -as a janitor, it is true, but recognized; at last he was a part of -Sanford College. Further, one of the men who had ordered him around the -most fiercely wore a Nu Delta pin, the emblem of his father's -fraternity. He ran that man's errands with such speed and willingness -that the hero decided that the freshman was "very, very dumb."</p> - -<p>That night Hugh and Carl sat in 19 Surrey and rested their aching bones, -one on a couch, the other in a leather Morris chair.</p> - -<p>"Hot stuff, wasn't it?" said Hugh, stretching out comfortably.</p> - -<p>"Hot stuff, hell! How do they get that way?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind; we'll do the ordering next year."</p> - -<p>"Right you are," said Carl decisively, lighting a cigarette, "and won't -I make the little frosh walk." He gazed around the room, his face -beaming with satisfaction. "Say, we're pretty snappy here, aren't we?"</p> - -<p>Hugh, too, looked around admiringly. The walls were almost hidden by -banners, a huge Sanford blanket—Hugh's greatest contribution—Carl's -Kane blanket, the photographs of the "harem," posters of college -athletes and movie bathing-girls, pipe-racks, and three Maxfield Parrish -prints.</p> - -<p>"It certainly is fine," said Hugh proudly. "All we need is a barber pole -and a street sign."</p> - -<p>"We'll have 'em before the week is out." This with great decision.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Carl's adviser had been less efficient than Hugh's; therefore he knew -what his courses were, where the classes met and the hours, the names of -his instructors, and the requirements other than Latin for a B. S. -degree. Carl said that he was taking a B. S. because he had had a year of -Greek at Kane and was therefore perfectly competent to make full use of -the language; he could read the letters on the front doors of the -fraternity houses.</p> - -<p>The boys found that their courses were the same but that they were in -different sections. Hugh was in a dilemma; he could make nothing out of -his card.</p> - -<p>"Here," said Carl, "give the thing to me. My adviser was a good scout -and wised me up. This P. C. isn't paper cutting as you might suppose; -it's gym. You'll get out of that by signing up for track. P. C. means -physical culture. Think of that! You can sign up for track any time -to-morrow down at the gym. And E I, 7 means that you're in English I, -Section 7; and M is math. You re in Section 3. Lat means Latin, of -course—Section 6. My adviser—he tried pretty hard to be funny—said -that G. S. wasn't glorious salvation but general science. That meets in -the big lecture hall in Cranston. We all go to that. And H I, 4 means -that you are in Section 4 of History I. See? That's all there is to it. -Now this thing"—he held up a printed schedule—"tells you where the -classes meet."</p> - -<p>With a great deal of labor, discussion, and profanity they finally got a -schedule made out that meant something to Hugh. He heaved a -Brobdingnagian sigh of relief when they finished.</p> - -<p>"Well," he exclaimed, "that's that! At last I know where I'm going. You -certainly saved my life. I know where all the buildings are; so it ought -to be easy."</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Carl encouragingly; "it's easy. Now there's nothing to do -till to-morrow until eight forty-five when we attend chapel to the glory -of the Lord. I think I'll pray to-morrow; I may need it. Christ! I hate -to study."</p> - -<p>"Me, too," Hugh lied. He really loved books, but somehow he couldn't -admit the fact, which had suddenly become shameful, to Carl. "Let's go -to the movies," he suggested, changing the subject for safety.</p> - -<p>"Right-o!" Carl put on his freshman cap and flung Hugh's to him. "Gloria -Nielsen is there, and she's a pash baby. Ought to be a good fillum."</p> - -<p>The Blue and Orange—it was the only movie theater in town—was almost -full when the boys arrived. Only a few seats near the front were still -vacant. A freshman started down the aisle, his "baby bonnet" stuck -jauntily on the back of his head.</p> - -<p>"Freshman!"... "Kill him!"... "Murder the frosh!" Shouts came from all -parts of the house, and an instant later hundreds of peanuts shot -swiftly at the startled freshman. "Cap! Cap! Cap off!" There was a panic -of excitement. Upper-classmen were standing on their chairs to get free -throwing room. The freshman snatched off his cap, drew his head like a -scared turtle down into his coat collar, and ran for a seat. Hugh and -Carl tucked their caps into their coat pockets and attempted to stroll -nonchalantly down the aisle. They hadn't taken three steps before the -bombardment began. Like their classmate, they ran for safety.</p> - -<p>Then some one in the front of the theatre threw a peanut at some one in -the rear. The fight was on! Yelling like madmen, the students stood on -their chairs and hurled peanuts, the front and rear of the house -automatically dividing into enemy camps. When the fight was at its -hottest, three girls entered.</p> - -<p>"Wimmen! Wimmen!" As the girls walked down the aisle, infinitely pleased -with their reception, five hundred men stamped in time with their -steps.</p> - -<p>No sooner were the girls seated than there was a scramble in one corner, -an excited scuffling of feet. "I've got it!" a boy screamed. He stood on -his chair and held up a live mouse by its tail. There was a shout of -applause and then—"Play catch!"</p> - -<p>The boy dropped the writhing mouse into a peanut bag, screwed the open -end tight-closed, and then threw the bag far across the room. Another -boy caught it and threw it, this time over the girls' heads. They -screamed and jumped upon their chairs, holding their skirts, and dancing -up and down in assumed terror. Back over their heads, back and over, -again and again the bagged mouse was thrown while the girls screamed and -the boys roared with delight. Suddenly one of the girls threw up her -arm, caught the bag deftly, held it for a second, and then tossed it -into the rear of the theater.</p> - -<p>Cheers of terrifying violence broke loose: "Ray! Ray! Atta girl! Hot -dog! Ray, ray!" And then the lights went out.</p> - -<p>"Moosick! Moosick! Moo-<i>sick</i>!" The audience stamped and roared, -whistled and howled. "Moosick! We want moosick!"</p> - -<p>The pianist, an undergraduate, calmly strolled down the aisle.</p> - -<p>"Get a move on!"... "Earn your salary!"... "Give us moosick!"</p> - -<p>The pianist paused to thumb his nose casually at the entire audience, -and then amid shouts and hisses sat down at the piano and began to play -"Love Nest."</p> - -<p>Immediately the boys began to whistle, and as the comedy was utterly -stupid, they relieved their boredom by whistling the various tunes that -the pianist played until the miserable film flickered out.</p> - -<p>Then the "feature" and the fun began. During the stretches of pure -narrative, the boys whistled, but when there was any real action they -talked. The picture was a melodrama of "love and hate," as the -advertisement said.</p> - -<p>The boys told the actors what to do; they revealed to them the secrets -of the plot. "She's hiding behind the door, Harold. No, no! Not that -way. Hey, dumbbell—behind the door."... "Catch him, Gloria; he's only -shy!"... "No, that's not him!"</p> - -<p>The climactic fight brought shouts of encouragement—to the villain. -"Kill him!"... "Shoot one to his kidneys!"... "Ahhhhh," as the villain -hit the hero in the stomach.... "Muss his hair. Attaboy!"... "Kill the -skunk!" And finally groans of despair when the hero won his inevitable -victory.</p> - -<p>But it was the love scenes that aroused the greatest ardor and joy. The -hero was given careful instructions. "Some neckin', Harold!"... "Kiss -her! Kiss her! Ahhh!"... "Harold, Harold, you're getting rough!"... -"She's vamping you, Harold!"... "Stop it; Gloria; he's a good boy." And -so on until the picture ended in the usual close-up of the hero and -heroine silhouetted in a tender embrace against the setting sun. The -boys breathed "Ahhhh" and "Ooooh" ecstatically—and laughed. The -meretricious melodrama did not fool them, but they delighted in its -absurdities.</p> - -<p>The lights flashed on and the crowd filed out, "wise-cracking" about the -picture and commenting favorably on the heroine's figure. There were -shouts to this fellow or that fellow to come on over and play bridge, -and suggestions here and there to go to a drug store and get a drink.</p> - -<p>Hugh and Carl strolled home over the dark campus, both of them radiant -with excitement, Hugh frankly so.</p> - -<p>"Golly, I did enjoy that," he exclaimed. "I never had a better time. It -was sure hot stuff. I don't want to go to the room; let's walk for a -while."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, it was pretty good," Carl admitted. "Nope, I can't go walking; -gotta write a letter."</p> - -<p>"Who to? The harem?"</p> - -<p>Carl hunched his shoulders until his ears touched his coat collar. -"Gettin' cold. Fall's here. Nope, not the harem. My old lady."</p> - -<p>Hugh looked at him bewildered. He was finding Carl more and more a -conundrum. He consistently called his mother his old lady, insisted that -she was a damned nuisance—and wrote to her every night. Hugh was -writing to his mother only twice a week. It was very confusing....</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h2>CHAPTER V</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Capwell Chapel—it bore the pork merchant's name as an eternal memorial -to him—was as impressive inside as out. The stained-glass windows had -been made by a famous New York firm; the altar had been designed by an -even more famous sculptor. The walls, quite improperly, were adorned -with paintings of former presidents, but the largest painting of all—it -was fairly Gargantuan—was of the pork merchant, a large, ruddy -gentleman, whom the artist, a keen observer, had painted -truly—complacently porcine, benevolently smug.</p> - -<p>The seniors and juniors sat in the nave, the sophomores on the right -side of the transept, the freshmen on the left. Hugh gazed upward in awe -at the dim recesses of the vaulted ceiling, at the ornately carved choir -where gowned students were quietly seating themselves, at the colored -light streaming through the beautiful windows, at the picture of the -pork merchant. The chapel bells ceased tolling; rich, solemn tones -swelled from the organ.</p> - -<p>President Culver in cap and gown, his purple hood falling over his -shoulders, entered followed by his faculty, also gowned and hooded. The -students rose and remained standing until the president and faculty were -seated. The organ sounded a final chord, and then the college chaplain -rose and prayed—very badly. He implored the Lord to look kindly "on -these young men who have come from near and far to drink from this great -fount of learning, this well of wisdom."</p> - -<p>The prayer over, the president addressed the students. He was a large, -erect man with iron-gray hair and a rugged intelligent face. Although he -was sixty years old, his body was vigorous and free from extra weight. -He spoke slowly and impressively, choosing his words with care and -enunciating them with great distinctness. His address was for the -freshmen: he welcomed them to Sanford College, to its splendid -traditions, its high ideals, its noble history. He spoke of the famous -men it numbered among its sons, of the work they had done for America -and the world, of the work he hoped future Sanford men, they, the -freshmen, would some day do for America and the world. He mentioned -briefly the boys from Sanford who had died in the World War "to make the -world safe for democracy," and he prayed that their sacrifice had not -been in vain. Finally, he spoke of the chapel service, which the -students were required to attend. He hoped that they would find -inspiration in it, knowledge and strength. He assured them that the -service would always be nonsectarian, that there would never be anything -in it to offend any one of any race, creed, or religion. With a last -exhortation to the freshmen to make the most of their great -opportunities, he ended with the announcement that they would rise and -sing the sixty-seventh hymn.</p> - -<p>Hugh was deeply impressed by the speech but disturbed by the students. -From where he sat he got an excellent view of the juniors and seniors. -The seniors, who sat in the front of the nave, seemed to be paying -fairly good attention; but the juniors—many of them, at least—paid no -attention at all. Some of them were munching apples, some doughnuts, and -many of them were reading "The Sanford News," the college's daily paper. -Some of the juniors talked during the president's address, and once he -noticed four of them doubled up as if overcome by laughter. To him the -service was a beautiful and impressive occasion. He could not understand -the conduct of the upper-classmen. It seemed, to put it mildly, -irreverent.</p> - -<p>Every one, however, sang the doxology with great vigor, some of the boys -lifting up a "whisky" tenor that made the chapel ring, and to which Hugh -happily added his own clear tenor. The benediction was pronounced by the -chaplain, the seniors marched out slowly in twos, while the other -students and the faculty stood in their places; then the president, -followed by the faculty, passed out of the great doors. When the back of -the last faculty gown had disappeared, the under-classmen broke for the -door, pushing each other aside, swearing when a toe was stepped on, -yelling to each other, some of them joyously chanting the doxology. Hugh -was caught in the rush and carried along with the mob, feeling ashamed -and distressed; this was no way to leave a church.</p> - -<p>Once outside, however, he had no time to think of the chapel service; he -had five minutes in which to get to his first class, and the building -was across the campus, a good two minutes' walk. He patted his cap to be -sure that it was firmly on the back of his head, clutched his note-book, -and ran as hard as he could go, the strolling upper-classmen, whom he -passed at top speed, grinning after him in tolerant amusement.</p> - -<p>Hugh was the first one in the class-room and wondered in a moment of -panic if he was in the right place. He sat down dubiously and looked at -his watch. Four minutes left. He would wait two, and then if nobody came -he would—he gasped; he couldn't imagine what he would do. How could he -find the right class-room? Maybe his class didn't come at this hour at -all. Suppose he and Carl had made a mistake. If they had, his whole -schedule was probably wrong. "Oh, golly," he thought, feeling pitifully -weak, "won't that be hell? What can I do?"</p> - -<p>At that moment a countrified-looking youth entered, looking as scared as -Hugh felt. His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he asked -timidly, "Do you know if this is Section Three of Math One?"</p> - -<p>Hugh was immediately strengthened. "I think so," he replied. "Anyhow, -let's wait and find out."</p> - -<p>The freshman sighed in huge relief, took out a not too clean -handkerchief, and mopped his face. "Criminy!" he exclaimed as he -wriggled down the aisle to a seat by Hugh, "I was sure worried. I -thought I was in the wrong building, though I was sure that my adviser -had told me positively that Math was in Matthew Six."</p> - -<p>"I guess we're all right," Hugh comforted him as two other freshmen, -also looking dubious, entered. They were followed by four more, and then -by a stampeding group, all of them pop-eyed, all of them in a rush. In -the next minute five freshmen dashed in and then dashed out again, -utterly bewildered, obviously terrified, and not knowing where to go or -what to do. "Is this Math One, Section Three?" every man demanded of the -room as he entered; and every one yelled, "Yes," or, "I think so."</p> - -<p>Just as the bell rang at ten minutes after the hour, the instructor -entered. It was Professor Kane.</p> - -<p>"This is Mathematics One, Section Three," Kane announced in a dry voice. -"If there is any one here who does not belong here, he will please -leave." Nobody moved; so he shuffled some cards in his hand and asked -the men to answer to the roll-call.</p> - -<p>"Adams, J. H."</p> - -<p>"Present, sir."</p> - -<p>Kane looked up and frowned. "Say 'here,'" he said severely. "This is not -a grammar-school."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," stuttered Adams, his face first white then purple. "Here, -sir."</p> - -<p>"'Here' will do; there is no need of the 'sir.' Allsop, K. E."</p> - -<p>"Here"—in a very faint voice.</p> - -<p>"Speak up!"</p> - -<p>"Here." This time a little louder.</p> - -<p>And so it went, hardly a man escaping without some admonishment. Hugh's -throat went dry; his tongue literally stuck to the roof of his mouth: he -was sure that he wouldn't be able to say "Here" when it came his turn, -and he could feel his heart pounding in dreadful anticipation.</p> - -<p>"Carver, H. M."</p> - -<p>"Here!"</p> - -<p>There! it was out! Or had he really said it?</p> - -<p>He looked at the professor in terror, but Kane was already calling, -"Dana, R. T." Hugh sank back in his chair; he was trembling.</p> - -<p>Kane announced the text-book, and when Hugh caught the word -"trigonometry" he actually thrilled with joy. He had had trig in high -school. Whoops! Would he hit Math I in the eye? He'd knock it for a -goal.... Then conscience spoke. Oughtn't he to tell Kane that he had -already had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood -his high-school credentials, which had given him credit for "advanced -mathematics." Kane had taken it for granted that that was advanced -algebra. Hugh felt that he ought to explain the mistake, but fear of the -arid, impersonal man restrained him. Kane had told him to take Math I; -and Kane was law.</p> - -<p>Unlike most of Hugh's instructors, Kane kept the class the full hour the -first day, seating them in alphabetical order—he had to repeat the -performance three times during the week as new men entered the -class—lecturing them on the need of doing their problems carefully and -accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonometry in -particular, in the study of science and engineering. Hugh was not -interested in science, engineering, or mathematics, but he listened -carefully, trying hard to follow Kane's cold discourse. At the end of -the hour he told his neighbor as they left the room that he guessed that -Professor Kane knew an awful lot, and his neighbor agreed with him.</p> - -<p>Hugh's other instructors proved less impressive than Kane; in fact, Mr. -Alling, the instructor in Latin, was altogether disconcerting.</p> - -<p>"Plautus," he told the class, "wrote comedies, farces—not exercises in -translation. He was also, my innocents, occasionally naughty—oh, really -naughty. What's worse, he used slang, common every-day slang—the kind -of stuff that you and I talk. Now, I have an excellent vocabulary of -slang, obscenity, and profanity; and you are going to hear most of it. -Think of the opportunity. Don't think that I mean just 'damn' and -'hell.' They are good for a laugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was -not restrained by our modern conventions. <i>You</i> will confine yourselves, -please, to English undefiled, but I shall speak the modern equivalent to -a Roman gutter-pup's language whenever necessary. You will find this -course very illuminating—in some ways. And, who knows? you may learn -something not only about Latin but about Rome."</p> - -<p>Hugh thought Mr. Alling was rather flippant and lacking in dignity. -Professor Kane was more like a college teacher. Before the term was out -he hated Kane with an intensity that astonished him, and he looked -forward to his Latin classes with an eagerness of which he was almost -ashamed. Plautus in the Alling free and colloquial translations was -enormously funny.</p> - -<p>Professor Hartley, who gave the history lectures, talked in a bass -monotone and never seemed to pause for breath. His words came in a slow -steady stream that never rose nor fell nor paused—until the bell rang. -The men in the back of the room slept. Hugh was seated near the front; -so he drew pictures in his note-book. The English instructor talked -about punctuation as if it were very unpleasant but almost religiously -important; and what the various lecturers in general science talked -about—ten men gave the course—Hugh never knew. In after years all that -he could remember about the course was that one man spoke broken English -and that a professor of physics had made huge bulbs glow with marvelous -colors.</p> - -<p>Hugh had one terrifying experience before he finally got settled to his -work. It occurred the second day of classes. He was comfortably seated -in what he thought was his English class—he had come in just as the -bell rang—when the instructor announced that it was a class in French. -What was he to do? What would the instructor do if he got up and left -the room? What would happen if he didn't report at his English class? -What would happen to him for coming into his English class late? These -questions staggered his mind. He was afraid to stay in the French class. -Cautiously he got up and began to tiptoe to the door.</p> - -<p>"Wrong room?" the instructor asked pleasantly.</p> - -<p>Hugh flushed. "Yes, sir." He stopped dead still, not knowing what to do -next.</p> - -<p>He was a typical rattled freshman, and the class, which was composed of -sophomores, laughed. Hugh, angry and humiliated, started for the door, -but the instructor held up a hand that silenced the class; then he -motioned for Hugh to come to his desk.</p> - -<p>"What class are you looking for?"</p> - -<p>"English One, sir, Section Seven." He held out his schedule card, -reassured by the instructor's kindly manner.</p> - -<p>The instructor looked at the card and then consulted a printed schedule.</p> - -<p>"Oh," he said, "your adviser made a mistake. He got you into the wrong -group list. You belong in Sanders Six."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir." Hugh spoke so softly that the waiting class did not -hear him, but the instructor smiled at the intensity of his thanks. As -he left the room, he knew that every one was looking at him; his legs -felt as if they were made of wood. It wasn't until he had closed the -door that his knee-joints worked naturally. But the worst was still -ahead of him. He had to go to his English class in Sanders 6. He ran -across the campus, his heart beating wildly, his hands desperately -clenched. When he reached Sanders 6, he found three other freshmen -grouped before the door.</p> - -<p>"Is this English One, Section Seven?" one asked tremulously.</p> - -<p>"I think so," whispered the second. "Do you know?" he asked, turning to -Hugh.</p> - -<p>"Yes; I am almost sure."</p> - -<p>They stood there looking at each other, no one quite daring to enter -Sanders 6, no one quite daring to leave. Suddenly the front door of the -building slammed. A bareheaded youth rushed up the stairs. He was a -repeater; that is, a man who had failed the course the preceding year -and was taking it over again. He brushed by the scared freshmen, opened -the door, and strode into Sanders 6, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p>The freshmen looked at each other, and then the one nearest the door -opened it. The four of them filed in silently.</p> - -<p>The class looked up. "Sit in the back of the room," said the instructor.</p> - -<p>And that was all there was to that. In his senior year Hugh remembered -the incident and wondered at his terror. He tried to remember why he had -been so badly frightened. He couldn't; there didn't seem to be any -reason at all.</p> -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="flannels" id="flannels" href="images/036.jpg"> - <img src="images/036-tb.jpg" alt="'LOOK! FLANNELS FOR MAMMA'S BOY!'" width="566" /></a> - <p>"look! flannels for mamma's boy!"</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> -<br /> - -<p>About a week after the opening of college, Hugh returned to Surrey Hall -one night feeling unusually virtuous and happy. He had worked -religiously at the library until it had closed at ten, and he had been -in the mood to study. His lessons for the next day were all prepared, -and prepared well. He had strolled across the moon-lit campus, buoyant -and happy. Some one was playing the organ in the dark chapel; he paused -to listen. Two students passed him, humming softly,</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Sanford, Sanford, mother of men,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Love us, guard us, hold us true...."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>The dormitories were dim masses broken by rectangles of soft yellow -light. Somewhere a banjo twanged. Another student passed.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Carver," he said pleasantly. "Nice night."</p> - -<p>"Oh, hello, Jones. It sure is."</p> - -<p>The simple greeting completed his happiness. He felt that he belonged, -that Sanford, the "mother of men," had taken him to her heart. The music -in the chapel swelled, lyric, passionate—up! up! almost a cry. The -moonlight was golden between the heavy shadows of the elms. Tears came -into the boy's eyes; he was melancholy with joy.</p> - -<p>He climbed the stairs of Surrey slowly, reluctant to reach his room and -Carl's flippancy. He passed an open door and glanced at the men inside -the room.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Hugh. Come in and bull a while."</p> - -<p>"Not to-night, thanks." He moved on down the hall, feeling a vague -resentment; his mood had been broken, shattered.</p> - -<p>The door opposite his own room was slightly open. A freshman lived -there, Herbert Morse, a queer chap with whom Carl and Hugh had succeeded -in scraping up only the slightest acquaintance. He was a big fellow, -fully six feet, husky and quick. The football coach said that he had the -makings of a great half-back, but he had already been fired off the -squad because of his irregularity in reporting for practice. Except for -what the boys called his stand-offishness—some of them said that he was -too damned high-hat—he was extremely attractive. He had red, almost -copper-colored, hair, and an exquisite skin, as delicate as a child's. -His features were well carved, his nose slightly aquiline—a magnificent -looking fellow, almost imperious; or as Hugh once said to Carl, "Morse -looks kinda noble."</p> - -<p>As Hugh placed his hand on the door-knob of No 19, he heard something -that sounded suspiciously like a sob from across the hall. He paused and -listened. He was sure that he could hear some one crying.</p> - -<p>"Wonder what's wrong," he thought, instantly disturbed and sympathetic.</p> - -<p>He crossed the hall and tapped lightly on Morse's door. There was no -answer; nor was there any when he tapped a second time. For a moment he -was abashed, and then he pushed open the door and entered Morse's room.</p> - -<p>In the far corner Morse was sitting at his, desk, his head buried in his -arms, his shoulders shaking. He was crying fiercely, terribly; at times -his whole body jerked in the violence of his sobbing.</p> - -<p>Hugh stood by the door embarrassed and rather frightened. Morse's grief -brought a lump to his throat. He had never seen any one cry like that -before. Something had to be done. But what could he do? He had no right -to intrude on Morse, but he couldn't let the poor fellow go on suffering -like that. As he stood there hesitant, shaken, Morse buried his head -deeper in his arms, moaned convulsively, twisting and trembling after a -series of sobs that seemed to tear themselves from him. That was too -much for Hugh. He couldn't stand it. Some force outside of him sent him -across the room to Morse. He put his hand on a quivering shoulder and -said gently:</p> - -<p>"What is it, Morse? What's the matter?"</p> - -<p>Morse ran his hand despairingly through his red hair, shook his head, -and made no answer.</p> - -<p>"Come on, old man; buck up." Hugh's voice trembled; it was husky with -sympathy. "Tell me about it. Maybe I can help."</p> - -<p>Then Morse looked up, his face stained with tears, his eyes inflamed, -almost desperate. He stared at Hugh wonderingly. For an instant he was -angry at the intrusion, but his anger passed at once. He could not miss -the tenderness and sympathy in Hugh's face; and the boy's hand was still -pressing with friendly insistence on his shoulder. There was something -so boyishly frank, so clean and honest about Hugh that his irritation -melted into confidence; and he craved a confidant passionately.</p> - -<p>"Shut the door," he said dully, and reached into his trousers pocket for -his handkerchief. He mopped his face and eyes vigorously while Hugh was -closing the door, and then blew his nose as if he hated it. But the -tears continued to come, and all during his talk with Hugh he had to -pause occasionally to dry his eyes.</p> - -<p>Hugh stood awkwardly in the middle of the rug, not knowing whether to -sit down or not. Morse was clutching his handkerchief in his hand and -staring at the floor. Finally he spoke up.</p> - -<p>"Sit down," he said in a dead voice, "there."</p> - -<p>Hugh sank into the chair Morse indicated and then gripped his hands -together. He felt weak and frightened, and absolutely unable to say -anything. But Morse saved him the trouble.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you think I am an awful baby," he began, his voice thick with -tears, "but I just can't help it. I—I just can't help it. I don't want -to cry, but I do." And then he added defiantly, "Go ahead and think I'm -a baby if you want to."</p> - -<p>"I don't think you're a baby," Hugh said softly; "I'm just sorry; that's -all.... I hope I can help." He smiled shyly, hopefully.</p> - -<p>His smile conquered Morse. "You're a good kid, Carver," he cried -impulsively. "A darn good kid. I like you, and I'm going to tell you all -about it. And I—I—I won't care if you laugh."</p> - -<p>"I won't laugh," Hugh promised, relieved to think that there was a -possibility of laughing. The trouble couldn't be so awfully bad.</p> - -<p>Morse blew his nose, stuck his handkerchief into his pocket, pulled it -out again and dabbed his eyes, returned it to his pocket, and suddenly -stood up.</p> - -<p>"I'm homesick!" he blurred out. "I'm—I'm homesick, damned homesick. -I've been homesick ever since I arrived. I—I just can't stand it."</p> - -<p>For an instant Hugh did have a wild desire to laugh. Part of the desire -was caused by nervous relief, but part of it was caused by what seemed -to him the absurdity of the situation: a big fellow like Morse -blubbering, bawling for home and mother!</p> - -<p>"You can't know," Morse went on, "how awful it is—awful! I want to cry -all the time. I can't listen in classes. A prof asked me a question -to-day, and I didn't know what he had been talking about. He asked me -what he had said. I had to say I didn't know. The whole class laughed, -and the prof asked me why I had come to college. God! I nearly died."</p> - -<p>Hugh's sympathy was all captured again. He knew that he <i>would</i> die if -he ever made a fool of himself in the class-room.</p> - -<p>"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "What did you say?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. For a minute I thought that my -head was going to bust. He quit razzing me and I tried to pay attention, -but I couldn't; all I could do was think of home. Lord! I wish I was -there!" He mopped at his eyes and paced up and down the room nervously.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you'll get over that," Hugh said comfortingly. "Pretty soon you'll -get to know lots of fellows, and then you won't mind about home."</p> - -<p>"That's what I keep telling myself, but it don't work. I can't eat or -sleep. I can't study. I can't do anything. I tell you I've got to go -home. I've <i>got</i> to!" This last with desperate emphasis.</p> - -<p>Hugh smiled. "You're all wrong," he asserted positively. "You're just -lonely; that's all. I bet that you'll be crazy about college in a -month—same as the rest of us. When you feel blue, come in and see -Peters and me. We'll make you grin; Peters will, anyway. You can't be -blue around him."</p> - -<p>Morse sat down. "You don't understand. I'm not lonely. It isn't that. I -could talk to fellows all day long if I wanted to. I don't want to talk -to 'em. I can't. There's just one person that I want to talk to, and -that's my mother." He shot the word "mother" out defiantly and glared at -Hugh, silently daring him to laugh, which Hugh had sense enough not to -do, although he wanted to strongly. The great big baby, wanting his -mother! Why, he wanted his mother, too, but he didn't cry about it.</p> - -<p>"That's all right," he said reassuringly; "you'll see her Christmas -vacation, and that isn't very long off."</p> - -<p>"I want to see her now!" Morse jumped to his feet and raised his -clenched hands above his head. "Now!" he roared. "Now! I've got to. I'm -going home on the midnight." He whirled about to his desk and began to -pull open the drawers, piling their contents on the top.</p> - -<p>"Here!" Hugh rushed to him and clutched his arms. "Don't do that." Morse -struggled, angry at the restraining hands, ready to strike them off. -Hugh had a flash of inspiration. "Think how disappointed your mother -will be," he cried, hanging on to Morse's arms; "think of her."</p> - -<p>Morse ceased struggling. "She will be disappointed," he admitted -miserably. "What can I do?" There was a world of despair in his -question.</p> - -<p>Hugh pushed him into the desk-chair and seated himself on the edge of -the desk. "I'll tell you," he said. He talked for half an hour, cheering -Morse, assuring him that his homesickness would pass away, offering to -study with him. At first Morse paid little attention, but finally he -quit sniffing and looked up, real interest in his face. When Hugh got a -weak smile out of him, he felt that his work had been done. He jumped -off the desk, leaned over to slap Morse on the back, and told him that -he was a good egg but a damn fool.</p> - -<p>Morse grinned. "You're a good egg yourself," he said gratefully. "You've -saved my life."</p> - -<p>Hugh was pleased and blushed. "You're full of bull.... Remember, we do -Latin at ten to-morrow." He opened the door. "Good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night." And Hugh heard as he closed the door. "Thanks a lot."</p> - -<p>When he opened his own door, he found Carl sitting before a blazing log -fire. There was no other light in the room. Carl had written his nightly -letter to the "old lady," and he was a little homesick -himself—softened into a tender and pensive mood. He did not move as -Hugh sat down in a big chair on the other side of the hearth and said -softly, "Thinking?"</p> - -<p>"Un-huh. Where you been?"</p> - -<p>"Across the hall in Morse's room." Then as Carl looked up in surprise, -he told him of his experience with their red-headed neighbor. "He'll get -over it," he concluded confidently. "He's just been lonely."</p> - -<p>Carl puffed contemplatively at his pipe for a few minutes before -replying. Hugh waited, watching the slender boy stretched out in a big -chair before the fire, his ankles crossed, his face gentle and boyish in -the ruddy, flickering light. The shadows, heavy and wavering, played -magic with the room; it was vast, mysterious.</p> - -<p>"No," said Carl, pausing again to puff his pipe; "no, he won't get over -it. He'll go home."</p> - -<p>"Aw, shucks. A big guy like that isn't going to stay a baby all his -life." Hugh was frankly derisive. "Soon as he gets to know a lot of -fellows, he'll forget home and mother."</p> - -<p>Carl smiled vaguely, his eyes dreamy as he gazed into the hypnotizing -flames. The mask of sophistication had slipped off his face; he was -pleasantly in the control of a gentle mood, a mood that erased the last -vestige of protective coloring.</p> - -<p>He shook his head slowly. "You don't understand, Hugh. Morse is sick, -<i>sick</i>—not lonesome. He's got something worse than flu. Nobody can -stand what he's got."</p> - -<p>Hugh looked at him in bewilderment. This was a new Carl, some one he -hadn't met before. Gone was the slang flippancy, the hard roughness. -Even his voice was softened.</p> - -<p>Carl knocked his pipe empty on the knob of an andiron, sank deeper into -his chair, and began to speak slowly.</p> - -<p>"I think I'm going to tell you a thing or two about myself. We've got to -room together, and I—well, I like you. You're a good egg, but you don't -get me at all. I guess you've never run up against anybody like me -before." He paused. Hugh said nothing, afraid to break into Carl's mood. -He was intensely curious. He leaned forward and watched Carl, who was -staring dreamily into the fire.</p> - -<p>"I told you once, I think," he continued, "that my old man had left us a -lot of jack. That's true. We're rich, awfully rich. I have my own -account and can spend as much as I like. The sky's the limit. What I -didn't tell you is that we're <i>nouveau riche</i>—no class at all. My old -man made all his money the first year of the war. He was a -commission-merchant, a middleman. Money just rolled in, I guess. He -bought stocks with it, and they boomed; and he had sense enough to sell -them when they were at the top. Six years ago we didn't have hardly -anything. Now we're rich."</p> - -<p>"My old man was a good scout, but he didn't have much education; neither -has the old lady. Both of 'em went through grammar-school; that's all."</p> - -<p>"Well, they knew they weren't real folks, not regular people, and they -wanted me to be. See? That's why they sent me to Kane. Well, Kane isn't -strong for <i>nouveau riche</i> kids, not by a damn sight. At first old -Simmonds—he's the head master—wouldn't take me, said that he didn't -have room; but my old man begged and begged, so finally Simmonds said -all right."</p> - -<p>Again he paused, and Hugh waited. Carl was speaking so softly that he -had trouble in hearing him, but somehow he didn't dare to ask him to -speak louder.</p> - -<p>"I sha'n't forget the day," Carl went on, "that the old man left me at -Kane. I was scared, and I didn't want to stay. But he made me; he said -that Kane would make a gentleman out of me. I was homesick, homesick as -hell. I know how Morse feels. I tried to run away three times, but they -caught me and brought me back. Cry? I bawled all the time when I was -alone. I couldn't sleep for weeks; I just laid in bed and bawled. God! -it was awful. The worst of it was the meals. I didn't know how to eat -right, you see, and the master who sat at the table with our form would -correct me. I used to want to die, and sometimes I would say that I was -sick and didn't want any food so that I wouldn't have to go to meals. -The fellows razzed the life out of me; some of 'em called me Paddy. The -reason I came here to Sanford was that no Kane fellows come here. They -go mostly to Williams, but some of 'em go to Yale or Princeton.</p> - -<p>"Well, I had four years of that, and I was homesick the whole four -years. Oh, I don't mean that they kept after me all the time—that was -just the first few months—but they never really accepted me. I never -felt at home. Even when I was with a bunch of them, I felt lonesome.... -And they never made a gentleman out of me, though my old lady thinks -they did."</p> - -<p>"You're crazy," Hugh interrupted indignantly. "You're as much a -gentleman as anybody in college."</p> - -<p>Carl smiled and shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You're a -gentleman, but I'm not. Oh, I know all the tricks, the parlor stunts. -Four years at Kane taught me those, but they're just tricks to me. I -don't know just how to explain it—but I know that you're a gentleman -and I'm not."</p> - -<p>"You're just plain bug-house. You make me feel like a fish. Why, I'm -just from a country high school. I'm not in your class." Hugh sat up -and leaned eagerly toward Carl, gesticulating excitedly.</p> - -<p>"As if that made any difference," Carl replied, his voice sharp with -scorn. "You see, I'm a bad egg. I drink and gamble and pet. I haven't -gone the limit yet on—on account of my old lady—but I will."</p> - -<p>Hugh was relieved. He had wondered more than once during the past week -"just how far Carl had gone." Several times Carl had suggested by sly -innuendos that there wasn't anything that he hadn't done, and Hugh had -felt a slight disapproval—and considerable envy. His own standards were -very high, very strict, but he was ashamed to reveal them.</p> - -<p>"I've never gone the limit either," he confessed shyly.</p> - -<p>Carl threw back his head and laughed. "You poor fish; don't you suppose -I know that?" he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"How did you know?" Hugh demanded indignantly. "I might've. Why, I was -out with a girl just before I left home and—"</p> - -<p>"You kissed her," Carl concluded for him. "I don't know how I knew, but -I did. You're just kinda pure; that's all. I'm not pure at all; I'm just -a little afraid—and I keep thinkin' of my old lady. I've started to -several times, but I've always thought of her and quit."</p> - -<p>He sat silent for a minute or two and then continued more gently. "My -old lady never came to Kane. She never will come here, either. She wants -to give me a real chance. See? She knows she isn't a lady—but—but, oh, -God, Hugh, she's white, white as hell. I guess I think more of her than -all the rest of the world put together. That's why I write to her every -night. She writes to me every day, too. The letters have mistakes in -them, but—but they keep me straight. That is, they have so far. I know, -though, that some night I'll be out with a bag and get too much liquor -in me—and then good-by, virginity."</p> - -<p>"You're crazy, Carl. You know you won't." Carl rose from the chair and -stretched hugely. "You're a good egg, Hugh," he said in the midst of a -yawn, "but you're a damn fool."</p> - -<p>Hugh started. That was just what he had said to Morse.</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>He never caught Carl in a confidential mood again. The next morning he -was his old flippant self, swearing because he had to study his Latin, -which wasn't "of any damned use to anybody."</p> - -<p>In the following weeks Hugh religiously clung to Morse, helped him with -his work, went to the movies with him, inveigled him into going on -several long walks. Morse was more cheerful and almost pathetically -grateful. One day, however, Hugh found an unstamped letter on the -floor. He opened it wonderingly.</p> - -<p class="blkquot"> -Dear Hugh [he read]. You've been awfully good -to me but I can't stand it. I'm going home to-day. Give -my regards to Peters. Thanks for all you've done for -me.<br /> - -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>BERT MORSE.</span></p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="liquid" id="liquid" href="images/044.jpg"> - <img src="images/044-tb.jpg" alt="'COME ON--I KNOW WHERE THERE'S LIQUID REFRESHMENT!'" width="562" /></a> - <p>"come on—i know where there's liquid refreshment!"</p> -</div> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>For a moment after reading Morse's letter Hugh was genuinely sorry, but -almost immediately he felt irritated and hurt.</p> - -<p>He handed the letter to Carl, who entered just as he finished reading -it, and exploded: "The simp! And after I wasted so much time on him."</p> - -<p>Carl read the letter. "I told you so." He smiled impishly. "You were the -wise boy; you <i>knew</i> that he would get over it."</p> - -<p>Hugh should really have felt grateful to Morse. It was only a feeling of -responsibility for him that had made Hugh prepare his own lessons. Day -after day he had studied with Morse in order to cheer him up; and that -was all the studying he had done. Latin and history had little -opportunity to claim his interest in competition with the excitement -around him.</p> - -<p>Crossing the campus for the first few weeks of college was an adventure -for every freshman. He did not know when he would be seized by a howling -group of sophomores and forced to make an ass of himself for their -amusement. Sometimes he was required to do "esthetic dancing," sometimes -to sing, or, what was more common, to make a speech. And no matter how -hard he tried, the sophomores were never pleased. If he danced, they -laughed at him, guyed him unmercifully, called attention to his legs, -his awkwardness, urged him to go faster, insisted that he get some -"pash" into it. If he sang, and the frightened freshman usually sang off -key, they interrupted him after a few notes, told him to sing something -else, interrupted that, and told him "for God's sake" to dance. The -speech-making, however, provided the most fun, especially if the -freshman was cleverer than his captors. Then there was a battle of wits, -and if the freshman too successfully defeated his opponents, he was -dropped into a watering-trough that had stood on the campus for more -than a century. Of justice there was none, but of sport there was a -great plenty. The worst scared of the freshmen really enjoyed the -experience. By a strange sort of inverted logic, he felt that he was -something of a hero; at least, for a brief time he had occupied the -public eye. He had been initiated; he was a Sanford man.</p> - -<p>One freshman, however, found those two weeks harrowing. That was Merton -Billings, the fat man of the class. Day after day he was captured by the -sophomores and commanded to dance. He was an earnest youth and entirely -without a sense of humor. Dancing to him was not only hard work but -downright wicked. He was a member of the Epworth League, and he took his -membership seriously. Even David, he remembered, had "got in wrong" -because he danced; and he had no desire to emulate David. Within two -days the sophomores discovered his religious ardor, his horror of -drinking, smoking, and dancing. So they made him dance while they howled -with glee at his bobbing stomach; his short, staggering legs; his red -jowls, jigging and jouncing; his pale blue eyes, protruding excitedly -from their sockets; his lips pressed tight together, periodically -popping open for breath. He was very funny, very angry, and very much -ashamed. Every night he prayed that he might be forgiven his sin. A -month later when the intensity of his hatred had subsided somewhat, he -remembered to his horror that he had not prayed that his tormentors be -forgiven their even greater sin. He rectified the error without delay, -not neglecting to ask that the error be forgiven, too.</p> - -<p>Hugh was forced to sing, to dance, and to make a speech, but he escaped -the watering-trough. He thought the fellows were darned nice to let him -off, and they thought that he was too darned nice to be ducked. Although -Hugh didn't suspect it, he was winning immediate popularity. His shy, -friendly smile, his natural modesty, and his boyish enthusiasm were -making a host of friends for him. He liked the "initiations" on the -campus, but he did not like some of them in the dormitories. He didn't -mind being pulled out of bed and shoved under a cold shower. He took a -cold shower every morning, and if the sophomores wanted to give him -another one at night—all right, he was willing. He had to confess that -"Eliza Crossing the Ice" had been enormous fun. The freshmen were -commanded to appear in the common room in their oldest clothes. Then all -of them, the smallest lad excepted, got down on their hands and knees, -forming a circle. The smallest lad, "Eliza," was given a big bucket full -of water. He jumped upon the back of the man nearest to him and ran -wildly around the circle, leaping from back to back, the bucket swinging -crazily, the water splashing in every direction and over everybody.</p> - -<p>Hugh liked such "stunts," and he liked putting on a show with three -other freshmen for the amusement of their peers, but he did object to -the vulgarity and cruelty of much that was done.</p> - -<p>The first order the sophomores often gave was, "Strip, freshman." Just -why the freshmen had to be naked before they performed, Hugh did not -know, but there was something phallic about the proceedings that -disgusted him. Like every athlete, he thought nothing of nudity, but he -soon discovered that some of the freshmen were intensely conscious of -it. True, a few months in the gymnasium cured them of that -consciousness, but at first many of them were eternally wrapping towels -about themselves in the gymnasium, and they took a shower as if it were -an act of public shame. The sophomores recognized the timidity that some -of the freshmen had in revealing their bodies, and they made full -capital of it. The shyer the freshman, the more pointed their remarks, -the more ingeniously nasty their tricks.</p> - -<p>"I don't mind the razzing myself," Hugh told Carl after one particularly -strenuous evening, "but I don't like the things they said to poor little -Wilkins. And when they stripped 'em and made Wilkins read that dirty -story to Culver, I wanted to fight"</p> - -<p>"It was kinda rotten," Carl agreed, "but it was funny."</p> - -<p>"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh said angrily.</p> - -<p>Carl looked at him in surprise. It was the first time that he had seen -him aroused.</p> - -<p>"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh repeated; "it was just filthy. I'd 'a' -just about died if I'd 'a' been in Wilkins's place. The poor kid! -They're too damn dirty, these sophomores. I didn't think that college -men could be so dirty. Why, not even the bums at home would think of -such things. And I'm telling you right now that there are three of those -guys that I'm layin' for. Just wait till the class rush. I'm going to -get Adams, and then I'm going to get Cooper—yes, I'm going to get him -even if he is bigger'n me—and I'm going to get Dodge. I didn't say -anything when they made me wash my face in the toilet bowl, but, by God! -I'm going to get 'em for it."</p> - -<p>Three weeks later he made good this threat. He was a clever boxer, and -he succeeded in separating each of the malefactors from the fighting -mob. He would have been completely nonplussed if he could have heard -Adams and Dodge talking in their room after the rush.</p> - -<p>"Who gave you the black eye?" Adams asked Dodge.</p> - -<p>"That freshman Carver," he replied, touching the eye gingerly. "Who gave -you that welt on the chin?"</p> - -<p>"Carver! And, say, he beat Hi Cooper to a pulp. He's a mess."</p> - -<p>They looked at each other and burst out laughing.</p> - -<p>"Lord," said Dodge, "I'm going to pick my freshmen next time. Who'd take -a kid with a smile like his to be a scrapper? He's got the nicest smile -in college. Why, he looks meek as a lamb."</p> - -<p>"You never can tell," remarked Adams, rubbing his chin ruefully.</p> - -<p>Dodge was examining his eye in the mirror. "No, you never can tell.... -Damn it, I'm going to have to get a beefsteak or something for this lamp -of mine."</p> - -<p>"Say, he ought to be a good man for the fraternity," Adams said -suddenly.</p> - -<p>"Who?" Dodge's eye was absorbing his entire attention.</p> - -<p>"Carver, of course. He ought to make a damn good man."</p> - -<p>"Yeah—you bet. We've got to rush him sure."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p>The dormitory initiations had more than angered Hugh; they had -completely upset his mental equilibrium: his every ideal of college -swayed and wabbled. He wasn't a prig, but he had come to Sanford with -very definite ideas about the place, and those ideas were already groggy -from the unmerciful pounding they were receiving.</p> - -<p>His father was responsible for his illusions, if one may call them -illusions. Mr. Carver was a shy, sensitive man well along in his -fifties, with a wife twelve years his junior. He pretended to cultivate -his small farm in Merrytown, but as a matter of fact he lived off of a -comfortable income left him by his very capable father. He spent most of -his time reading the eighteenth-century essayists, John Donne's poetry, -the "Atlantic Monthly," the "Boston Transcript," and playing Mozart on -his violin. He did not understand his wife and was thoroughly afraid of -his son; Hugh had an animal vigor that at times almost terrified him.</p> - -<p>At his wife's insistence he had a talk with Hugh the night before the -boy left for college. Hugh had wanted to run when he met his father in -the library after dinner for that talk. He loved the gentle, gray-haired -man with the fine, delicate features and soft voice. He had often wished -that he knew his father. Mr. Carver was equally eager to know Hugh, but -he had no idea of how to go about getting acquainted with his son.</p> - -<p>They sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, and Mr. Carver gazed -thoughtfully at the boy. Why hadn't Betty had this talk with Hugh? She -knew him so much better than he did; they were more like brother and -sister than mother and son. Why, Hugh called her Betty half the time, -and she seemed to understand him perfectly.</p> - -<p>Hugh waited silently. Mr. Carver ran a thin hand through his hair and -then sharply desisted; he mustn't let the boy know that he was nervous. -Then he settled his horn-rimmed pince-nez more firmly on his nose and -felt in his waistcoat for a cigar. Why didn't Hugh say something? He -snipped the end of the cigar with a silver knife. Slowly he lighted the -cigar, inhaled once or twice, coughed mildly, and finally found his -voice.</p> - -<p>"Well, Hugh," he said in his gentle way.</p> - -<p>"Well, Dad." Hugh grinned sheepishly. Then they both started; Hugh had -never called his father Dad before. He thought of him that way always, -but he could never bring himself to dare anything but the more formal -Father. In his embarrassment he had forgotten himself.</p> - -<p>"I—I—I'm sorry, sir," he stuttered, flushing painfully.</p> - -<p>Mr. Carver laughed to hide his own embarrassment. "That's all right, -Hugh." His smile was very kindly. "Let it be Dad. I think I like it -better."</p> - -<p>"That's fine!" Hugh exclaimed.</p> - -<p>The tension was broken, and Mr. Carver began to give the dreaded talk.</p> - -<p>"I hardly know what to say to you, Hugh," he began, "on the eve of your -going away to college. There is so much that you ought to know, and I -have no idea of how much you know already."</p> - -<p>Hugh thought of all the smutty stories he had heard—and told. -Instinctively he knew that his father referred to what a local doctor -called "the facts of life."</p> - -<p>He hung his head and said gruffly, "I guess I know a good deal—Dad."</p> - -<p>"That's splendid!" Mr. Carver felt the full weight of a father's -responsibilities lifted from his shoulders. "I believe Dr. Hanson gave -you a talk at school about—er, sex, didn't he?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir." Hugh was picking out the design in the rug with the toe of -his shoe and at the same time unconsciously pinching his leg. He pinched -so hard that he afterward found a black and blue spot, but he never -knew how it got there.</p> - -<p>"Excellent thing, excellent thing, these talks by medical men." He was -beginning to feel at ease. "Excellent thing. I am glad that you are so -well informed; you are old enough."</p> - -<p>Hugh wasn't well informed; he was pathetically ignorant. Most of what he -knew had come from the smutty stories, and he often did not understand -the stories that he laughed at most heartily. He was consumed with -curiosity.</p> - -<p>"If there is anything you want to know, don't hesitate to ask," his -father continued. He had a moment of panic lest Hugh would ask -something, but the boy merely shook his head—and pinched his leg.</p> - -<p>Mr. Carver puffed his cigar in great relief. "Well," he continued, "I -don't want to give you much advice, but your mother feels that I ought -to tell you a little more about college before you leave. As I have told -you before, Sanford is a splendid place, a—er, a splendid place. Fine -old traditions and all that sort of thing. Splendid place. You will find -a wonderful faculty, wonderful. Most of the professors I had are gone, -but I am sure that the new ones are quite as good. Your opportunities -will be enormous, and I am sure that you will take advantage of them. We -have been very proud of your high school record, your mother and I, and -we know that you will do quite as well in college. By the way, I hope -you take a course in the eighteenth-century essayists; you will find -them very stimulating—Addison especially.</p> - -<p>"I—er, your mother feels that I ought to say something about the -dissipations of college. I—I'm sure that I don't know what to say. I -suppose that there are young men in college who dissipate—remember that -I knew one or two—but certainly most of them are gentlemen. Crude -men—vulgarians do not commonly go to college. Vulgarity has no place in -college. You may, I presume, meet some men not altogether admirable, but -it will not be necessary for you to know them. Now, as to the -fraternity...."</p> - -<p>Hugh forgot to pinch his leg and looked up with avid interest in his -face. The Nu Deltas!</p> - -<p>Mr. Carver leaned forward to stir the fire with a brass poker before he -continued. Then he settled back in his chair and smoked comfortably. He -was completely at ease now. The worst was over.</p> - -<p>"I have written to the Nu Deltas about you and told them that I hoped -that they would find you acceptable, as I am sure they will. As a -legacy, you will be among the first considered." For an hour more he -talked about the fraternity. Hugh, his embarrassment swallowed by his -interest, eagerly asking questions. His father's admiration for the -fraternity was second only to his admiration for the college, and -before the evening was over he had filled Hugh with an idolatry for -both.</p> - -<p>He left his father that night feeling closer to him than he ever had -before. He was going to be a college man like his father—perhaps a Nu -Delta, too. He wished that they had got chummy before. When he went to -bed, he lay awake dreaming, thinking sometimes of Helen Simpson and of -how he had kissed her that afternoon, but more often of Sanford and Nu -Delta. He was so deeply grateful to his father for talking to him -frankly and telling him everything about college. He was darned lucky to -have a father who was a college grad and could put him wise. It was -pretty tough on the fellows whose fathers had never been to college. -Poor fellows, they didn't know the ropes the way he did....</p> - -<p>He finally fell off to sleep, picturing himself in the doorway of the Nu -Delta house welcoming his father to a reunion.</p> - -<p>That talk was returning to Hugh repeatedly. He wondered if Sanford had -changed since his father's day or if his father had just forgotten what -college was like. Everything seemed so different from what he had been -told to expect. Perhaps he was just soft and some of the fellows weren't -as crude as he thought they were.</p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="hotsy" id="hotsy" href="images/068.jpg"> - <img src="images/068-tb.jpg" alt="'THAT'S CYNTHIA DAY--A REAL HOTSY-TOTSY!'" width="569" /></a> - <p>"that's cynthia day—a real hotsy-totsy!"</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh was by no means continuously depressed; as a matter of fact, most -of the time he was agog with delight, especially over the rallies that -were occurring with increasing frequency as the football season -progressed. Sometimes the rallies were carefully prepared ceremonies -held in the gymnasium; sometimes they were entirely spontaneous.</p> - -<p>A group of men would rush out of a dormitory or fraternity house -yelling, "Peerade, peerade!" Instantly every one within hearing would -drop his books—or his cards—and rush to the yelling group, which would -line up in fours and begin circling the campus, the line ever getting -longer as more men came running out of the dormitories and fraternity -houses. On, on they would go, arm in arm, dancing, singing Sanford -songs, past every dormitory on the campus, past every fraternity -house—pausing occasionally to give a cheer, always, however, keeping -one goal in mind, the fraternity house where the team lived during the -football season. Then when the cheer-leaders and the team were heading -the procession, the mob would make for the football field, with the cry -of "Wood, freshmen, wood!" ringing down the line.</p> - -<p>Hugh was always one of the first freshmen to break from the line in his -eagerness to get wood. In an incredibly short time he and his classmates -had found a large quantity of old lumber, empty boxes, rotten planks, -and not very rotten gates. When a light was applied to the clumsy pile -of wood, the flames leaped up quickly—some one always seemed to have a -supply of kerosene ready—and revealed the excited upper-classmen -sitting on the bleachers.</p> - -<p>"Dance, freshmen, dance!"</p> - -<p>Then the freshmen danced around the fire, holding hands and spreading -into an ever widening circle as the fire crackled and the flames leaped -upward. Slowly, almost impressively, the upper-classmen chanted:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Round the fire, the freshmen go,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Freshmen go,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Freshmen go;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Round the fire the freshmen go</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>To cheer Sanford."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>The song had a dozen stanzas, only the last line of each being -different. The freshmen danced until the last verse was sung, which -ended with the Sanford cheer:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Closer now the freshmen go,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Freshmen go,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Freshmen go;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Closer now the freshmen go</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>To cheer—</span><br /> - -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>SANFORD!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Sanford! Rah, rah!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Sanford! Sanford!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>San—San—San—</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>San—ford, San—ford—San—FORD!"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>While the upper-classmen were singing the last stanza the freshmen -slowly closed in on the dying fire. At the first word of the cheer, they -stopped, turned toward the grand stand, and joined the cheering. That -over, they broke and ran for the bleachers, scrambling up the wooden -stands, shoving each other out of the way, laughing and shouting.</p> - -<p>The football captain usually made a short and very awkward speech, which -was madly applauded; perhaps the coach said a few words; two or three -cheers were given; and finally every one rose, took off his hat if he -wore one—nearly every one but the freshmen went bareheaded—and sang -the college hymn, simply and religiously. Then the crowd broke, -straggling in groups across the campus, chatting, singing, shouting to -each other. Suddenly lights began to flash in the dormitory windows. In -less than an hour after the first cry of "Peerade!" the men were back -in their rooms, once more studying, talking, or playing cards.</p> - -<p>It was the smoker rallies, though, that Hugh found the most thrilling, -especially the last one before the final game of the season, the "big -game" with Raleigh College. There were 1123 students in Sanford, and -more than 1000 were at the rally. A rough platform had been built at one -end of the gymnasium. On one side of it sat the band, on the other side -the Glee Club—and before it the mass of students, smoking cigarettes, -corn-cob pipes, and, occasionally, a cigar. The "smokes" had been -furnished free by a local tobacconist; so everybody smoked violently and -too much. In half an hour it was almost impossible to see the ceiling -through the dull blue haze, and the men in the rear of the gymnasium saw -the speakers on the platform dimly through a wavering mist.</p> - -<p>The band played various Sanford songs, and everybody sang. Occasionally -Wayne Gifford, the cheer-leader, leaped upon the platform, raised a -megaphone to his mouth, and shouted, "A regular cheer for Sanford—a -regular cheer for Sanford." Then he lifted his arms above his head, -flinging the megaphone aside with the same motion, and waited tense and -rigid until the students were on their feet. Suddenly he turned into a -mad dervish, twisting, bending, gesticulating, leaping, running back and -forth across the platform, shouting, and finally throwing his hands -above his head and springing high into the air at the concluding -"San—FORD!"</p> - -<p>The Glee Club sang to mad applause; a tenor twanged a ukulele and moaned -various blues; a popular professor told stories, some of them funny, -most of them slightly off color; a former cheer-leader told of the -triumphs of former Sanford teams—and the atmosphere grew denser and -denser, bluer and bluer, as the smoke wreathed upward. The thousand boys -leaned intently forward, occasionally jumping to their feet to shout and -cheer, and then sinking back into their chairs, tense and excited. As -each speaker mounted the platform they shouted: "Off with your coat! Off -with your coat!" And the speakers, even the professor, had to shed their -coats before they were permitted to say a word.</p> - -<p>When the team entered, bedlam broke loose. Every student stood on his -chair, waved his arms, slapped his neighbor on the back or hugged him -wildly, threw his hat in the air, if he had one—and, so great was his -training, keeping an eye on the cheer-leader, who was on the platform -going through a series of indescribable contortions. Suddenly he -straightened up, held his hands above his head again, and shouted -through his megaphone: "A regular cheer for the team—a regular cheer -for the team. Make it big—BIG! Ready—!" Away whirled the megaphone, -and he went through exactly the same performance that he had used before -in conducting the regular cheer. Gifford looked like an inspired madman, -but he knew exactly what he was doing. The students cheered lustily, so -lustily that some of them were hoarse the next day. They continued to -yell after the cheer was completed, ceasing only when Gifford signaled -for silence.</p> - -<p>Then there were speeches by each member of the team, all -enthusiastically applauded, and finally the speech of the evening, that -of the coach, Jack Price. He was a big, compactly built man with regular -features, heavy blond hair, and pale, cold blue eyes. He threw off his -coat with a belligerent gesture, stuck his hands into his trousers -pockets, and waited rigidly until the cheering had subsided. Then he -began:</p> - -<p>"Go ahead and yell. It's easy as hell to cheer here in the gym; but what -are you going to do Saturday afternoon?"</p> - -<p>His voice was sharp with sarcasm, and to the shouts of "Yell! Fight!" -that came from all over the gymnasium, he answered, "Yeah, -maybe—maybe." He shifted his position, stepping toward the front of the -platform, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.</p> - -<p>"I've seen a lot of football games, and I've seen lots of rooters, but -this is the goddamndest gang of yellow-bellied quitters that I've ever -seen. What happened last Saturday when we were behind? I'm asking you; -what happened? You quit! Quit like a bunch of whipped curs. God! you're -yellow, yellow as hell. But the team went on fighting—and it won, won -in spite of you, won for a bunch of yellow pups. And why? Because the -team's got guts. And when it was all over, you cheered and howled and -serpentined and felt big as hell. Lord Almighty! you acted as if you'd -done something."</p> - -<p>His right hand came out of his pocket with a jerk, and he extended a -fighting, clenched fist toward his breathless audience. "I'll tell you -something," he said slowly, viciously; "the team can't win alone day -after to-morrow. <i>It can't win alone</i>! You've got to fight. Damn it! -<i>You've got to fight!</i> Raleigh's good, damn good; it hasn't lost a game -this season—and we've got to win, <i>win</i>! Do you hear? We've got to win! -And there's only one way that we can win, and that's with every man back -of the team. Every goddamned mother's son of you. The team's good, but -it can't win unless you fight—<i>fight</i>!"</p> - -<p>Suddenly his voice grew softer, almost gentle. He held out both hands to -the boys, who had become so tense that they had forgotten to smoke. -"We've got to win, fellows, for old Sanford. Are you back of us?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" The tension shattered into a thousand yells. The boys leaped on -the chairs and shouted until they could shout no more. When Gifford -called for "a regular cheer for Jack Price" and then one for the -team—"Make it the biggest you ever gave"—they could respond with only -a hoarse croak.</p> - -<p>Finally the hymn was sung—at least, the boys tried loyally to sing -it—and they stood silent and almost reverent as the team filed out of -the gymnasium.</p> - -<p>Hugh walked back to Surrey Hall with several men. No one said a word -except a quiet good night as they parted. Carl was in the room when he -arrived. He sank into a chair and was silent for a few minutes.</p> - -<p>Finally he said in a happy whisper, "Wasn't it wonderful, Carl?"</p> - -<p>"Un-huh. Damn good."</p> - -<p>"Gosh, I hope we win. We've <i>got</i> to!"</p> - -<p>Carl looked up, his cheeks redder than usual, his eyes glittering. "God, -yes!" he breathed piously.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h2>CHAPTER X</h2> -<br /> - -<p>The football season lasted from the first of October to the latter part -of November, and during those weeks little was talked about, or even -thought about, on the campus but football. There were undergraduates who -knew the personnel of virtually every football team in the country, the -teams that had played against each other, their relative merits, the -various scores, the outstanding players of each position. Half the -students at Sanford regularly made out "All American" teams, and each -man was more than willing to debate the quality of his team against that -of any other. Night after night the students gathered in groups in -dormitory rooms and fraternity houses, discussing football, football, -football; even religion and sex, the favorite topics for "bull -sessions," could not compete with football, especially when some one -mentioned Raleigh College. Raleigh was Sanford's ancient rival; to -defeat her was of cosmic importance.</p> - -<p>There was a game every Saturday. About half the time the team played at -home; the other games were played on the rivals' fields. No matter how -far away the team traveled, the college traveled with it. The men who -had the necessary money went by train; a few owned automobiles: but most -of the undergraduates had neither an automobile nor money for train -fare. They "bummed" their way. Some of them emulated professional -tramps, and "rode the beams," but most of them started out walking, -trusting that kind-hearted motorists would pick them up and carry them -at least part way to their destination. Although the distances were -sometimes great, and although many motorists are not kind, there is no -record of any man who ever started for a game not arriving in time for -the referee's first whistle. Somehow, by hook or by crook—and it was -often by crook—the boys got there, and, what is more astonishing, they -got back. On Monday morning at 8:45 they were in chapel, usually worn -and tired, it is true, ready to bluff their way through the day's -assignments, and damning any instructor who was heartless enough to give -them a quiz. Some of them were worn out from really harsh traveling -experiences; some of them had more exciting adventures to relate behind -closed doors to selected groups of confidants.</p> - -<p>Football! Nothing else mattered. And as the weeks passed, the excitement -grew, especially as the day drew near for the Raleigh game, which this -year was to be played on the Sanford field. What were Sanford's chances? -Would Harry Slade, Sanford's great half-back, make All American? "Damn -it to hell, he ought to. It'll be a stinkin' shame if he don't." Would -Raleigh's line be able to stop Slade's end runs? Slade! Slade! He was -the team, the hope and adoration of the whole college.</p> - -<p>Three days before the "big game" the alumni began to pour into town, -most of them fairly recent graduates, but many of them gray-haired men -who boasted that they hadn't missed a Sanford-Raleigh game in thirty -years. Hundreds of alumni arrived, filling the two hotels to capacity -and overrunning the fraternity houses, the students doubling up or -seeking hospitality from a friend in a dormitory.</p> - -<p>In the little room in the rear of the Sanford Pool and Billiard Parlors -there was almost continual excitement. Jim McCarty, the proprietor, a -big, jovial, red-faced man whom all the students called Mac, was the -official stake-holder for the college. Bets for any amount could be -placed with him. Money from Raleigh flowed into his pudgy hands, and he -placed it at the odds offered with eager Sanford takers. By the day of -the game his safe held thousands of dollars, most of it wagered at five -to three, Raleigh offering odds. There was hardly an alumnus who did not -prove his loyalty to Sanford by visiting Mac's back room and putting -down a few greenbacks, at least. Some were more loyal than others; the -most loyal placed a thousand dollars—at five to two.</p> - -<p>There was rain for two days before the game, but on Friday night the -clouds broke. A full moon seemed to shine them away, and the whole -campus rejoiced with great enthusiasm. Most of the alumni got drunk to -show their deep appreciation to the moon, and many of the undergraduates -followed the example set by their elders.</p> - -<p>All Friday afternoon girls had been arriving, dozens of them, to attend -the fraternity dances. One dormitory had been set aside for them, the -normal residents seeking shelter in other dormitories. No man ever -objected to resigning his room to a girl. He never could tell what he -would find when he returned to it Monday morning. Some of the girls left -strange mementos....</p> - -<p>No one except a few notorious grinds studied that night. Some of the -students were, of course, at the fraternity dances; some of them sat in -dormitory rooms and discussed the coming game from every possible angle; -and groups of them wandered around the campus, peering into the -fraternity houses, commenting on the girls, wandering on humming a song -that an orchestra had been playing, occasionally pausing to give a -"regular cheer" for the moon.</p> - -<p>Hugh was too much excited to stay in a room; so with several other -freshmen he traveled the campus. He passionately envied the dancers in -the fraternity houses but consoled himself with the thought, "Maybe -I'll be dancing at the Nu Delt house next year." Then he had a spasm of -fright. Perhaps the Nu Delts—perhaps no fraternity would bid him. The -moon lost its brilliance; for a moment even the Sanford-Raleigh game was -forgotten.</p> - -<p>The boys were standing before a fraternity house, and as the music -ceased, Jack Collings suggested: "Let's serenade them. You lead, Hugh."</p> - -<p>Hugh had a sweet, light tenor voice. It was not at all remarkable, just -clear and true; but he had easily made the Glee Club and had an -excellent chance to be chosen freshman song-leader.</p> - -<p>Collings had brought a guitar with him. He handed it to Hugh, who, like -most musical undergraduates, could play both a guitar and a banjo. "Sing -that 'I arise from dreams of thee' thing that you were singing the other -night. We'll hum."</p> - -<p>Hugh slipped the cord around his neck, tuned the guitar, and then -thrummed a few opening chords. His heart was beating at double time; he -was very happy: he was serenading girls at a fraternity dance. Couples -were strolling out upon the veranda, the girls throwing warm wraps over -their shoulders, the men lighting cigarettes and tossing the burnt -matches on the lawn. Their white shirt-fronts gleamed eerily in the pale -light cast by the Japanese lanterns with which the veranda was hung.</p> - -<p>Hugh began to sing Shelley's passionate lyric, set so well to music by -Tod B. Galloway. His mother had taught him the song, and he loved it.</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"I arise from dreams of thee</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>In the first sweet sleep of night,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>When the winds are breathing low</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And the stars are shining bright.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>I arise from dreams of thee,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And a spirit in my feet</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Hath led me—who knows how?</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>To thy chamber-window, Sweet!"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Two of the boys, who had heard Hugh sing the song before, hummed a soft -accompaniment. When he began the second verse several more began to hum; -they had caught the melody. The couples on the veranda moved quietly to -the porch railing, their chatter silent, their attention focused on a -group of dim figures standing in the shadow of an elm. Hugh was singing -well, better than he ever had before. Neither he nor his audience knew -that the lyric was immortal, but its tender, passionate beauty caught -and held them.</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"The wandering airs they faint</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>On the dark, the silent stream—</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>The champak odors fail</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Like sweet-thoughts in a dream;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>The nightingale's complaint</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>It dies upon her heart,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>As I must die on thine</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>O beloved as thou art!</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Oh lift me from the grass!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>I die, I faint, I fail!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Let thy love in kisses rain</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>On my cheeks and eyelids pale.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>My cheek is cold and white, alas!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>My heart beats loud and fast;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Oh! press it close to thine again</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Where it will break at last."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>There was silence for a moment after Hugh finished. The shadows, the -moonlight, the boy's soft young voice had moved them all. Suddenly a -girl on the veranda cried, "Bring him up!" Instantly half a dozen others -turned to their escorts, insisting shrilly: "Bring him up. We want to -see him."</p> - -<p>Hugh jerked the guitar cord from around his neck, banded the instrument -to Collings, and tried to run. A burst of laughter went up from the -freshmen. They caught him and held him fast until the Tuxedo-clad -upper-classmen rushed down from the veranda and had him by the arms. -They pulled him, protesting and struggling, upon the veranda and into -the living-room.</p> - -<p>The girls gathered around him, praising, demanding more. He flushed -scarlet when one enthusiastic maiden forced her way through the ring, -looked hard at him, and then announced positively, "I think he's sweet." -He was intensely embarrassed, in an agony of confusion—but very happy. -The girls liked his clean blondness, his blushes, his startled smile. -How long they would have held him there in the center of the ring while -they admired and teased him, there is no telling; but suddenly the -orchestra brought relief by striking up a fox-trot.</p> - -<p>"He's mine!" cried a pretty black-eyed girl with a cloud of bobbed hair -and flaming cheeks. Her slender shoulders were bare; her round white -arms waved in excited, graceful gestures; her corn-colored frock was a -gauzy mist. She clutched Hugh's arm. "He's mine," she repeated shrilly. -"He's going to dance with me."</p> - -<p>Hugh's cheeks burned a deeper scarlet. "My clothes," he muttered, -hesitating.</p> - -<p>"Your clothes! My dear, you look sweet. Take off your cap and dance with -me."</p> - -<p>Hugh snatched off his cap, his mind reeling with shame, but he had no -time to think. The girl pulled him through the crowd to a clear floor. -Almost mechanically, Hugh put his arm around her and began to dance. He -<i>could</i> dance, and the girl had sense enough not to talk. She floated in -his arm, her slender body close to his. When the music ceased, she -clapped her little hands excitedly and told Hugh that he danced -"won-der-ful-ly." After the third encore she led him to a dark corner in -the hall.</p> - -<p>"You're sweet, honey," she said softly. She turned her small, glowing -face up to his. "Kiss me," she commanded.</p> - -<p>Dazed, Hugh gathered her into his arms and kissed her little red mouth. -She clung to him for a minute and then pushed him gently away.</p> - -<p>"Good night, honey," she whispered.</p> - -<p>"Good night." Hugh's voice broke huskily. He turned and walked rapidly -down the hall, upon the veranda, and down the steps. His classmates were -waiting for him. They rushed up to him, demanding that he tell them what -had happened.</p> - -<p>He told them most of it, especially about the dance; but he neglected to -mention the kiss. Shyness overcame any desire that he had to strut. -Besides, there was something about that kiss that made it impossible for -him to tell any one, even Carl. When he went to bed that night, he did -not think once about the coming football game. Before his eyes floated -the girl in the corn-colored frock. He wished he knew her name.... -Closer and closer she came to him. He could feel her cool arms around -his neck. "What a wonderful, wonderful girl! Sweeter than Helen—lots -sweeter.... She's like the night—and moonlight.... Like moonlight -and—" The music of the "Indian Serenade" began to thrill through his -mind:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"I arise from dreams of thee</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>In the first sweet sleep of night....</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Oh, she's sweet, sweet—like music and moonlight...." He fell asleep, -repeating "music and moonlight" over and over again—"music and -moonlight...."</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>The morning of the "big game" proved ideal, crisp and cold, crystal -clear. Indian summer was near its close, but there was still something -of its dreamy wonder in the air, and the hills still flamed with -glorious autumn foliage. The purples, the mauves, the scarlets, the -burnt oranges were a little dimmed, a little less brilliant—the leaves -were rustling dryly now—but there was beauty in dying autumn, its -splendor slowly fading, as there was in its first startling burst of -color.</p> - -<p>Classes that Saturday morning were a farce, but they were held; the -administration, which the boys damned heartily, insisted upon it. Some -of the instructors merely took the roll and dismissed their classes, -feeling that honor had been satisfied; but others held their classes -through the hour, lecturing the disgusted students on their lack of -interest, warning them that examinations weren't as far off as the -millennium.</p> - -<p>Hugh felt that he was lucky; he had only one class—it was with Alling -in Latin—and it had been promptly dismissed. "When the day comes," said -Alling, "that Latin can compete with football, I'll—well, I'll probably -get a living wage. You had better go before I get to talking about a -living wage. It is one of my favorite topics." He waved his hand toward -the door; the boys roared with delight and rushed out of the room, -shoving each other and laughing. They ran out of the building; all of -them were too excited to walk.</p> - -<p>By half-past one the stands were filled. Most of the girls wore fur -coats, as did many of the alumni, but the students sported no such -luxuries; nine tenths of them wore "baa-baa coats," gray jackets lined -with sheep's wool. Except for an occasional banner, usually carried by a -girl, and the bright hats of the women, there was little color to the -scene. The air was sharp, and the spectators huddled down into their -warm coats.</p> - -<p>The rival cheering sections, seated on opposite sides of the field, -alternated in cheering and singing, each applauding the other's efforts. -The cheering wasn't very good, and the singing was worse; but there was -a great deal of noise, and that was about all that mattered to either -side.</p> - -<p>A few minutes before two, the Raleigh team ran upon the field. The -Raleigh cheering section promptly went mad. When the Sanford team -appeared a minute later, the Sanford cheering section tried its best to -go madder, the boys whistling and yelling like possessed demons. Wayne -Gifford brought them to attention by holding his hands above his head. -He called for the usual regular cheer for the team and then for a short -cheer for each member of it, starting with the captain, Sherman -Walford, and ending with the great half-back, Harry Slade.</p> - -<p>Suddenly there was silence. The toss-up had been completed; the teams -were in position on the field. Slade had finished building a slender -pyramid of mud, on which he had balanced the ball. The referee held up -his hand. "Are you ready, Sanford?" Walford signaled his readiness. "Are -you ready, Raleigh?"</p> - -<p>The shrill blast of the referee's whistle—and the game was on. The -first half was a see-saw up and down the field. Near the end of the half -Raleigh was within twenty yards of the Sanford line. Shouts of "Score! -Score! Score!" went up from the Raleigh rooters, rhythmic, insistent. -"Hold 'em! Hold 'em! Fight! Fight! Fight!" the Sanford cheering section -pleaded, almost sobbing the words. A forward pass skilfully completed -netted Raleigh sixteen yards. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"</p> - -<p>The timekeeper tooted his little horn; the half was over. For a moment -the Sanford boys leaned back exhausted; then they leaped to their feet -and yelled madly, while the Raleigh boys leaned back or against each -other and swore fervently. Within two minutes the tension had departed. -The rival cheering sections alternated in singing songs, applauded each -other vigorously, whistled at a frightened dog that tried to cross the -field and nearly lost its mind entirely when called by a thousand -masters, waited breathlessly when the cheer-leaders announced the -results from other football games that had been telegraphed to the -field, applauded if Harvard was losing, groaned if it wasn't, sang some -more, relaxed and felt consummately happy.</p> - -<p>Sanford immediately took the offensive in the second half. Slade was -consistently carrying the ball. Twice he brought it within Raleigh's -twenty-five-yard line. The first time Raleigh held firm, but the second -time Slade stepped back for a drop-kick. The spectators sat silent, -breathless. The angle was difficult. Could he make it? Would the line -hold?</p> - -<p>Quite calmly Slade waited. The center passed the ball neatly. Slade -turned it in his hands, paid not the slightest attention to the mad -struggle going on a few feet in front of him, dropped the ball—and -kicked. The ball rose in a graceful arc and passed safely between the -goal-posts.</p> - -<p>Every one, men and women alike, the Raleigh adherents excepted, promptly -turned into extraordinarily active lunatics. The women waved their -banners and shrieked, or if they had no banners, they waved their arms -and shrieked; the men danced up and down, yelled, pounded each other on -the back, sometimes wildly embraced—many a woman was kissed by a man -she had never seen before and never would again, nor did she -object—Wayne Gifford was turning handsprings, and many of the students -were feebly fluttering their hands, voiceless, spent with cheering, weak -from excitement.</p> - -<p>Early in the fourth quarter, however, Raleigh got its revenge, carrying -the ball to a touch-down after a series of line rushes. Sanford tried -desperately to score again, but its best efforts were useless against -the Raleigh defense.</p> - -<p>The final whistle blew; and Sanford had lost. Cheering wildly, tossing -their hats into the air, the Raleigh students piled down from the grand -stand upon the field. With the cheer-leaders at the head, waving their -megaphones, the boys rapidly formed into a long line in uneven groups, -holding arms, dancing, shouting, winding in and out around the field, -between the goal-posts, tossing their hats over the bars, waving their -hands at the Sanford men standing despondently in their places—in and -out, in and out, in the triumphant serpentine. Finally they paused, took -off their hats, cheered first their own team, then the Sanford team, and -then sang their hymn while the Sanford men respectfully uncovered, -silent and despairing.</p> - -<p>When the hymn was over, the Sanford men quietly left the grand stand, -quietly formed into a long line in groups of fours, quietly marched to -the college flagpole in the center of the campus. A Sanford banner was -flying from the pole, a blue banner with an orange S. Wayne Gifford -loosened the ropes. Down fluttered the banner, and the boys reverently -took off their hats. Gifford caught the banner before it touched the -ground and gathered it into his arms. The song-leader stepped beside -him. He lifted his hand, sang a note, and then the boys sang with him, -huskily, sadly, some of them with tears streaming down their cheeks:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Sanford, Sanford, mother of men,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Love us, guard us, hold us true.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Let thy arms enfold us;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Let thy truth uphold us.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Queen of colleges, mother of men—</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Alma mater, Sanford—hail!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Alma mater—Hail!—Hail!"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Slowly the circle broke into small groups that straggled wearily across -the campus. Hugh, with two or three others, was walking behind two young -professors—one of them, Alling, the other, Jones of the economics -department. Hugh was almost literally broken-hearted; the defeat lay on -him like an awful sorrow that never could be lifted. Every inch of him -ached, but his despair was greater than his physical pain. The sharp, -clear voice of Jones broke into his half-deadened consciousness.</p> - -<p>"I can't understand all this emotional excitement," said Jones crisply. -"A football game is a football game, not a national calamity. I enjoy -the game myself, but why weep over it? I don't think I ever saw anything -more absurd than those boys singing with tears running into their -mouths."</p> - -<p>Shocked, the boys looked at each other. They started to make angry -remarks but paused as Alling spoke.</p> - -<p>"Of course, what you say, Jones, is quite right," he remarked calmly, -"quite right. But, do you know, I pity you."</p> - -<p>"Alling's a good guy," Hugh told Carl later; "he's human."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> -<br /> - -<p>After the Sanford-Raleigh game, the college seemed to be slowly dying. -The boys held countless post-mortems over the game, explaining to each -other just how it had been lost or how it could have been won. They -watched the newspapers eagerly as the sport writers announced their -choice for the so-called All American team. If Slade was on the team, -the writer was conceded to "know his dope"; if Slade wasn't, the writer -was a "dumbbell." But all this pseudo-excitement was merely picking at -the covers; there was no real heart in it. Gradually the football talk -died down; freshmen ceased to write themes about Sanford's great -fighting spirit; sex and religion once more became predominant at the -"bull sessions."</p> - -<p>Studies, too, began to find a place in the sun. Hour examinations were -coming, and most of the boys knew that they were miserably prepared. -Lights were burning in fraternity houses and dormitories until late at -night, and mighty little of their glow was shed on poker parties and -crap games. The college had begun to study.</p> - -<p>When Hugh finally calmed down and took stock, he was horrified and -frightened to discover how far he was behind in all his work. He had -done his lessons sketchily from day to day, but he really knew nothing -about them, and he knew that he didn't. Since Morse's departure, he had -loafed, trusting to luck and the knowledge he had gained in high school. -So far he had escaped a summons from the dean, but he daily expected -one, and the mere thought of hour examinations made him shiver. He -studied hard for a week, succeeding only in getting gloriously confused -and more frightened. The examinations proved to be easier than he had -expected; he didn't fail in any of them, but he did not get a grade -above a C.</p> - -<p>The examination flurry passed, and the college was left cold. Nothing -seemed to happen. The boys went to the movies every night, had a peanut -fight, talked to the shadowy actors; they played cards, pool, and -billiards, or shot craps; Saturday nights many of them went to a dance -at Hastings, a small town five miles away; they held bull sessions and -discussed everything under the sun and some things beyond it; they -attended a performance of Shaw's "Candida" given by the Dramatic Society -and voted it a "wet" show; and, incidentally, some of them studied. But, -all in all, life was rather tepid, and most of the boys were merely -marking time and waiting for Christmas vacation.</p> - -<p>For Hugh the vacation came and went with a rush. It was glorious to get -home again, glorious to see his father and mother, and, at first, -glorious to see Helen Simpson. But Helen had begun to pall; her kisses -hardly compensated for her conversation. She gave him a little feeling -of guilt, too, which he tried to argue away. "Kissing isn't really -wrong. Everybody pets; at least, Carl says they do. Helen likes it -but...." Always that "but" intruded itself. "But it doesn't seem quite -right when—I don't really love her." When he kissed her for the last -time before returning to college, he had a distinct feeling of relief: -well, that would be off his mind for a while, anyway.</p> - -<p>It was a sober, quiet crowd of students—for the first time they were -students—that returned to their desks after the vacation. The final -examinations were ahead of them, less than a month away; and those -examinations hung over their heads like the relentless, glittering blade -of a guillotine. The boys studied. "College life" ceased; there was a -brief period of education.</p> - -<p>Of course, they did not desert the movies, and the snow and ice claimed -them. Part of Indian Lake was scraped free of snow, and every clear -afternoon hundreds of boys skated happily, explaining afterward that -they had to have some exercise if they were going to be able to study. -On those afternoons the lake was a pretty sight, zestful, alive with -color. Many of the men wore blue sweaters, some of them brightly colored -Mackinaws, all of them knitted toques. As soon as the cold weather -arrived, the freshmen had been permitted to substitute blue toques with -orange tassels for their "baby bonnets." The blue and orange stood out -vividly against the white snow-covered hills, and the skates rang -sharply as they cut the glare ice.</p> - -<p>There was snow-shoeing, skiing, and sliding "to keep a fellow fit so -that he could do good work in his exams," but much as the boys enjoyed -the winter sports, a black pall hung over the college as the examination -period drew nearer and nearer. The library, which had been virtually -deserted all term, suddenly became crowded. Every afternoon and evening -its big tables were filled with serious-faced lads earnestly bending -over books, making notes, running their fingers through their hair, -occasionally looking up with dazed eyes, or twisting about miserably.</p> - -<p>The tension grew greater and greater. The upper-classmen were quiet and -businesslike, but most of the freshmen were frankly terrified. A few of -them packed their trunks and slunk away, and a few more openly scorned -the examinations and their frightened classmates; but they were the -exceptions. All the buoyancy seemed gone out of the college; nothing was -left but an intense strain. The dormitories were strangely quiet at -night. There was no playing of golf in the hallways, no rolling of bats -down the stairs, no shouting, no laughter; a man who made any noise was -in danger of a serious beating. Even the greetings as the men passed -each other on the campus were quiet and abstracted. They ceased to cut -classes. Everybody attended, and everybody paid close attention even to -the most tiresome instructors.</p> - -<p>Studious seniors began to reap a harvest out of tutoring sections. The -meetings were a dollar "a throw," and for another dollar a student could -get a mimeographed outline of a course. But the tutoring sections were -only for the "plutes" or the athletes, many of whom were subsidized by -fraternities or alumni. Most of the students had to learn their own -lessons; so they often banded together in small groups to make the task -less arduous, finding some relief in sociability.</p> - -<p>The study groups, quite properly called seminars, would have shocked -many a worthy professor had he been able to attend one; but they were -truly educative, and to many students inspiring. The professor had -planted the seed of wisdom with them; it was at the seminars that they -tried honestly, if somewhat hysterically and irreverently, to make it -grow.</p> - -<p>Hugh did most of his studying alone, fearing that the seminars would -degenerate into bull sessions, as many of them did; but Carl insisted -that he join one group that was going "to wipe up that goddamned -English course to-night."</p> - -<p>There were only five men at the seminar, which met in Surrey 19, because -Pudge Jamieson, who was "rating" an A in the course and was therefore an -authority, said that he wouldn't come if there were any more. Pudge, as -his nickname suggests, was plump. He was a round-faced, jovial youngster -who learned everything with consummate ease, wrote with great fluency -and sometimes real beauty, peered through his horn-rimmed spectacles -amusedly at the world, and read every "smut" book that he could lay his -hands on. His library of erotica was already famous throughout the -college, his volumes of Balzac's "Droll Stories," Rabelais complete, -"Mlle. de Maupin," Burton's "Arabian Nights," and the "Decameron" being -in constant demand. He could tell literally hundreds of dirty stories, -always having a new one on tap, always looking when he told it like a -complacent cherub.</p> - -<p>There were two other men in the seminar. Freddy Dickson, an earnest, -anemic youth, seemed to be always striving for greater acceleration and -never gaining it; or as Pudge put it, "The trouble with Freddy is that -he's always shifting gears." Larry Stillwell, the last man, was a dark, -handsome youth with exceedingly regular features, pomaded hair parted in -the center and shining sleekly, fine teeth, and rich coloring: a -"smooth" boy who prided himself on his conquests and the fact that he -never got a grade above a C in his courses. There was no man in the -freshman class with a finer mind, but he declined to study, declaring -firmly that he could not waste his time acquiring impractical tastes for -useless arts.</p> - -<p>"Now everybody shut up," said Pudge, seating himself in a big chair and -laboriously crossing one leg over the other. "Put some more wood on the -fire, Hugh, will you?"</p> - -<p>Hugh stirred up the fire, piled on a log or so, and then returned to his -chair, hoping against belief that something really would be accomplished -in the seminar. All the boys, he excepted, were smoking, and all of them -were lolling back in dangerously comfortable attitudes.</p> - -<p>"We've got to get going," Pudge continued, "and we aren't going to get -anything done if we just sit around and bull. I'm the prof, and I'm -going to ask questions. Now, don't bull. If you don't know, just say, -'No soap,' and if you do know, shoot your dope." He grinned. "How's that -for a rime?"</p> - -<p>"Atta boy!" Carl exclaimed enthusiastically.</p> - -<p>"Shut up! Now, the stuff we want to get at to-night is the poetry. No use -spending any time on the composition. My prof said that we would have -to write themes in the exam, but we can't do anything about that here. -You're all getting by on your themes, anyway, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah," the listening quartet answered in unison, Larry Stillwell adding -dubiously, "Well, I'm getting C's."</p> - -<p>"Larry," said Carl in cold contempt, "you're a goddamn liar. I saw a B -on one of your themes the other day and an A on another. What are you -always pulling that low-brow stuff for?"</p> - -<p>Larry had the grace to blush. "Aw," he explained in some confusion, "my -prof's full of hooey. He doesn't know a C theme from an A one. He makes -me sick. He—"</p> - -<p>"Aw, shut up!" Freddy Dickson shouted. "Let's get going; let's get -going. We gotta learn this poetry. Damn! I don't know anything about it. -I didn't crack the book till two days ago."</p> - -<p>Pudge took charge again. "Close your gabs, everybody," he commanded -sternly. "There's no sense in going over the prose lit. You can do that -better by yourselves. God knows I'm not going to waste my time telling -you bone-heads what Carlyle means by a hero. If you don't know Odin from -Mohammed by this time, you can roast in Dante's hell for all of me. Now -listen; the prof said that they were going to make us place lines, and, -of course, they'll expect us to know what the poems are about. Hell! -how some of the boys are going to fox 'em." He paused to laugh. "Jim -Hicks told me this afternoon that 'Philomela' was by Shakspere." The -other boys did not understand the joke, but they all laughed heartily.</p> - -<p>"Now," he went on, "I'll give you the name of a poem, and then you tell -me what it's about and who wrote it."</p> - -<p>He leafed rapidly through an anthology. "Carl, who wrote 'Kubla Khan'?"</p> - -<p>Carl puffed his pipe meditatively. "I'm going to fox you, Pudge," he -said, frankly triumphant; "I know. Coleridge wrote it. It seems to be -about a Jew who built a swell joint for a wild woman or something like -that. I can't make much out of the damn thing."</p> - -<p>"That's enough. Smack for Carl," said Pudge approvingly. "Smack" meant -that the answer was satisfactory. "Freddy, who wrote 'La Belle Dame sans -Merci'?"</p> - -<p>Freddy twisted in his chair, thumped his head with his knuckles, and -finally announced with a groan of despair, "No soap."</p> - -<p>"Hugh?"</p> - -<p>"No soap."</p> - -<p>"Larry?"</p> - -<p>"Well," drawled Larry, "I think Jawn Keats wrote it. It's one of those -bedtime stories with a kick. A knight gets picked up by a jane. He puts -her on his prancing steed and beats it for the tall timber. Keats isn't -very plain about what happened there, but I suspect the worst. Anyhow, -the knight woke up the next morning with an awful rotten taste in his -mouth."</p> - -<p>"Smack for Larry. Your turn, Carl. Who wrote 'The West Wind'?"</p> - -<p>"You can't get me on that boy Masefield, Pudge. I know all his stuff. -There isn't any story; it's just about the west wind, but it's a goddamn -good poem. It's the cat's pajamas."</p> - -<p>"You said it, Carl," Hugh chimed in, "but I like 'Sea Fever' better.</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"I must go down to the seas again,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>To the lonely sea and the sky....</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Gosh! that's hot stuff. 'August, 1914' 's a peach, too."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," agreed Larry languidly; "I got a great kick when the prof read -that in class. Masefield's all right. I wish we had more of his stuff -and less of Milton. Lord Almighty, how I hate Milton! What th' hell do -they have to give us that tripe for?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, let's get going," Freddy pleaded, running a nervous hand through -his mouse-colored hair. "Shoot a question, Pudge."</p> - -<p>"All right, Freddy." Pudge tried to smile wickedly but succeeded only in -looking like a beaming cherub. "Tell us who wrote the 'Ode on -Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.' -Cripes! what a title!"</p> - -<p>Freddy groaned. "I know that Wadsworth wrote it, but that is all that I -do know about it."</p> - -<p>"Wordsworth, Freddy," Carl corrected him. "Wordsworth. Henry W. -Wordsworth."</p> - -<p>"Gee, Carl, thanks. I thought it was William."</p> - -<p>There was a burst of laughter, and then Pudge explained. "It is William, -Freddy. Don't let Peters razz you. Just for that, Carl, you tell what -it's about."</p> - -<p>"No soap," said Carl decisively.</p> - -<p>"I know," Hugh announced, excited and pleased.</p> - -<p>"Shoot!"</p> - -<p>"Well, it's this reincarnation business. Wordsworth thought you lived -before you came on to this earth, and everything was fine when you were -a baby but it got worse when you got older. That's about all. It's kinda -bugs, but I like some of it."</p> - -<p>"It isn't bugs," Pudge contradicted flatly; "it's got sense. You do lose -something as you grow older, but you gain something, too. Wordsworth -admits that. It's a wonderful poem, and you're dumbbells if you can't -see it." He was very serious as he turned the pages of the book and laid -his pipe on the table at his elbow. "Now listen. This stanza has the -dope for the whole poem." He read the famous stanza simply and -effectively:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 11em;'>"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.5em;'>Hath had elsewhere its setting</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 13.5em;'>And cometh from afar;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 13.5em;'>Not in entire forgetfulness,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 13.5em;'>And not in utter nakedness,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>But trailing clouds of glory do we come</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.5em;'>From God who is our home:</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>Heaven lies about us in our infancy!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>Shades of the prison house begin to close</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 15.5em;'>Upon the growing Boy,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 15.5em;'>He sees it in his joy;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>The Youth who daily farther from the east</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.5em;'>Must travel, still is Nature's priest,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 13.5em;'>And by the vision splendid</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 13.5em;'>Is on his way attended;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>At length the Man perceives it die away,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 11.5em;'>And fade into the light of common day."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>There was a moment's silence when he finished, and then Hugh said -reverently: "That is beautiful. Read the last stanza, will you, Pudge?"</p> - -<p>So Pudge read the last stanza, and then the boys got into an argument -over the possible truth of the thesis of the poem. Freddy finally -brought them back to the task in hand with his plaintive plea, "We've -gotta get going." It was two o'clock in the morning when the seminar -broke up, Hugh admitting to Carl after their visitors departed that he -had not only learned a lot but that he had enjoyed the evening heartily.</p> - -<p>The college grew quieter and quieter as the day for the examinations -approached. There were seminars on everything, even on the best way to -prepare cribs. Certain students with low grades and less honor would -somehow gravitate together and discuss plans for "foxing the profs." -Opinions differed. One man usually insisted that notes in the palm of -the left hand were safe from detection, only to be met by the objection -that they had to be written in ink, and if one's hand perspired, "and it -was sure as hell to," nothing was left but an inky smear. Another held -that a fellow could fasten a rubber band on his forearm and attach the -notes to those, pulling them down when needed and then letting them snap -back out of sight into safety. "But," one of the conspirators was sure -to object, "what th' hell are you going to do if the band breaks?" Some -of them insisted that notes placed in the inside of one's goloshes—all -the students wore them but took them off in the examination-room—could -be easily read. "Yeah, but the proctors are wise to that stunt." And so -<i>ad infinitum</i>. Eventually all the "stunts" were used and many more. Not -that all the students cheated. Everything considered, the percentage of -cheaters was not great, but those who did cheat usually spent enough -time evolving ingenious methods of preparing cribs and in preparing them -to have learned their lessons honestly and well.</p> - -<p>The night before the first examinations the campus was utterly quiet. -Suddenly bedlam broke loose. Somehow every dormitory that contained -freshmen became a madhouse at the same time. Hugh and Carl were in -Surrey 19 earnestly studying. Freddy Dickson flung the door open and -shouted hysterically, "The general science exam's out!"</p> - -<p>Hugh and Carl whirled around in their desk-chairs.</p> - -<p>"What?" They shouted together.</p> - -<p>"Yeah! One of the fellows saw it. A girl that works at the press copied -down the exam and gave it to him."</p> - -<p>"What fellow? Where's the exam?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know who the guy is, but Hubert Manning saw the exam."</p> - -<p>Hugh and Carl were out of their chairs in an instant, and the three boys -rushed out of Surrey in search of Manning. They found him in his room -telling a mob of excited classmates that he hadn't seen the exam but -that Harry Smithson had. Away went the crowd in search of Smithson, Carl -and Hugh and Freddy in the midst of the excited, chattering lads. -Smithson hadn't seen the exam, but he had heard that Puddy McCumber had -a copy.... Freshmen were running up and down stairs in the dormitories, -shouting, "Have you seen the exam?" No, nobody had seen the exam, but -some of the boys had been told definitely what the questions were going -to be. No two seemed to agree on the questions, but everybody copied -them down and then rushed on to search for a <i>bona fide</i> copy. They -hurried from dormitory to dormitory, constantly shouting the same -question, "Have you seen the exam?" There were men in every dormitory -with a new list of questions, which were hastily scratched into -note-books by the eager seekers. Until midnight the excitement raged; -then the campus quieted down as the freshmen began to study the long -lists of questions.</p> - -<p>"God!" said Carl as he scanned his list hopelessly, "these damn -questions cover everything in the course and some things that I know -damn well weren't in it. What a lot of nuts we were. Let's go to bed."</p> - -<p>"Carl," Hugh wailed despondently, "I'm going to flunk that exam. I can't -answer a tenth of these questions. I can't go to bed; I've got to study. -Oh, Lord!"</p> - -<p>"Don't be a triple-plated jackass. Come on to bed. You'll just get woozy -if you stay up any longer."</p> - -<p>"All right," Hugh agreed wearily. He went to bed, but many of the boys -stayed up and studied, some of them all night.</p> - -<p>The examinations were held in the gymnasium. Hundreds of class-room -chairs were set in even rows. Nothing else was there, not even the -gymnasium apparatus. A few years earlier a wily student had sneaked into -the gymnasium the night before an examination and written his notes on a -dumbbell hanging on the wall. The next day he calmly chose the seat in -front of the dumbbell—and proceeded to write a perfect examination. The -annotated dumbbell was found later, and after that the walls were -stripped clean of apparatus before the examinations began.</p> - -<p>At a few minutes before nine the entire freshman class was grouped -before the doors of the gymnasium, nervously talking, some of them -glancing through their notes, others smoking—some of them so rapidly -that the cigarettes seemed to melt, others walking up and down, -muttering and mumbling; all of them so excited, so tense that they -hardly knew what they were doing. Hugh was trying to think of a dozen -answers to questions that popped into his head, and he couldn't think of -anything.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the doors were thrown open. Yelling, shoving each other about, -fairly dancing in their eagerness and excitement, the freshmen rushed -into the gymnasium. Hugh broke from the mob as quickly as possible, -hurried to a chair, and snatched up a copy of the examination that was -lying on its broad arm. At the first glance he thought that he could -answer all the questions; a second glance revealed four that meant -nothing to him. For a moment he was dizzy with hope and despair, and -then, all at once, he felt quite calm. He pulled off his goloshes and -prepared to go to work.</p> - -<p>Within three minutes the noise had subsided. There was a rustling as the -boys took off their baa-baa coats and goloshes, but after that there was -no sound save the slow steps of the proctors pacing up and down the -aisle. Once Hugh looked up, thinking desperately, almost seizing an idea -that floated nebulous and necessary before him. A proctor that he knew -caught his eye and smiled fatuously. Hugh did not smile back. He could -have cried in his fury. The idea was gone forever.</p> - -<p>Some of the students began to write immediately; some of them leaned -back and stared at the ceiling; some of them chewed their pencils -nervously; some of them leaned forward mercilessly pounding a knee; some -of them kept running one or both hands through their hair; some of them -wrote a little and then paused to gaze blankly before them or to tap -their teeth with a pen or pencil: all of them were concentrating with an -intensity that made the silence electric.</p> - -<p>That proctor's idiotic smile had thrown Hugh's thoughts into what -seemed hopeless confusion, but a small incident almost immediately -brought order and relief. The gymnasium cat was wandering around the -rear of the gymnasium. It attracted the attention of several of the -students—and of a proctor. Being very careful not to make any noise, he -picked up the cat and started for the door. Almost instantly every -student looked up; and then the stamping began. Four hundred freshmen -stamped in rhythm to the proctor's steps. He Hushed violently, tried -vainly to look unconcerned, and finally disappeared through the door -with the cat. Hugh had stamped lustily and laughed in great glee at the -proctor's confusion; then he returned to his work, completely at ease, -his nervousness gone.</p> - -<p>One hour passed, two hours. Still the freshmen wrote; still the proctors -paced up and down. Suddenly a proctor paused, stared intently at a youth -who was leaning forward in his chair, walked quickly to him, and picked -up one of his goloshes. The next instant he had a piece of paper in his -hand and was, walking down the gymnasium after beckoning to the boy to -follow him. The boy shoved his feet into his goloshes, pulled on his -baa-baa coat, and, his face white and strained, marched down the aisle. -The proctor spoke a few words to him at the door. He nodded, opened the -door, left the gymnasium—and five hours later the college.</p> - -<p>Thus the college for ten days: the better students moderately calm, the -others cramming information into aching heads, drinking unbelievable -quantities of coffee, sitting up, many of them, all night, attending -seminars or tutoring sessions, working for long hours in the library, -finally taking the examination, only to start a new nerve-racking grind -in preparation for the next one.</p> - -<p>If a student failed in a course, he received a "flunk notice" from the -registrar's office within four days after the examination, so that four -days after the last examination every student knew whether he had passed -his courses or not. All those who failed to pass three courses were, as -the students put it, "flunked out," or as the registrar put it, "their -connection with the college was severed." Some of the flunkees took the -news very casually, packed their trunks, sold their furniture, and -departed; others frankly wept or hastened to their instructors to plead -vainly that their grades be raised: all of them were required to leave -Haydensville at once.</p> - -<p>Hugh passed all of his courses but without distinction. His B in -trigonometry did not give him great satisfaction inasmuch as he had -received an A in exactly the same course in high school; nor was he -particularly proud of his B in English, since he knew that with a -little effort he could have "pulled" an A. The remainder of his grades -were C's and D's, mostly D's. He felt almost as much ashamed as Freddy -Dickson, who somehow hadn't "got going" and had been flunked out. Carl -received nothing less than a C, and his record made Hugh more ashamed of -his own. Carl never seemed to study, but he hadn't disgraced himself.</p> - -<p>Hugh spent many bitter hours thinking about his record. What would his -folks think? Worse, what would they <i>say</i>? Finally he wrote to them:</p> - - <p class="blkquot">Dear Mother and Dad:<br /> - - I have just found out my grades. I think that they will - be sent to you later. Well, I didn't flunk out but my - record isn't so hot. Only two of my grades are any good. - I got a B in English and Math but the others are all C's - and D's. I know that you will be ashamed of me and I'm - awfully sorry. I've thought of lots of excuses to write - to you, but I guess I won't write them. I know that I - didn't study hard enough. I had too much fun.<br /> - - I promise you that I'll do better next time. I know that - I can. Please don't scold me.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 20em;'>Lots of love,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>HUGH</span></p> - -<p>All that his mother wrote in reply was, "Of course, you will do better -next time." The kindness hurt dreadfully. Hugh wished that she had -scolded him.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>The college granted a vacation of three days between terms, but Hugh did -not go home, nor did many of the other undergraduates. There was -excitement in the air; the college was beginning to stew and boil again. -Fraternity rushing was scheduled for the second week of the new term.</p> - -<p>The administration strictly prohibited the rushing of freshmen the first -term; and, in general, the fraternities respected the rule. True, the -fraternity men were constantly visiting eligible freshmen, chatting with -them, discussing everything with them except fraternities. That subject -was barred.</p> - -<p>Hugh and Carl received a great many calls from upper-classmen the first -term, and Hugh had been astonished at Carl's reticence and silence. -Carl, the flippant, the voluble, the "wise-cracker," lost his tongue the -minute a man wearing a fraternity pin entered the room. Hugh was forced -to entertain the all-important guest. Carl never explained how much he -wanted to make a good fraternity, not any fraternity, only a <i>good</i> one; -nor did he explain that his secret studying the first term had been -inspired by his eagerness to be completely eligible. A good fraternity -would put the seal of aristocracy on him; it would mean everything to -the "old lady."</p> - -<p>For the first three nights of the rushing season the fraternities held -open house for all freshmen, but during the last three nights no -freshman was supposed to enter a fraternity house unless Invited.</p> - -<p>The first three nights found the freshmen traveling in scared groups -from fraternity house to fraternity house, sticking close together -unless rather vigorously pried apart by their hosts. Everybody was -introduced to everybody else; everybody tried rather hopelessly to make -conversation, and nearly everybody smoked too much, partly because they -were nervous and partly because the "smokes" were free.</p> - -<p>It was the last three nights that counted. Both Hugh and Carl received -invitations from most of the fraternities, and they stuck together, -religiously visiting them all. Hugh hoped that they would "make" the -same fraternity and that that fraternity would be Nu Delta. They were -together so consistently during the rushing period that the story went -around the campus that Carver and Peters were "going the same way," and -that Carver had said that he wouldn't accept a bid from any fraternity -unless it asked Peters, too.</p> - -<p>Hugh heard the story and couldn't understand it. Everybody seemed to -take it for granted that he would be bid. Why didn't they take it -equally for granted that Carl would be bid as well? He thought perhaps -it was because he was an athlete and Carl wasn't; but the truth was, of -course, that the upper-classmen perceived the <i>nouveau riche</i> quality in -Carl quite as clearly as he did himself. He knew that his money and the -fact that he had gone to a fashionable prep school would bring him bids, -but would they be from the right fraternities? That was the -all-important question.</p> - -<p>Those last three days of rushing were nerve-racking. At night the -invited freshmen—and that meant about two thirds of the class—were at -the fraternity houses until eleven; between classes and during every -free hour they were accosted by earnest fraternity men, each presenting -the superior merits of his fraternity. The fraternity men were wearier -than the freshmen. They sat up until the small hours every morning -discussing the freshmen they had entertained the night before.</p> - -<p>Hugh was in a daze. Over and over he heard the same words with only -slight variations. A fraternity man would slap a fat book with an -excited hand and exclaim: "This is 'Baird's Manual,' the final authority -on fraternities, and it's got absolutely all the dope. You can see where -we stand. Sixty chapters! You don't join just this one, y' understand; -you join all of 'em. You're welcome wherever you go." Or, if the number -of chapters happened to be small, "Baird's Manual" was referred to -again. "Only fifteen chapters, you see. We don't take in new chapters -every time they ask. We're darned careful to know what we're signing up -before we take anybody in." The word "aristocratic" was carefully -avoided, but it was just as carefully suggested.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Hugh that he was shown a photograph of every fraternity -house in the country. "Look," he would be told by his host, "look at -that picture to the right of the fireplace. That's our house at Cornell. -Isn't it the darb? And look at that one. It's our house at California. -Some palace. They've got sunken gardens. I was out there last year to -our convention. The boys certainly gave us a swell time."</p> - -<p>All this through a haze of tobacco smoke and over the noise of a jazz -orchestra and the chatter of a dozen similar conversations. Hugh was -excited but not really interested. The Nu Deltas invited him to their -house every evening, but they were not making a great fuss over him. -Perhaps they weren't going to give him a bid.... Well, he'd go some -other fraternity. No, he wouldn't, either. Maybe the Nu Delta's would -bid him later after he'd done something on the track.</p> - -<p>Although actual pledging was not supposed to be done until Saturday -night, Hugh was receiving what amounted to bids all that day and the -night before. Several times groups of fraternity men got into a room, -closed the door, and then talked to him until he was almost literally -dizzy. He was wise enough not to make any promises. His invariable -answer was: "I don't know yet. I won't know until Saturday night."</p> - -<p>Carl was having similar experiences, but neither of them had been talked -to by Nu Deltas. The president of the chapter, Merle Douglas, had said -to Hugh in passing, "We've got our eye on you, Carver," and that was all -that had been said. Carl did not have even that much consolation. But he -wasn't so much interested in Nu Delta as Hugh was; Kappa Zeta or Alpha -Sigma would do as well. Both of these fraternities were making violent -efforts to get Hugh, but they were paying only polite attention to Carl.</p> - -<p>On Friday night Hugh was given some advice that he had good reason to -remember in later years. At the moment it did not interest him a great -deal.</p> - -<p>He had gone to the Delta Sigma Delta house, not because he had the -slightest interest in that fraternity but because the Nu Deltas had not -urged him to remain with them. The Delta Sigma Deltas welcomed him -enthusiastically and turned him over to their president, Malcolm Graham, -a tall serious senior with sandy hair and quiet brown eyes.</p> - -<p>"Will you come up-stairs with me, Carver? I want to have a talk with -you," he said simply.</p> - -<p>Hugh hesitated. He didn't mind being talked <i>to</i>, but he was heartily -sick of being talked <i>at</i>.</p> - -<p>Graham noticed his hesitation and smiled. "Don't worry; I'm not going to -shanghai you, and I'm not going to jaw you to death, either."</p> - -<p>Hugh smiled in response. "I'm glad of that," he said wearily. "I've been -jawed until I don't know anything."</p> - -<p>"I don't doubt it. Come on; let's get away from this racket." He took -Hugh by the arm and led him up-stairs to his own room, which was -pleasantly quiet and restful after the noise they had left.</p> - -<p>When they were both seated in comfortable chairs, Graham began to talk. -"I know that you are being tremendously rushed, Carver, and I know that -you are going to get a lot of bids, too. I've been watching you all -through this week, and you seem dazed and confused to me, more confused -even than the average freshman. I think I know the reason."</p> - -<p>"What is it?" Hugh demanded eagerly.</p> - -<p>"I understand that your father is a Nu Delt."</p> - -<p>Hugh nodded.</p> - -<p>"And you're afraid that they aren't going to bid you."</p> - -<p>Hugh was startled. "How did you know?" He never thought of denying the -statement.</p> - -<p>"I guessed it. You were obviously worried; you visited other -fraternities; and you didn't seem to enjoy the attention that you were -getting. I'll tell you right now that you are worrying about nothing; -the Nu Delts will bid you. They are just taking you for granted; that's -all. You are a legacy, and you have accepted all their invitations to -come around. If you had stayed away one night, there would have been a -whole delegation rushing around the campus to hunt you up."</p> - -<p>Hugh relaxed. For the time being he believed Graham implicitly.</p> - -<p>"Now," Graham went on, "it's the Nu Delts that I want to talk about. Oh, -I'm not going to knock them," he hastened to add as Hugh eyed him -suspiciously. "I know that you have heard plenty of fraternities -knocking each other, but I am sure that you haven't heard any knocking -in this house."</p> - -<p>"No I haven't," Hugh admitted.</p> - -<p>"Well, you aren't going to, either. The Nu Delts are much more important -than we are. They are stronger locally, and they've got a very powerful -national organization. But I don't think that you have a very clear -notion about the Nu Delts or us or any other fraternity. I heard you -talking about fraternities the other night, and, if you will forgive me -for being awfully frank, you were talking a lot of nonsense."</p> - -<p>Hugh leaned forward eagerly. He wasn't offended, and for the first time -that week he didn't feel that he was being rushed.</p> - -<p>"Well, you have a lot of sentimental notions about fraternities that are -all bull; that's all. You think that the brothers are really brothers, -that they stick by each other and all that sort of thing. You seem to -think, too, that the fraternities are democratic. They aren't, or there -wouldn't be any fraternities. You don't seem to realize that -fraternities are among other things political organizations, fighting -each other on the campus for dear life. You've heard fraternities this -week knocking each other. Well, about nine tenths of what's been said is -either lies or true of every fraternity on the campus. These -fraternities aren't working together for the good of Sanford; they're -working like hell to ruin each other. You think that you are going to -like every man in the fraternity you join. You won't. You'll hate some -of them."</p> - -<p>Hugh was aroused and indignant. "If you feel that way about it, why do -you stay in a fraternity?"</p> - -<p>Graham smiled gravely. "Don't get angry, please. I stay because the -fraternity has its virtues as well as its faults. I hated the fraternity -the first two years, and I'm afraid that you're going to, too. You see, -I had the same sort of notions you have—and it hurt like the devil when -they were knocked into a cocked hat. The fraternity is a pleasant club: -it gets you into campus activities; and it gives you a social life in -college that you can't get without it. It isn't very important to most -men after they graduate. Just try to raise some money from the alumni -some time, and you'll find out. Some of them remain undergraduates all -their lives, and they think that the fraternity is important, but most -of them hardly think of it except when they come back to reunions. -They're more interested in their clubs or the Masons or something of -that sort."</p> - -<p>"My father hasn't remained an undergraduate all his life, but he's -interested in the Nu Delts," Hugh countered vigorously.</p> - -<p>"I suppose he is," Graham tactfully admitted, "but you'll find that most -men aren't. But that doesn't matter. You aren't an alumnus yet; you're a -freshman, and a fraternity is a darn nice thing to have around while you -are in college.</p> - -<p>"What I am going to say now," he continued, hesitating, "is pretty -touchy, and I hope that you won't be offended. I have been trying to -impress on you that the fraternity is most important while you are in -college, and, believe me, it's damned important. A fellow has a hell of -a time if he gets into the wrong fraternity.... I am sure that you are -going to get a lot of bids. Don't choose hastily. Spend to-morrow -thinking the various bunches over—and choose the one that has the -fellows that you like best, no matter what its standing on the campus -is. Be sure that you like the fellows; that is all-important. We want -you to come to us. I think that you would fit in here, but I am not -going to urge you. Think us over. If you like us, accept our bid; if you -don't, go some fraternity where you do like the fellows. And that's my -warning about the Nu Delts. Be sure that you like the fellows, or most -of them, anyway, before you accept their bid. Have you thought them -over?"</p> - -<p>"No," Hugh admitted, "I haven't."</p> - -<p>He didn't like Graham's talk; he thought that it was merely very clever -rushing. He did Graham an injustice. Graham had been strongly attracted -to Hugh and felt sure that he would be making a serious mistake if he -joined Nu Delta. Hugh's reaction, however, was natural. He had been -rushed in dozens of ingenious ways for a week; he had little reason, -therefore, to trust Graham or anybody else.</p> - -<p>Graham stood up. "I have a feeling, Carver," he said slowly, "that I -have flubbed this talk. I am sure that you'll know some day that I was -really disinterested and wanted to do my best for you."</p> - -<p>Hugh was softened—and smiled shyly as he lifted himself out of his -chair. "I know you did," he said with more gratitude in his voice than -he quite felt, "and I'm very grateful, but I'm so woozy now that I -don't know what to think."</p> - -<p>"I don't wonder. To tell you the truth, I am, too. I haven't got to bed -earlier than three o'clock any night this week, and right now I hardly -care if we pledge anybody to-morrow night." He continued talking as they -walked slowly down the stairs. "One more bit of advice. Don't go -anywhere else to-night. Go home to bed, and to-morrow think over what -I've told you. And," he added, holding out his hand, "even if you don't -come our way, I hope I see a lot of you before the end of the term."</p> - -<p>Hugh clasped his hand. "You sure will. Thanks a lot. Good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night."</p> - -<p>Hugh did go straight to his room and tried to think, but the effort met -with little success. He wanted desperately to receive a bid from Nu -Delta, and if he didn't—well, nothing else much mattered. Graham's -assertion that Nu Delta would bid him no longer brought him any comfort. -Why should Graham know what Nu Delta was going to do?</p> - -<p>Shortly after eleven Carl came in and threw himself wearily into a -chair. For a few minutes neither boy said anything; they stared into the -fire and frowned. Finally Carl spoke.</p> - -<p>"I can go Alpha Sig if I want," he said softly.</p> - -<p>Hugh looked up. "Good!" he exclaimed, honestly pleased. "But I hope we -can both go Nu Delt. Did they come right out and bid you?"</p> - -<p>"Er—no. Not exactly. It's kinda funny." Carl obviously wanted to tell -something and didn't know how to go about it.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean 'funny'? What happened?"</p> - -<p>Carl shifted around in his chair nervously, filled his pipe, lighted it, -and then forgot to smoke.</p> - -<p>"Well," he began slowly, "Morton—you know that Alpha Sig, Clem Morton, -the senior—well, he got me off into a corner to-night and talked to me -quite a while, shot me a heavy line of dope. At first I didn't get him -at all. He was talking about how they needed new living-room furniture -and that sort of thing. Finally I got him. It's like this—well, it's -this way: they need money. Oh, hell! Hugh, don't you see? They want -money—and they know I've got it. All I've got to do is to let them know -that I'll make the chapter a present of a thousand or two after -initiation—and I can be an Alpha Sig."</p> - -<p>Hugh was sitting tensely erect and staring at Carl dazedly.</p> - -<p>"You mean," he asked slowly, "that they want you to buy your way in?"</p> - -<p>Carl gave a short, hard laugh. "Well, nobody said anything vulgar like -that, Hugh, but you've got the big idea."</p> - -<p>"The dirty pups! The goddamn stinkers! I hope you told Morton to go -straight to hell." Hugh jumped up and stood over Carl excitedly.</p> - -<p>"Keep your shirt on, Hugh. No, I didn't tell him to go to hell. I didn't -say anything, but I know that all I've got to do to get an Alpha Sig bid -to-morrow night is to let Morton know that I'd like to make the chapter -a present. And I'm not sure—but I think maybe I'll do it."</p> - -<p>"What!" Hugh cried. "You wouldn't, Carl! You know damn well you -wouldn't." He was almost pleading.</p> - -<p>"Hey, quit yelling and sit down." He got up, shoved Hugh back into his -chair, and then sat down again. "I want to make one of the Big Three; -I've got to. I don't believe that either Nu Delt or Kappa Zete is going -to bid me. See? This is my only chance—and I think that I'm going to -take it." He spoke deliberately, staring pensively into the fire.</p> - -<p>"I don't see how you can even think of such a thing," Hugh said in -painful wonderment. "Why, I'd rather never join a fraternity than buy -myself into one."</p> - -<p>"You aren't me."</p> - -<p>"No, I'm not you. Listen, Carl." Hugh turned in his chair and faced -Carl, who kept his eyes on the dying fire. "I'm going to say something -awfully mean, but I hope you won't get mad.... You remember you told -me once that you weren't a gentleman. I didn't believe you, but if you -buy yourself into that—that bunch of—of gutter-pups, I'll—I'll—oh, -hell, Carl, I'll have to believe it." He was painfully embarrassed, very -much in earnest, and dreadfully unhappy.</p> - -<p>"I told you that I wasn't a gentleman," Carl said sullenly. "Now you -know it."</p> - -<p>"I don't know anything of the sort. I'll never believe that you could do -such a thing." He stood up again and leaned over Carl, putting his hand -on his shoulder. "Listen, Carl," he said soberly, earnestly, "I promise -that I won't go Nu Delt or any other fraternity unless they take you, -too, if you'll promise me not to go Alpha Sig."</p> - -<p>Carl looked up wonderingly. "What!" he exclaimed. "You'll turn down Nu -Delt if they don't bid me, too?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Nu Delt or Kappa Zete or any other bunch. Promise me," he urged; -"promise me."</p> - -<p>Carl understood the magnitude of the sacrifice offered, and his eyes -became dangerously soft. "God! you're white, Hugh," he whispered -huskily, "white as hell. You go Nu Delt if they ask you—but I promise -you that I won't go Alpha Sig even if they bid me without pay." He held -out his hand, and Hugh gripped it hard. "I promise," he repeated, "on my -word of honor."</p> - -<p>At seven o'clock Saturday evening every freshman who had any reason at -all to think that he would get a bid—and some that had no -reason—collected in nervous groups in the living-room of the Union. At -the stroke of seven they were permitted to move up to a long row of -tables which were covered with large envelopes, one for every freshman. -They were arranged in alphabetical order, and in an incredibly short -time each man found the one addressed to him. Some of the envelopes were -stuffed with cards, each containing the freshman's name and the name of -the fraternity bidding him; some of them contained only one or two -cards—and some of them were empty. The boys who drew empty envelopes -instantly left the Union without a word to anybody; the others tried to -find a free space where they could scan their cards unobserved. They -were all wildly excited and nervous. One glance at the cards, and their -faces either lighted with joy or went white with disappointment.</p> - -<p>Hugh found ten cards in his envelope—and one of them had Nu Delta -written on it. His heart leaped; for a moment he thought that he was -going to cry. Then he rushed around the Union looking for Carl. He found -him staring at a fan of cards, which he was holding like a hand of -bridge.</p> - -<p>"What luck?" Hugh cried.</p> - -<p>Carl handed him the cards. "Lamp those," he said, "and then explain. -They've got me stopped."</p> - -<p>He had thirteen bids, one from every fraternity in good standing, -including the so-called Big Three.</p> - -<p>When Hugh saw the Nu Delta card he yelled with delight.</p> - -<p>"I got a Nu Delt, too." His voice was trembling with excitement. "You'll -go with me, won't you?"</p> - -<p>"Of course, Hugh. But I don't understand."</p> - -<p>"Oh, what's the dif? Let's go."</p> - -<p>He tucked his arm in Carl's, and the two of them passed out of the Union -on their way to the Nu Delta house. Later both of them understood.</p> - -<p>Carl's good looks, his excellent clothes, his money, and the fact that -he had been to an expensive preparatory school were enough to insure him -plenty of bids even if he had been considerably less of a gentleman than -he was.</p> - -<p>Already the campus was ringing with shouts as freshmen entered -fraternity houses, each freshman being required to report at once to the -fraternity whose bid he was accepting.</p> - -<p>When Carl and Hugh walked up the Nu Delta steps, they were seized by -waiting upper-classmen and rushed into the living-room, where they were -received with loud cheers, slapped on the back, and passed around the -room, each upper-classman shaking hands with them so vigorously that -their hands hurt for an hour afterward. What pleasant pain! Each new -arrival was similarly received, but the excitement did not last long. -Both the freshmen and the upper-classmen were too tired to keep the -enthusiasm at the proper pitch. At nine o'clock the freshmen were sent -home with orders to report the next evening at eight.</p> - -<p>Carl and Hugh, proudly conscious of the pledge buttons in the lapels of -their coats, walked slowly across the campus, spent and weary, but -exquisitely happy.</p> - -<p>"They bid me on account of you," Carl said softly. "They didn't think -they could get you unless they asked me, too."</p> - -<p>"No," Hugh replied, "you're wrong. They took you for yourself. They knew -you would go where I did, and they were sure that I would go their way."</p> - -<p>Hugh was quite right. The Nu Deltas had felt sure of both of them and -had not rushed them harder because they were too busy to waste any time -on certainties.</p> - -<p>Carl stopped suddenly. "God, Hugh," he exclaimed. "Just suppose I had -offered the Alpha Sigs that cash. God!"</p> - -<p>"Aren't you glad you didn't?" Hugh asked happily.</p> - -<p>"Glad? Glad? Boy, I'm bug-house. And," he added softly, "I know the lad -I've got to thank."</p> - -<p>"Aw, go to hell."</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>The initiation season lasted two weeks, and the neophytes found that the -dormitory initiations had been merely child's play. They had to account -for every hour, and except for a brief time allowed every day for -studying, they were kept busy making asses of themselves for the -delectation of the upper-classmen.</p> - -<p>In the Nu Delta house a freshman had to be on guard every hour of the -day up to midnight. He was forced to dress himself in some outlandish -costume, the more outlandish the better, and announce every one who -entered or left the house. "Mr. Standish entering," he would bawl, or, -"Mr. Kerwin leaving." If he bawled too loudly, he was paddled; if he -didn't bawl loudly enough, he was paddled; and if there was no fault to -be found with his bawling; he was paddled anyway. Every freshman had to -supply his own paddle, a broad, stout oak affair sold at the cooperative -store at a handsome profit.</p> - -<p>If a freshman reported for duty one minute late, he was paddled; if he -reported one minute early, he was paddled. There was no end to the -paddling. "Assume the angle," an upper-classman would roar. The -unfortunate freshman then humbly bent forward, gripped his ankles with -his hands—and waited. The worst always happened. The upper-classman -brought the paddle down with a resounding whack on the seat of the -freshman's trousers.</p> - -<p>"Does it hurt?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>Another resounding whack. " <i>What?</i>"</p> - -<p>"No—no, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, if it doesn't hurt, I might as well give you another one." -And he gave him another one.</p> - -<p>A freshman was paddled if he forgot to say "sir" to an upper-classman; -he was paddled if he neglected to touch the floor with his fingers every -time he passed through a door in the fraternity house; he was paddled if -he laughed when an upper-classman told a joke, and he was paddled if he -didn't laugh; he was paddled if he failed to return from an errand in an -inconceivably short time: he was paddled for every and no reason, but -mainly because the upper-classmen, the sophomores particularly, got -boundless delight out of doing the paddling.</p> - -<p>Every night a freshman stood on the roof of the Nu Delta house and -announced the time every fifteen seconds. "One minute and fifteen -seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; one minute -and thirty seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; -one minute and forty-five seconds after nine, and all's well in the -halls of Nu Delta," and so on for an hour. Then he was relieved by -another freshman, who took up the chant.</p> - -<p>Nightly the freshmen had to entertain the upper-classmen, and if the -entertainment wasn't satisfactory, as it never was, the entertainers -were paddled. They had to run races, shoving pennies across the floor -with their noses. The winner was paddled for going too fast—"Didn't he -have any sense of sportsmanship?"—and the loser was paddled for going -too slow. Most of the freshmen lost skin off their noses and foreheads; -all of them shivered at the sight of a paddle. By the end of the first -week they were whispering to each other how many blisters they had on -their buttocks.</p> - -<p>It was a bitterly cold night in late February when the Nu Deltas took -the freshmen for their "walk." They drove in automobiles fifteen miles -into the country and then left the freshmen to walk back. It was four -o'clock in the morning when the miserable freshmen reached the campus, -half frozen, unutterably weary, but thankful that the end of the -initiation was at hand.</p> - -<p>Hugh was thankful for another thing; the Nu Deltas did not brand. He had -noticed several men in the swimming-pool with tiny Greek letters branded -on their chests or thighs. The branded ones seemed proud of their -permanent insignia, but the idea of a fraternity branding its members -like beef-cattle was repugnant to Hugh. He told Carl that he was darn -glad the Nu Deltas were above that sort of thing, and, surprisingly, -Carl agreed with him.</p> - -<p>The next night they were formally initiated. The Nu Delta house seemed -strangely quiet; levity was strictly prohibited. The freshmen were given -white robes such as the upper-classmen were wearing, the president -excepted, who wore a really handsome robe of blue and silver.</p> - -<p>Then they marched up-stairs to the "goat room." Once there, the -president mounted a dais; a "brother" stood on each side of him. Hugh -was so much impressed by the ritual, the black hangings of the room, the -fraternity seal over the dais, the ornate chandelier, the long speeches -of the president and his assistants, that he failed to notice that many -of the brothers were openly bored.</p> - -<p>Eventually each freshman was led forward by an upper-classman. He knelt -on the lowest step of the dais and repeated after the president the oath -of allegiance. Then one of the assisting brothers whispered to him the -password and taught him the "grip," a secret and elaborate method of -shaking hands, while the other pinned the jeweled pin to his vest.</p> - -<p>When each freshman had been received into the fraternity, the entire -chapter marched in twos down-stairs, singing the fraternity song. The -initiation was over; Carl and Hugh were Nu Delts.</p> - -<p>The whole ceremony had moved Hugh deeply, so deeply that he had hardly -been able to repeat the oath after the president. He thought the ritual -very beautiful, more beautiful even than the Easter service at church. -He left the Nu Delta house that night feeling a deeper loyalty for the -fraternity than he had words to express. He and Carl walked back to -Surrey 19 in silence. Neither was capable of speech, though both of them -wanted to give expression to their emotion in some way. They reached -their room.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Hugh shyly, "I guess I'll go to bed."</p> - -<p>"Me, too." Then Carl moved hesitatingly to where Hugh was standing. He -held out his hand and grinned, but his eyes were serious.</p> - -<p>"Good night—brother."</p> - -<p>Their hands met in the sacred grip.</p> - -<p>"Good night—brother."</p> -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="salome" id="salome" href="images/116.jpg"> - <img src="images/116-tb.jpg" alt="'DANCE, SALOME!'" width="561" /></a> - <p>"dance, salome!"</p> -</div> - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>To Hugh the remainder of the term was simply a fight to get an -opportunity to study. The old saying, "if study interferes with college, -cut out study," did not appeal to him. He honestly wanted to do good -work, but he found that the chance to do it was rare. Some one always -seemed to be in his room eager to talk; there was the fraternity meeting -to attend every Monday night; early in the term there was at least one -hockey or basketball game a week; later there were track meets, baseball -games, and tennis matches; he had to attend Glee Club rehearsals twice a -week; he ran every afternoon either in the gymnasium or on the cinder -path; some one always seduced him into going to the movies; he was -constantly being drawn into bull sessions; there was an occasional -concert: and besides all these distractions, there was a fraternity -dance, the excitement of Prom, a trip to three cities with the Glee -Club, and finally a week's vacation at home at Easter.</p> - -<p>Worst of all, none of his instructors was inspiring. He had been -assigned to a new section in Latin, and in losing Alling he lost the one -really enjoyable teacher he had had. The others were conscientious, -more or less competent, but there was little enthusiasm in their -teaching, nothing to make a freshman eager either to attend their -classes or to study the lessons they assigned. They did not make the -acquiring of knowledge a thrilling experience; they made it a duty—and -Hugh found that duty exceedingly irksome.</p> - -<p>He attended neither the fraternity dance nor the Prom. He had looked -forward enthusiastically to the "house dance," but after he had, along -with the other men in his delegation, cleaned the house from garret to -basement, he suddenly took to his bed with grippe. He groaned with -despair when Carl gave him glowing accounts of the dance and the -"janes." Carl for once, however, was circumspect; he did not tell Hugh -all that happened. He would have been hard put to explain his own -reticence, but although he thought "the jane who got pie-eyed" had been -enormously funny, he decided not to tell Hugh about her or the pie-eyed -brothers.</p> - -<p>No freshman was allowed to attend the Prom, but along with the other men -who weren't "dragging women" Hugh walked the streets and watched the -girls. There was a tea-dance at the fraternity house during Prom week. -Hugh said that he got a great kick out of it, but, as a matter of fact, -he remained only a short time; there was a hectic quality to both the -girls and the talk that confused him. For some reason he didn't like the -atmosphere; and he didn't know why. His excuse to the brothers and to -himself for leaving early was that he was in training and not supposed -to dance.</p> - -<p>Track above all things was absorbing his interest. He could hardly think -of anything else. He lay awake nights dreaming of the race he would run -against Raleigh. Sanford had three dual track meets a year, but the -first two were with small colleges and considered of little importance. -Only a point winner in the Raleigh meet was granted his letter.</p> - -<p>Hugh won the hundred in the sophomore-freshman meet and in a meet with -the Raleigh freshmen, so that he was given his class numerals. He did -nothing, however, in the Raleigh meet; he was much too nervous to run -well, breaking three times at the mark. He was set back two yards and -was never able to regain them. For a time he was bitterly despondent, -but he soon cheered up when he thought of the three years ahead of him.</p> - -<p>Spring brought first rain and slush and then the "sings." There was a -fine stretch of lawn in the center of the campus, and on clear nights -the students gathered there for a sing, one class on each side of the -lawn. First the seniors sang a college song, then the juniors, then the -sophomores, and then the freshmen. After each song, the other classes -cheered the singers, except when the sophomores and freshmen sang: they -always "razzed" each other. Hugh led the freshmen, and he never failed -to get a thrill out of singing a clear note and hearing his classmates -take it up.</p> - -<p>After each class had sung three or four songs, the boys gathered in the -center of the lawn, sang the college hymn, gave a cheer, and the sing -was over.</p> - -<p>On such nights, however, the singing really continued for hours. The -Glee Club often sang from the Union steps; groups of boys wandered arm -in arm around the campus singing; on every fraternity steps there were -youths strumming banjos and others "harmonizing": here, there, -everywhere young voices were lifted in song—not joyous nor jazzy but -plaintive and sentimental. Adeline's sweetness was extolled by unsure -barytones and "whisky" tenors; and the charms of Rosie O'Grady were -chanted in "close harmony" in every corner of the campus:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Sweet Rosie O'Grady,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>She's my pretty rose;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>She's my pretty lady,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>As every one knows.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And when we are married,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Oh, how happy we'll be,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>For I love sweet Rosie O'Grady</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And Rosie O'Grady loves me."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh loved those nights: the shadows of the elms, the soft spring -moonlight, the twanging banjos, the happy singing. He would never, so -long as he lived, hear "Rosie O'Grady" without surrendering to a tender, -sentimental mood; that song would always mean the campus and singing -youth.</p> - -<p>Suddenly examinations threw their baleful influence over the campus -again. Once more the excitement, but not so great this time, the -cramming, the rumors of examinations "getting out," the seminars, the -tutoring sections, the nervousness, the fear.</p> - -<p>Hugh, however, was surer of himself than he had been the first term, and -although he had no reason to be proud of the grades he received, he was -not particularly ashamed of them.</p> - -<p>He and Carl left the same day but by different trains. They had agreed -to room together again in Surrey 19; so they didn't feel that the -parting for the summer was very important.</p> - -<p>"You'll write, won't you, old man?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, Hugh—surest thing you know. Say, it don't seem possible that our -freshman year's over already. Why, hell, Hugh, we're sophomores."</p> - -<p>"So we are! What do you know about that?" Hugh's eyes shone. "Gosh!"</p> - -<p>Carl looked at his watch. "Hell, I've got to beat it." He picked up his -suit-case, dropped it, shook hands vigorously with Hugh, snatched up his -suit-case, and was off with a final, "Good-by, Hugh, old boy," sounding -behind him.</p> - -<p>Hugh settled back into a chair. He had half an hour to wait.</p> - -<p>"A sophomore.... Gosh!"</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh spent the summer at home, working on the farm, reading a little, -and occasionally visiting a lake summer resort a few miles away. Helen -had left Merrytown to attend a secretarial school in a neighboring city, -and Hugh was genuinely glad to find her gone when he returned from -college. Helen was becoming not only a bore but a problem. Besides, he -met a girl at Corley Lake, the summer resort, whom he found much more -fascinating. For a month or two he thought that he was in love with -Janet Harton. Night after night he drove to Corley Lake in his father's -car, sometimes dancing with Janet in the pavilion, sometimes canoeing -with her on the lake, sometimes taking her for long rides in the car, -but often merely wandering through the pines with her or sitting on the -shore of the lake and staring at the rippling water.</p> - -<p>Janet was small and delicate; she seemed almost fragile. She did -everything daintily—like a little girl playing tea-party. Her hands and -feet were exquisitely small, her features childlike and indefinite, -except her little coral mouth, which was as clearly outlined with color -as a doll's and as mobile as a fluttering leaf. She had wide blue eyes -and hair that was truly golden. Strangely, she had not bobbed it but -wore it bound into a shining coil around her head.</p> - -<p>Hugh wrote a poem to her. It began thus:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>Maiden with the clear blue eyes,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>Lady with the golden hair,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>Exquisite child, serenely wise,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>Sweetly tender, morning fair.</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>He wasn't sure that it was a very good poem; there was something -reminiscent about the first line, and he was dubious about "morning -fair." He had, however, studied German for a year in high school, and he -guessed that if <i>morgenschön</i> was all right in German it was all right -in English, too.</p> - -<p>They rarely talked. Hugh was content to sit for hours with the delicate -child nestling in his arm, her hand lying passive and cool in his. She -made him feel very strong and protective. Nights, he dreamed of doing -brave deeds for her, of saving her from terrible dangers. At first her -vague, fleeting kisses thrilled him, but as the weeks went by and his -passion grew, he found them strangely unsatisfying.</p> - -<p>When she cuddled her lovely head in the hollow of his shoulder, he -would lean forward and whisper: "Kiss me, Janet. Kiss me." Obediently -she would turn her face upward, her little mouth pursed into a coral -bud, but if he held her too tightly or prolonged the kiss, she pushed -him away or turned her face. Then he felt repelled, chilled. She kissed -him much as she kissed her mother every night, and he wanted—well he -didn't quite know what he did want except that he didn't want to be -kissed <i>that</i> way.</p> - -<p>Finally he protested. "What's the matter, Janet?" he asked gently. -"Don't you love me?"</p> - -<p>"Of course," she answered calmly in her small flute-like voice; "of -course I love you, but you are so rough. You mustn't kiss me hard like -that; it isn't nice."</p> - -<p>Nice! Hugh felt as if she had slapped his face. Then he knew that she -didn't understand at all. He tried to excuse her by telling himself that -she was just a child—she was within a year of his own age—and that she -would love him the way he did her when she grew older; but down in his -heart he sensed the fact that she wasn't capable of love, that she -merely wanted to be petted and caressed as a child did. The shadows and -the moonlight did not move her as they did him, and she thought that he -was silly when he said that he could hear a song in the night breeze. -She had said that his poem was very pretty. That was all. Well, maybe -it wasn't a very good poem, but it had—well, it had—it had something -in it that wasn't just pretty.</p> - -<p>He began to visit the lake less often and to wish that September and the -opening of college would arrive. When the day finally came to return, he -was almost as much excited as he had been the year before. Gosh! it -would be good to see Carl again. The bum had written only once. Yeah, -and Pudge Jamieson, too, and Larry Stillwell, and Bill Freeman, -and—yes, by golly! Merton Billings. He'd be glad to see old Fat -Billings. He wondered if Merton was as fat as ever and as pure. And all -the brothers at the Nu Delta house. He'd been too busy to get really -acquainted with them last year; but this year, by gosh, he'd get to know -all of them. It certainly would be great to be back and be a sophomore -and make the little frosh stand around.</p> - -<p>He didn't carry his suit-case up the hill this time; he checked it and -sent a freshman for it later. When he arrived at Surrey 19 Carl was -already there—and he was kneeling before a trunk when Hugh walked into -the room. Both of them instantly remembered the identical scene of the -year before.</p> - -<p>Carl jumped to his feet. "Hullo—who are you?" he demanded, his face -beaming.</p> - -<p>Hugh pretended to be frightened and shy. "I'm Hugh Carver. I—I guess -I'm going to room with you."</p> - -<p>"You sure are!" yelled Carl, jumping over the trunk and landing on Hugh. -"God! I'm glad to see you. Put it there." They shook hands and stared at -each other with shining eyes.</p> - -<p>Then they began to talk, interrupting each other, gesticulating, -occasionally slapping each other violently on the back or knee, shouting -with laughter as one of them told of a summer experience that struck -them as funny. They were both so glad to get back to college, so glad to -see each other, that they were almost hysterical. And when they left -Surrey 19 arm in arm on their way to the Nu Delta house "to see the -brothers," their cup of bliss was full to the brim and running over.</p> - -<p>"Criminy, the ol' campus sure does look good," said Hugh ecstatically. -"Watch the frosh work." He was suddenly reminded of something. "Hey, -freshman!" he yelled at a big, red-faced youngster who was to be -full-back on the football team a year hence.</p> - -<p>The freshman came on a run. "Yes—yes, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Here's a check. Take it down to the station and get my suit-case. Take -it up to Surrey Nineteen and put it in the room. The door's open. Hurry -up now; I'm going to want it pretty soon."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. I'll hurry." And the freshman was off running.</p> - -<p>Hugh and Carl grinned at each other, linked arms again, and continued -their way across the campus. When they entered the Nu Delta house a -shout went up. "Hi, Carl! Hi, Hugh! Glad to see you back. Didya have a -good summer? Put it there, ol' kid"—and they shook hands, gripping each -other's forearm at the same time.</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>Hugh tried hard to become a typical sophomore and failed rather badly. -He retained much of the shyness and diffidence that gives the freshman -his charm, and he did not succeed very well in acquiring the swagger, -the cocky, patronizing manner, the raucous self-assurance that -characterize the true sophomore.</p> - -<p>He found, too, that he couldn't lord it over the freshmen very well, and -at times he was nothing less than a renegade to his class. He was -constantly giving freshmen correct information about their problems, and -during the dormitory initiations he more than once publicly objected to -some "stunt" that seemed to him needlessly insulting to the initiates. -Because he was an athlete, his opinion was respected, and quite -unintentionally he won several good friends among the freshmen. His -objections had all been spontaneous, and he was rather sorry about them -afterward. He felt that he must be soft, that he ought to be able to -stand anything that anybody else could. Further, he felt that there -must be something wrong with his sense of humor; things that struck lots -of his classmates as funny seemed merely disgusting to him.</p> - -<p>He wanted very much to tell Carl about Janet, but for several weeks the -opportunity did not present itself. There was too much excitement about -the campus; the mood of the place was all wrong, and Hugh, although he -didn't know it, was very sensitive to moods and atmosphere.</p> - -<p>Finally one night in October he and Carl were seated in their big chairs -before the fire. They had been walking that afternoon, and Hugh had been -swept outside of himself by the brilliance of the autumn foliage. He was -emotionally and physically tired, feeling that vague, melancholy -happiness that comes after an intense but pleasant experience. Carl -leaned back to the center-table and switched off the study light.</p> - -<p>"Pleasanter with just the firelight," he said quietly. He, too, had -something that he wanted to tell, and the less light the better.</p> - -<p>Hugh sighed and relaxed comfortably into his chair. The shadows were -thick and mysterious behind them; the flames leaped merrily in the -fireplace. Both boys sat silent, staring into the fire.</p> - -<p>Finally Hugh spoke.</p> - -<p>"I met a girt this summer, Carl," he said softly.</p> - -<p>"Yeah?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah. Little peach. Awf'lly pretty. Dainty, you know. Awf'lly -dainty—like a little kid. You know."</p> - -<p>Carl had slumped down into his chair. He was smoking his pipe and -staring pensively at the flames. "Un-huh. Go on."</p> - -<p>"Well, I fell pretty hard. She was so—er, dainty. She always reminded -me of a little girl playing lady. She had golden hair and blue eyes, the -bluest eyes I've ever seen; oh, lots bluer than mine, lots bluer. And -little bits of hands and feet."</p> - -<p>Carl continued to puff his pipe and stare at the fire. "Pet?" he asked -dreamily.</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh. Yeah, she petted—but she was kinda funny—cold, you know, and -kinda scared. Gee, Carl, I was crazy about her. I—I even wrote her a -poem. I guess it wasn't very good, but I don't think she knew what it -was about. I guess I'm off her now, though. She's too cold. I don't want -a girl to fall over me—my last girl did that—but, golly, Carl, Janet -didn't understand. I don't think she knows anything about love."</p> - -<p>"Some of 'em don't," Carl remarked philosophically, slipping deeper into -his chair. "They just pet."</p> - -<p>"That's the way she was. She liked me to hold her and kiss her just as -long as I acted like a big brother, but, criminy, when I felt that soft -little thing in my arms, I didn't feel like a big brother; I loved her -like hell.... She was awfully sweet," he added regretfully; "I wish she -wasn't so cold."</p> - -<p>"Hard luck, old man," said Carl consolingly, "hard luck. Guess you -picked an iceberg."</p> - -<p>For a few minutes the room was quiet except for the crackling of the -fire, which was beginning to burn low. The shadows were creeping up on -the boys; the flames were less merry.</p> - -<p>Carl took his pipe out of his mouth and drawled softly, "I had better -luck."</p> - -<p>Hugh pricked up his ears. "You haven't really fallen in love, have you?" -he demanded eagerly. Carl had often said that he would never fall in -love, that he was "too wise" to women.</p> - -<p>"No, I didn't fall in love; nothing like that. I met a bunch of janes -down at Bar Harbor. Some of them I'd known before, but I met some new -ones, too. Had a damn good time. Some of those janes certainly could -neck, and they were ready for it any time. Gee, if the old lady hadn't -been there, I'd a been potted about half the time. As it was, I drank -enough gin and Scotch to float a battle-ship. Well, the old lady had to -go to New York on account of some business; so I went down to Christmas -Cove to visit some people I know there. Christmas Cove's a nice place; -not so high-hat as Bar Harbor, but still it's a nice place."</p> - -<p>Hugh felt that Carl was leaving the main track, and he hastened to -shunt him back. "Sure," he said in cheerful agreement; "sure it is—but -what happened?"</p> - -<p>"What happened? Oh—oh, yes!" Carl brought himself back to the present -with an obvious effort. "Sure, I'll tell you what happened. Well, there -was a girl there named Elaine Marston. She wasn't staying with the folks -I was, but they knew her, so I saw a lot of her. See?"</p> - -<p>"Sure." Hugh wished he would hurry up. Carl didn't usually wander all -over when telling a story. This must be something special.</p> - -<p>"Well, I saw lots of her. Lots. Pretty girl, nice family and everything, -but she liked her booze and she liked to pet. Awful hot kid. Well, one -night we went to a dance, and between dances we had a lot of gin I had -brought with me. Good stuff, too. I bought it off a guy who brought it -down from Canada himself. Where was I? Oh, yes, at the dance. We both -got pie-eyed; I was all liquored up, and I guess she was, too. After the -dance was over, I dared her to walk over to South Bristol—that's just -across the island, you know—and then walk back again. Well, we hadn't -gone far when we decided to sit down. We were both kinda dizzy from the -gin. You have to go through the woods, you know, and it's dark as hell -in there at night.... We sat down among some ferns and I began to pet -her. Don't know why—just did.... Oh, hell! what's the use of going -into details? You can guess what happened."</p> - -<p>Hugh sat suddenly erect. "You didn't—"</p> - -<p>Carl stood up and stretched. "Yeah," he yawned, "I did it. Lots of times -afterwards."</p> - -<p>Hugh was dazed. He didn't know what to think. For an instant he was -shocked, and then he was envious. "Wonder if Janet would have gone the -whole way," flitted across his mind. He instantly dismissed the -question; he felt that it wasn't fair to Janet. But Carl? Gosh!</p> - -<p>Carl yawned again. "Great stuff," he said nonchalantly. "Sleepy as hell. -Guess I'll hit the hay." He eyed Hugh suspiciously. "You aren't shocked, -are you? You don't think I'm a moral leper or anything like that?" He -attempted to be light but wasn't altogether successful.</p> - -<p>"Of course not." Hugh denied the suggestion vehemently, and yet down in -his heart he felt a keen disappointment. He hardly knew why he was -disappointed, but he was. "Going to bed?" he asked as casually as he -could.</p> - -<p>"Yeah. Good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night, old man."</p> - -<p>Each boy went to his own bedroom, Hugh to go to bed and think Carl's -story over. It thrilled him, and he envied Carl, and yet—and yet he -wished Carl hadn't done it. It made him and Carl different—sorta not -the same; no that wasn't it. He didn't know just what the trouble was, -but there was a sharp sting of disillusionment that hurt. He would have -been more confused had he known what was happening in Carl's room.</p> - -<p>Carl had walked into his own bedroom, lighted the light, and closed the -door. Then he walked to the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror, -stared a long time as if the face were somehow new to him.</p> - -<p>There was a picture of the "old lady" on the dresser. It caught his eye, -and he flinched. It seemed to look at him reproachfully. He thought of -his mother, and he thought of how he had bluffed Hugh. He had cried -after his first experience with the girl.</p> - -<p>He looked again into the mirror. "You goddamn hypocrite," he said -softly; "you goddamn hypocrite." His lip curled in contempt at his -image.</p> - -<p>He began to undress rapidly. The eyes of the "old lady" in the picture -seemed to follow him around the room. The thought of her haunted him. -Desperately, he switched out the light.</p> - -<p>Once in bed, he rolled over on his stomach and buried his face in the -pillow. "God!" he whispered. "God!"</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> - -<p>Sanford defeated Raleigh this year in football, and for a time the -college was wild with excitement and delight. Most of the free lumber in -Haydensville was burned in a triumphant bonfire, and many of the -undergraduates celebrated so joyously with their winnings that they -looked sadly bedraggled for several days afterward.</p> - -<p>The victory was discussed until the boys were thoroughly sick of it, and -then they settled down to a normal life, studying; playing pool, -billiards, and cards; going to the movies, reading a little, and holding -bull sessions.</p> - -<p>Hugh attended many bull sessions. Some of them he found interesting, but -many of them were merely orgies of filthy talk, the participants vying -with one another in telling the dirtiest stories; and although Hugh was -not a prig, he was offended by a dirty story that was told merely for -the sake of its dirt. Pudge Jamieson's stories were smutty, but they -were funny, too, and he could send Hugh into paroxysms of laughter any -time that he chose.</p> - -<p>One night in late November Hugh was in Gordon Ross's room in Surrey -along with four others. Ross was a senior, a quiet man with gray eyes, -rather heavy features, and soft brown hair. He was considerably older -than the others, having worked for several years before he came to -college. He listened to the stories that were being told, occasionally -smiled, but more often studied the group curiously.</p> - -<p>The talk became exceedingly nasty, and Hugh was about to leave in -disgust when the discussion suddenly turned serious.</p> - -<p>"Do you know," said George Winsor abruptly, "I wonder why we hold these -smut sessions. I sit here and laugh like a fool and am ashamed of myself -half the time. And this isn't the only smut session that's going on -right now. I bet there's thirty at least going on around the campus. Why -are we always getting into little groups and covering each other with -filth? College men are supposed to be gentlemen, and we talk like a lot -of gutter-pups." Winsor was a sophomore, a fine student, and thoroughly -popular. He looked like an unkempt Airedale. His clothes, even when new, -never looked neat, and his rusty hair refused to lie flat. He had an -eager, quick way about him, and his brown eyes were very bright and -lively.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's what I want to know," Hugh chimed in, forgetting all about -his desire to leave. "I'm always sitting in on bull sessions, but I -think they re rotten. About every so often I make up my mind that I -won't take part in another one, and before I know it somebody's telling -me the latest and I'm listening for all I'm worth."</p> - -<p>"That's easy,"' Melville Burbank answered. He was a junior with a -brilliant record. "You're merely sublimating your sex instincts, that's -all. If you played around with cheap women more, you wouldn't be -thinking about sex all the time and talking smut."</p> - -<p>"You're crazy!" It was Keith Nutter talking, a sophomore notorious for -his dissipations. "Hell, I'm out with bags all the time, as you damn -well know. My sex instincts don't need sublimating, or whatever you call -it, and I talk smut as much as anybody—more than some."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you're just naturally dirty," Burbank said, his voice edged -with sarcasm. He didn't like Nutter. The boy seemed gross to him.</p> - -<p>"Go to hell! I'm no dirtier than anybody else." Nutter was not only -angry but frankly hurt. "The only difference between me and the rest of -you guys is that I admit that I chase around with rats, and the rest of -you do it on the sly. I'm no hypocrite."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come off, Keith," Gordon Ross said quietly; "you're not fair. I -admit that lots of the fellows are chasing around with rats on the sly, -but lots of them aren't, too. More fellows go straight around this -college than you think. I know a number that have never touched a woman. -They just hate to admit they're pure, that's all; and you take their -bluff for the real thing."</p> - -<p>"You've got to show me." Nutter was almost sullen. "I admit that I'm no -angel, but I don't believe that I'm a damn bit worse than the average. -Besides, what's wrong about it, anyhow? It's just as natural as eating, -and I don't see where there is anything worse about it."</p> - -<p>George Winsor stood up and leaned against the mantel. He ran his fingers -through his hair until it stood grotesquely on end. "Oh, that's the old -argument. I've heard it debated in a hundred bull sessions. One fellow -says it's all wrong, and another fellow says it's all right, and you -never get anywhere. I want somebody to tell me what's wrong about it and -what's right. God knows you don't find out in your classes. They have -Doc Conners give those smut talks to us in our freshman year, and a -devil of a lot of good they do. A bunch of fellows faint and have to be -lugged out, and the Doc gives you some sickening details about venereal -diseases, and that's as far as you get. Now, I'm all messed up about -this sex business, and I'll admit that I'm thinking about it all the -time, too. Some fellows say it's all right to have a woman, and some -fellows say it's all wrong, but I notice none of them have any use for a -woman who isn't straight."</p> - -<p>All of the boys were sitting in easy-chairs except Donald Ferguson, who -was lying on the couch and listening in silence. He was a handsome youth -with Scotch blue eyes and sandy hair. Women were instantly attracted by -his good looks, splendid physique, slow smile, and quiet drawl.</p> - -<p>He spoke for the first time. "The old single-standard fight," he said, -propping his head on his hand. "I don't see any sense in scrapping about -that any more. We've got a single standard now. The girls go just as -fast as the fellows."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's not so," Hugh exclaimed. "Girls don't go as far as fellows."</p> - -<p>Ferguson smiled pleasantly at Hugh and drawled; "Shut up, innocent; you -don't know anything about it. I tell you the old double standard has -gone all to hell."</p> - -<p>"You're exaggerating, Don, just to get Hugh excited," Ross said in his -quiet way. "There are plenty of decent girls. Just because a lot of them -pet on all occasions isn't any reason to say that they aren't straight. -I'm older than you fellows, and I guess I've had a lot more experience -than most of you. I've had to make my own way since I was a kid, and -I've bumped up against a lot of rough customers. I worked in a lumber -camp for a year, and after you've been with a gang like that for a -while, you'll understand the difference between them and college -fellows. Those boys are bad eggs. They just haven't any morals, that's -all. They turn into beasts every pay night; and bad as some of our -college parties are, they aren't a circumstance to a lumber town on pay -night."</p> - -<p>"That's no argument," George Winsor said excitedly, taking his pipe out -of his mouth and gesticulating with it. "Just because a lumberjack is a -beast is no reason that a college man is all right because he's less of -a beast. I tell you I get sick of my own thoughts, and I get sick of the -college when I hear about some things that are done. I keep straight, -and I don't know why I do, I despise about half the fellows that chase -around with rats, and sometimes I envy them like hell. Well, what's the -sense in me keeping straight? What's the sense in anybody keeping -straight? Fellows that don't seem to get along just as well as those -that do. What do you think, Mel? You've been reading Havelock Ellis and -a lot of ducks like that."</p> - -<p>Burbank tossed a cigarette butt into the fire and gazed into the flames -for a minute before speaking, his homely face serious and troubled. "I -don't know what to think," he replied slowly. "Ellis tells about some -things that make you fairly sick. So does Forel. The human race can be -awfully rotten. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm all mixed up. -Sometimes life just doesn't seem worth living to me, what with the filth -and the slums and the greed and everything. I've been taking a course -in sociology, and some of the things that Prof Davis has been telling us -make you wonder why the world goes on at all. Some poet has a line -somewhere about man's inhumanity to man, and I find myself thinking -about that all the time. The world's rotten as hell, and I don't see how -anything can be done about it. I don't think sometimes that it's worth -living in. I can understand why people commit suicide." He spoke softly, -gazing into the fire.</p> - -<p>Hugh had given him rapt attention. Suddenly he spoke up, forgetting his -resolve not to say anything more after Ferguson had called him -"innocent." "I think you're wrong, Mel," he said positively. "I was -reading a book the other day called 'Lavengro.' It's all about Gipsies. -Well, this fellow Lavengro was all busted up and depressed; he's just -about made up his mind to commit suicide when he meets a friend of his, -a Gipsy. He tells the Gipsy that he's going to bump himself off, that he -doesn't see anything in life to live for. Then the Gipsy answers him. -Gee, it hit me square in the eye, and I memorized it on the spot. I -think I can say it. He says: 'There's night and day, brother, both sweet -things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's -likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would -wish to die?' I think that's beautiful," he added simply, "and I think -it's true, too."</p> - -<p>"Good for you, Hugh," Ross said quietly.</p> - -<p>Hugh blushed with pleasure, but he was taken back by Nutter's vigorous -rejoinder. "Bunk!" he exclaimed. "Hooey! The sun, moon, and stars, and -all that stuff sounds pretty, but it isn't life. Life's earning a -living, and working like hell, and women, and pleasure. The 'Rubaiyat' -'s the only poem—if you're going to quote poetry. That's the only poem -I ever saw that had any sense to it.</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 8em;'>"Come, Beloved, fill the Cup that clears</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 8.3em;'>To-day of past Regrets and future Fears.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 8.3em;'>To-morrow? Why, To-morrow I may be</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 8.3em;'>Myself with Yesterday's seven thousand Years.</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>You bet. You never can tell when you're going to be bumped off, and so -you might just as well have a good time while you can. You damn well -don't know what's coming after you kick the bucket."</p> - -<p>"Good stuff, the 'Rubaiyat,'" said Ferguson lazily. He was lying on his -back staring at the ceiling. "I bet I've read it a hundred times. When -they turn down an empty glass for me, it's going to be <i>empty</i>. I don't -know what I'm here for or where I'm going or why. 'Into this world and -why not knowing,' and so on. My folks sent me to Sunday-school and -brought me up to be a good little boy. I believed just about everything -they told me until I came to college. Now I know they told me a lot of -damned lies. And I've talked with a lot of fellows who've had the same -experience.... Anybody got a butt?"</p> - -<p>Burbank, who was nearest to him, passed him a package of cigarettes. -Ferguson extracted one, lighted it, blew smoke at the ceiling, and then -quietly continued, drawling lazily: "Most fellows don't tell their folks -anything, and there's no reason why they should, either. Our folks lie -to us from the time we are babies. They lie to us about birth and God -and life. My folks never told me the truth about anything. When I came -to college I wasn't very innocent about women, but I was about -everything else. I believed that God made the world in six days the way -the Bible says, and that some day the world was coming to an end and -that we'd all be pulled up to heaven where Christ would give us the -once-over. Then he'd ship some of us to hell and give the good ones -harps. Well, since I've found out that all that's hooey I don't believe -in much of anything."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you are talking about evolution," said Ross. "Well, Prof -Humbert says that evolutions hasn't anything to do with the Bible—He -says that science is science and that religion is religion and that the -two don't mix. He says that he holds by evolution but that that doesn't -make Christ's philosophy bad."</p> - -<p>"No," Burbank agreed, "it doesn't make it bad; but that isn't the point. -I've read the Bible, which I bet is more than the rest of you can say, -and I've read the Sermon on the Mount a dozen times. It's darn good -sense, but what good does it do? The world will never practice Christ's -philosophy. The Bible says, 'Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly -upward,' and, believe me, that's damn true. If people would be pure and -good, then Christ's philosophy would work, but they aren't pure and -good; they aren't made pure and good, they're made selfish, and bad: -they're made, mind you, made full of evil and lust. I tell you it's all -wrong. I've been reading and reading, and the more I read the more I'm -convinced that we're all rotten—and that if there is a god he made us -rotten."</p> - -<p>"You're wrong!" They all turned toward Winsor, who was still standing by -the fireplace; even Ferguson rolled over and looked at the excited boy. -"You're wrong," he repeated, "all wrong. I admit all that's been said -about parents. They do cheat us just as Don said. I never tell my folks -anything that really matters, and I don't know any other fellows that -do, either. I suppose there are some, but I don't know them. And I admit -that there is sin and vice, but I don't admit that Christ's philosophy -is useless. I've read the Sermon on the Mount, too. That's about all of -the Bible that I have read, but I've read that; and I tell you you're -all wrong. There is enough good in man to make that philosophy -practical. Why, there is more kindness and goodness around than we know -about. We see the evil, and we know we have lusts and—and things, but -we do good, too. And Hugh was right when he talked a while ago about the -beauty in the world. There's lots of it, lots and lots of it. There's -beautiful poetry and beautiful music and beautiful scenery; and there -are people who appreciate all of it. I tell you that in spite of -everything life is worth living. And I believe in Christ's philosophy, -too. I don't know whether He is the son of God or not—I think that He -must be—but that doesn't make any difference. Look at the wonderful -influence He has had."</p> - -<p>"Rot," said Burbank calmly, "absolute rot. There has never been a good -deed done in His name; just the Inquisition and the -what-do-you-call-'ems in Russia. Oh, yes, pogroms—and wars and robbing -people. Christianity is just a name; there isn't any such thing. And -most of the professional Christians that I've seen are damn fools. I -tell you, George, it's all wrong. We're all in the dark, and I don't -believe the profs know any more about it than we do."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, they do," Hugh exclaimed; "they must. Think of all the -studying they've done."</p> - -<p>"Bah." Burbank was contemptuous. "They've read a lot of books, that's -all. Most of them never had an idea in their lives. Oh, I know that -some of them think; if they didn't, I'd leave college to-morrow. It's -men like Davis and Maxwell and Henley and Jimpson who keep me here. But -most of the profs can't do anything more than spout a few facts that -they've got out of books. No, they don't know any more about it than we -do. We don't know why we're here or where we're going or what we ought -to do while we are here. And we get into groups and tell smutty stories -and talk about women and religion, and we don't know any more than when -we started. Think of all the talk that goes on around this college about -sex. There's no end to it. Some of the fellows say positively there's no -sense in staying straight; and a few, damn few, admit that they think a -fellow ought to leave women alone, but most of them are in a muddle."</p> - -<p>He rose and stretched. "I've got to be going—philosophy quiz -to-morrow." He smiled. "I don't agree with Nutter, and I don't agree -with George, and I don't agree with you, Don; and the worst of it is -that I don't agree with myself. You fellows can bull about this some -more if you want to; I've got to study."</p> - -<p>"No, they can't," said Ross. "Not here, anyway. I've got to study, too. -The whole of you'll have to get out."</p> - -<p>The boys rose and stretched. Ferguson rolled lazily off the couch. -"Well," he said with a yawn, "this has been very edifying. I've heard -it all before in a hundred bull sessions, and I suppose I'll hear it all -again. I don't know why I've hung around. There's a little dame that -I've got to write a letter to, and, believe me, she's a damn sight more -interesting than all your bull." He strolled out of the door, drawling a -slow "good night" over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Hugh went to his room and thought over the talk. He was miserably -confused. Like Ferguson he had believed everything that his father and -mother—and the minister—had told him, and he found himself beginning -to discard their ideas. There didn't seem to be any ideas to put in the -place of those he discarded. Until Carl's recent confidence he had -believed firmly in chastity, but he discovered, once the first shock had -worn off, that he liked Carl the unchaste just as much as he had Carl -the chaste. Carl seemed neither better nor worse for his experience.</p> - -<p>He was lashed by desire; he was burning with curiosity—and yet, and yet -something held him back. Something—he hardly knew what it was—made him -avoid any woman who had a reputation for moral laxity. He shrank from -such a woman—and desired her so intensely that he was ashamed.</p> - -<p>Life was suddenly becoming very complicated, more complicated, it -seemed, every day. With other undergraduates he discussed women and -religion endlessly, but he never reached any satisfactory conclusions. -He wished that he knew some professor that he could talk to. Surely some -of them must know the answers to his riddles....</p> -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="popularity" id="popularity" href="images/164.jpg"> - <img src="images/164-tb.jpg" alt="HUGH'S POPULARITY IS ESTABLISHED AFTER THE FIRST ATHLETIC TRY-OUTS." - width="563" /></a> - <p>hugh's popularity is established after the first athletic try-outs.</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh wasn't troubled only by religion and sex; the whole college was -disturbing his peace of mind: all of his illusions were being ruthlessly -shattered. He had supposed that all professors were wise men, that their -knowledge was almost limitless, and he was finding that many of the -undergraduates were frankly contemptuous of the majority of their -teachers and that he himself was finding inspiration from only a few of -them. He went to his classes because he felt that he had to, but in most -of them he was confused or bored. He learned more in the bull sessions -than he did in the class-room, and men like Ross and Burbank were -teaching him more than his instructors.</p> - -<p>Further, Nu Delta was proving a keen disappointment. More and more he -found himself thinking of Malcolm Graham's talk to him during the -rushing season of his freshman year. He often wished that Graham were -still in college so that he could go to him for advice. The fraternity -was not the brotherhood that he had dreamed about; it was composed of -several cliques warring with each other, never coalescing into a single -group except to contest the control of a student activity with some -other fraternity. There were a few "brothers" that Hugh liked, but most -of them were not his kind at all. Many of them were athletes taken into -the fraternity because they were athletes and for no other reason, and -although Hugh liked two of the athletes—they were really splendid -fellows—he was forced to admit that three of them were hardly better -than thugs, cheap muckers with fine bodies. Then there were the snobs, -usually prep school men with more money than they could handle wisely, -utterly contemptuous of any man not belonging to a fraternity or of one -belonging to any of the lesser fraternities. These were the "smooth -boys," interested primarily in clothes and "parties," passing their -courses by the aid of tutors or fraternity brothers who happened to -study.</p> - -<p>Hugh felt that he ought to like all of his fraternity brothers, but, try -as he would, he disliked the majority of them. Early in his sophomore -year he knew that he ought to have "gone" Delta Sigma Delta, that that -fraternity contained a group of men whom he liked and respected, most of -them, at least. They weren't prominent in student activities, but they -were earnest lads as a whole, trying hard to get something out of -college.</p> - -<p>The Nu Delta meetings every Monday night were a revelation to him. The -brothers were openly bored; they paid little or no attention to the -business before them. The president was constantly calling for order -and not getting it. During the rushing season in the second term, -interest picked up. Freshmen were being discussed. Four questions were -inevitably asked. Did the freshman have money? Was he an athlete? Had he -gone to a prep school? What was his family like?</p> - -<p>Hugh had been very much attracted by a lad named Parker. He was a -charming youngster with a good mind and beautiful manners. In general, -only bad manners were <i>au fait</i> at Sanford; so Parker was naturally -conspicuous. Hugh proposed his name for membership to Nu Delta.</p> - -<p>"He's a harp," said a brother scornfully. "At any rate, he's a -Catholic."</p> - -<p>That settled that. Only Protestants were eligible to Nu Delta at -Sanford, although the fraternity had no national rule prohibiting -members of other religions.</p> - -<p>The snobbery of the fraternity cut Hugh deeply. He was a friendly lad -who had never been taught prejudice. He even made friends with a Jewish -youth and was severely censured by three fraternity brothers for that -friendship. He was especially taken to task by Bob Tucker, the -president.</p> - -<p>"Look here, Hugh," Tucker said sternly, "you've got to draw the line -somewhere. I suppose Einstein is a good fellow and all that, but you've -been running around with him a lot. You've even brought him here -several times. Of course, you can have anybody in your room you want, -but we don't want any Jews around the house. I don't see why you had to -pick him up, anyway. There's plenty of Christians in college."</p> - -<p>"He's a first-class fellow," Hugh replied stubbornly, "and I like him. I -don't see why we have to be so high-hat about Jews and Catholics. Most -of the fraternities take in Catholics, and the Phi Thetas take in Jews; -at least, they've got two. They bid Einstein, but he turned them down; -his folks don't want him to join a fraternity. And Chubby Elson told me -that the Theta Kappas wanted him awfully, but they have a local rule -against Jews."</p> - -<p>"That doesn't make any difference," Tucker said sharply. "We don't want -him around here. Because some of the fraternities are so damn -broad-minded isn't any reason that we ought to be. I don't see that -their broad-mindedness is getting them anything. We rate about ten times -as much as the Phi Thetas or the Theta Kappas, and the reason we do is -that we are so much more exclusive."</p> - -<p>Hugh wanted to mention the three Nu Delta thugs, but he wisely -restrained himself. "All right," he said stubbornly, "I won't bring -Einstein around here again, and I won't bring Parker either. But I'll -see just as much of them as I want to. My friends are my friends, and -if the fraternity doesn't like them, it can leave them alone. I pledged -loyalty to the fraternity, but I'll be damned if I pledged my life to -it." He got up and started for the door, his blue eyes dark with anger. -"I hate snobs," he said viciously, and departed.</p> - -<p>After rushing season was over, he rarely entered that fraternity house, -chumming mostly with Carl, but finding friends in other fraternities or -among non-fraternity men. He was depressed and gloomy, although his -grades for the first term had been respectable. Nothing seemed very much -worth while, not even making his letter on the track. He was gradually -taking to cigarettes, and he had even had a nip or two out of a flask -that Carl had brought to the room. He had read the "Rubaiyat," and it -made a great impression on him. He and Carl often discussed the poem, -and more and more Hugh was beginning to believe in Omar's philosophy. At -least, he couldn't answer the arguments presented in Fitzgerald's -beautiful quatrains. The poem both depressed and thrilled him. After -reading it, he felt desperate—and ready for anything, convinced that -the only wise course was to take the cash and let the credit go. He was -much too young to hear the rumble of the distant drum. Sometimes he was -sure that there wasn't a drum, anyway.</p> - -<p>He was particularly blue one afternoon when Carl rushed into the room -and urged him to go to Hastings, a town five miles from Haydensville.</p> - -<p>"Jim Pearson's outside with his car," Carl said excitedly, "and he'll -take us down. He's got to come right back—he's only going for some -booze—but we needn't come back if we don't want to. We'll have a drink -and give Hastings the once-over. How's to come along?"</p> - -<p>"All right," Hugh agreed indifferently and began to pull on his baa-baa -coat. "I'm with you. A shot of gin might jazz me up a little."</p> - -<p>Once in Hastings, Pearson drove to a private residence at the edge of -the town. The boys got out of the car and filed around to the back door, -which was opened to their knock by a young man with a hatchet face and -hard blue eyes.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Mr. Pearson," he said with an effort to be pleasant. "Want some -gin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and some Scotch, too, Pete—if you have it. I'll take two quarts -of Scotch and one of gin."</p> - -<p>"All right." Pete led the way down into the cellar, switching on an -electric light when he reached the foot of the stairs. There was a small -bar in the rear of the dingy, underground room, a table or two, and -dozens of small boxes stacked against the wall.</p> - -<p>It was Hugh's first visit to a bootlegger's den, and he was keenly -interested. He had a high-ball along with Carl and Pearson; then took -another when Carl offered to stand treat. Pearson bought his three -quarts of liquor, paid Pete, and departed alone, Carl and Hugh having -decided to have another drink or two before they returned to -Haydensville. After a second high-ball Hugh did not care how many he -drank and was rather peevish when Carl insisted that he stop with a -third. Pete charged them eight dollars for their drinks, which they -cheerfully paid, and then warily climbed the stairs and stumbled out -into the cold winter air.</p> - -<p>"Brr," said Carl, buttoning his coat up to his chin; "it's cold as -hell."</p> - -<p>"So 'tis," Hugh agreed; "so 'tis. So 'tis. That's pretty. So 'tis, so -'tis, so 'tis. Isn't that pretty, Carl?"</p> - -<p>"Awful pretty. Say it again."</p> - -<p>"So 'tis. So 'tish. So—so—so. What wush it, Carl?"</p> - -<p>"So 'tis."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. So 'tish."</p> - -<p>They walked slowly, arm in arm, toward the business section of Hastings, -pausing now and then to laugh joyously over something that appealed to -them as inordinately funny. Once it was a tree, another time a farmer in -a sleigh, and a third time a Ford. Hugh insisted, after laughing until -he wept, that the Ford was the "funniest goddamned thing" he'd ever -seen. Carl agreed with him.</p> - -<p>They were both pretty thoroughly drunk by the time they reached the -center of the town, where they intended getting the bus back to -Haydensville. Two girls passed them and smiled invitingly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, what peaches," Carl exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Jush—jush—Jush swell," Hugh said with great positiveness, hanging on -to Carl's arm. "They're the shwellest Janes I've ever sheen."</p> - -<p>The girls, who were a few feet ahead, turned and smiled again.</p> - -<p>"Let's pick them up," Carl whispered loudly.</p> - -<p>"Shure," and Hugh started unsteadily to increase his pace.</p> - -<p>The girls were professional prostitutes who visited Hastings twice a -year "to get the Sanford trade." They were crude specimens, revealing -their profession to the most casual observer. If Hugh had been sober -they would have sickened him, but he wasn't sober; he was joyously drunk -and the girls looked very desirable.</p> - -<p>"Hello, girls," Carl said expansively, taking hold of one girl's arm. -"Busy?"</p> - -<p>"Bish-bishy?" Hugh repeated valiantly.</p> - -<p>The older "girl" smiled, revealing five gold teeth.</p> - -<p>"Of course not," she replied in a hard, flat voice. "Not too busy for -you boys, anyway. Come along with us and we'll make this a big -afternoon."</p> - -<p>"Sure," Carl agreed.</p> - -<p>"Sh-shure," Hugh stuttered. He reached forward to take the arm of the -girl who had spoken, but at the same instant some one caught him by the -wrist and held him still.</p> - -<p>Harry Slade, the star football player and this year's captain, happened -to be in Hastings; he was, in fact, seeking these very girls. He had -intended to pass on when he saw two men with them, but as soon as he -recognized Hugh he paused and then impulsively strode forward.</p> - -<p>"Here, Carver," he said sharply. "What are you doing?"</p> - -<p>"None—none of you da-damn business," Hugh replied angrily, trying to -shake his wrist free. "Leggo of me or—or I'll—I'll—"</p> - -<p>"You won't do anything," 'Slade interrupted. "You're going home with -me."</p> - -<p>"Who in hell are you?" one of the girls asked viciously. "Mind your own -damn business."</p> - -<p>"You mind yours, sister, or you'll get into a peck of trouble. This -kid's going with me—and don't forget that. Come on, Carver."</p> - -<p>Hugh was still vainly trying to twist his wrist free and was muttering, -"Leggo, leggo o' me."</p> - -<p>Slade jerked him across the sidewalk. Carl followed expostulating. "Get -the hell out of here, Peters," Slade said angrily, "or I'll knock your -fool block off. You chase off with those rats if you want to, but you -leave Carver with me if you know what's good for you." He shoved Carl -away, and Carl was sober enough to know that Slade meant what he said. -Each girl took him by an arm, and he walked off down the street between -them, almost instantly forgetting Hugh.</p> - -<p>Fortunately the street was nearly deserted, and no one had witnessed the -little drama. Hugh began to sob drunkenly. Slade grasped his shoulders -and shook him until his head waggled. "Now, shut up!" Slade commanded -sharply. He took Hugh by the arm and started down the street with him, -Hugh still muttering, "Leggo, leggo o' me."</p> - -<p>Slade walked him the whole five miles back to Haydensville, and before -they were half way home Hugh's head began to clear. For a time he felt a -little sick, but the nausea passed, and when they reached the campus he -was quite sober. Not a word was spoken until Hugh unlocked the door of -Surrey 19. Then Slade said: "Go wash your face and head in cold water. -Souse yourself good and then come back; I want to have a talk with you."</p> - -<p>Hugh obeyed orders, but with poor grace. He was angry and confused, -angry because his liberty had been interfered with, and confused because -Slade had never paid more than passing attention to him—and for a year -and a half Slade had been his god.</p> - -<p>Slade was one of those superb natural athletes who make history for many -colleges. He was big, powerfully built, and moved as easily as a -dancer. His features were good enough, but his brown eyes were dull and -his jaw heavy rather than strong. Hugh had often heard that Slade -dissipated violently, but he did not believe the rumors; he was positive -that Slade could not be the athlete he was if he dissipated. He had been -thrilled every time Slade had spoken to him—the big man of the college, -the one Sanford man who had ever made All American, as Slade had this -year.</p> - -<p>When he returned to his room from the bath-room, Slade was sitting in a -big chair smoking a cigarette. Hugh walked into his bedroom, combed his -dripping hair, and then came into the study, still angry but feeling a -little sheepish and very curious.</p> - -<p>"Well, what is it?" he demanded, sitting down.</p> - -<p>"Do you know who those women were?"</p> - -<p>"No. Who are they?"</p> - -<p>"They're Bessie Haines and Emma Gleeson; at least, that's what they call -themselves, and they're rotten bags."</p> - -<p>Hugh had a little quiver of fright, but he felt that he ought to defend -himself.</p> - -<p>"Well, what of it?" he asked sullenly. "I don't see as you had any right -to pull me away. You never paid any attention before to me. Why this -sudden interest? How come you're so anxious to guard my purity?"</p> - -<p>Slade was embarrassed. He threw his cigarette into the fireplace and -immediately lighted another one. Then he looked at his shoes and -muttered, "I'm a pretty bad egg myself."</p> - -<p>"So I've heard." Hugh was frankly sarcastic.</p> - -<p>"Well, I am." Slade looked up defiantly. "I guess it's up to me to -explain—and I don't know how to do it. I'm a dumbbell. I can't talk -decently. I flunked English One three times, you know." He hesitated a -moment and then blurted out, "I was looking for those bags myself."</p> - -<p>"What?" Hugh leaned forward and stared at him, bewildered and -dumfounded. " <i>You</i> were looking for them?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah.... You see, I'm a bad egg—always been a bad one with women, ever -since I was a kid. Gotta have one about every so often.... I—I'm not -much."</p> - -<p>"But what made you stop me?" Hugh pressed his hand to his temple. His -head was aching, and he could make nothing out of Slade's talk.</p> - -<p>"Because—because.... Oh, hell, Carver, I don't know how to explain it. -I'm twenty-four and you're about nineteen and I know a lot that you -don't. I was brought up in South Boston and I ran with a gang. There -wasn't anything rotten that we didn't do.... I've been watching you. -You're different."</p> - -<p>"How different?" Hugh demanded. "I want women just as much as you do."</p> - -<p>"That isn't it." Slade ran his fingers through his thick black hair and -scowled fiercely at the fireplace. "That isn't it at all. You're—you're -awfully clean and decent. I've been watching you lots—oh, for a year. -You're—you're different," he finished lamely.</p> - -<p>Hugh was beginning to understand. "Do you mean," he asked slowly, "that -you want me to keep straight—that—that, well—that you like me that -way better?" He was really asking Slade if he admired him, and Slade got -his meaning perfectly. To Hugh the idea was preposterous. Why, Slade had -made every society on the campus; he had been given every honor that the -students could heap on him—and he envied Hugh, an almost unknown -sophomore. Why, it was ridiculous.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's what I mean; that's what I was trying to get at." For a -minute Slade hesitated; he wasn't used to giving expression to his -confused emotions, and he didn't know how to go about it. "I'd—I'd like -to be like you; that's it. I—I didn't want you to be like me.... Those -women are awful bags. Anything might happen."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you stop Carl Peters, too, then?"</p> - -<p>"Peters knows his way about. He can take care of himself. You're -different, though.... You've never been drunk before, have you?"</p> - -<p>"No. No, I never have." Hugh's irritation was all gone. He was touched, -deeply touched, by Slade's clumsy admiration, and he felt weak, -emotionally exhausted after his little spree. "It's awfully good of you -to—to think of me that way. I'm—I'm glad you stopped me."</p> - -<p>Slade stood up. He felt that he had better be going. He couldn't tell -Hugh how much he liked and admired him, how much he envied him. He was -altogether sentimental about the boy, entirely devoted to him. He had -wanted to talk to Hugh more than Hugh had wanted to talk to him, but he -had never felt that he had anything to offer that could possibly -interest Hugh. It was a strange situation; the hero had put the hero -worshiper on a high, white marble pedestal.</p> - -<p>He moved toward the door. "So long," he said as casually as he could.</p> - -<p>Hugh jumped up and rushed to him. "I'm awfully grateful to you, Harry," -he said impulsively. "It was damn white of you. I—I don't know how to -thank you." He held out his hand.</p> - -<p>Slade gripped it for a moment, and then, muttering another "So long," -passed out of the door.</p> - -<p>Hugh was more confused than ever and grew steadily more confused as the -days passed. He couldn't understand why Slade, frankly unchaste himself, -should consider his chastity so important. He was genuinely glad that -Slade had rescued him, genuinely grateful, but his confusion about all -things sexual was more confounded. The strangest thing was that when he -told Carl about Slade's talk, Carl seemed to understand perfectly, -though he never offered a satisfactory explanation.</p> - -<p>"I know how he feels," Carl said, "and I'm awfully glad he butted in and -pulled you away. I'd hate to see you messing around with bags like that -myself, and if I hadn't been drunk I wouldn't have let you. I'm more -grateful to him than you are. Gee! I'd never have forgiven myself," he -concluded fervently.</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>Just when the Incident was beginning to occupy less of Hugh's thoughts, -it was suddenly brought back with a crash. He came home from the -gymnasium one afternoon to find Carl seated at his desk writing. He -looked up when Hugh came in, tore the paper into fragments, and tossed -them info the waste-basket.</p> - -<p>"Guess I'd better tell you," he said briefly. "I was just writing a note -to you."</p> - -<p>"To me? Why?"</p> - -<p>Carl pointed to his suit-case standing by the center-table.</p> - -<p>"That's why."</p> - -<p>"Going away on a party?"</p> - -<p>"My trunk left an hour ago. I'm going away for good." Carl's voice was -husky, and he spoke with an obvious effort.</p> - -<p>Hugh walked quickly to the desk. "Why, old man, what's the matter? -Anything wrong with your mother? You're not sick, are you?"</p> - -<p>Carl laughed, briefly, bitterly. "Yes, I'm sick all right. I'm sick."</p> - -<p>Hugh, worried, looked at him seriously. "Why, what's the matter? I -didn't know that you weren't feeling well."</p> - -<p>Carl looked at the rug and muttered, "You remember those rats we picked -up in Hastings?"</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I know of seven fellows they've sent home."</p> - -<p>"What!" Hugh cried, his eyes wide with horror. "You don't mean that -you—that you—"</p> - -<p>"I mean exactly that," Carl replied in a low, flat voice. He rose and -moved to the other side of the room. "I mean exactly that; and Doc -Conners agrees with me," he added sarcastically. Then more softly, "He's -got to tell the dean. That's why I'm going home."</p> - -<p>Hugh was swept simultaneously by revulsion and sympathy. "God, I'm -sorry," he exclaimed. "Oh, Carl, I'm so damn sorry."</p> - -<p>Carl was standing by Hugh's desk, his hands clenched, his lips -compressed. "Keep my junk," he said unevenly, "and sell anything you -want to if you live in the house next year."</p> - -<p>"But you'll be back?"</p> - -<p>"No, I won't come back—I won't come back." He was having a hard time -to keep back the tears and bit his trembling lip mercilessly. "Oh, -Hugh," he suddenly cried, "what will my mother say?"</p> - -<p>Hugh was deeply distressed, but he was startled by that "my mother." It -was the first time he had ever heard Carl speak of his mother except as -the "old lady."</p> - -<p>"She will understand," he said soothingly.</p> - -<p>"How can she? How can she? God, Hugh, God!" He buried his face in his -hands and wept bitterly. Hugh put his arm around his shoulder and tried -to comfort him, and in a few minutes Carl was in control of himself -again. He dried his eyes with his handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"What a fish I am!" he said, trying to grin. "A goddamn fish." He looked -at his watch. "Hell, I've got to be going if I'm going to make the five -fifteen," He picked up his suit-case and held out his free hand. -"There's something I want to say to you, Hugh, but I guess I'll write -it. Please don't come to the train with me." He gripped Hugh's hand hard -for an instant and then was out of the door and down the hall before -Hugh had time to say anything.</p> - -<p>Two days afterward the letter came. The customary "Dear brother" and -"Fraternally yours" were omitted.</p> - -<p class="blkquot"> - Dear Hugh:<br /> - I've thought of letters yards long but I'm not going to - write them. I just want to say that you are the finest - thing that ever happened to me outside of my mother, and - I respect you more than any fellow I've ever known. I'm - ashamed because I started you drinking and I hope you'll - stop it. I feel toward you the way Harry Slade does, - only more I guess. You've done an awful lot for me.<br /> - I want to ask a favor of you. Please leave women alone. - Keep straight, please. You don't know how much I want - you to do that.<br /> - Thanks for all you've done for me.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>CARL.</span></p> - -<p>Hugh's eyes filled with tears when he read that letter. Carl seemed a -tragic figure to him, and he missed him dreadfully. Poor old Carl! What -hell it must have been to tell his mother! "And he wants me to keep -straight. By God, I will.... I'll try to, anyhow."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh's depression was not continuous by any means. He was much too young -and too healthy not to find life an enjoyable experience most of the -time. Disillusionment followed disillusionment, each one painful and -dispiriting in itself, but they came at long enough intervals for him to -find a great deal of pleasure in between.</p> - -<p>Also, for the first time since he had been transferred from Alling's -section in Latin, he was taking genuine interest in a course. Having -decided to major in English, he found that he was required to take a -composition course the second half of his sophomore year. His instructor -was Professor Henley, known as Jimmie Henley among the students, a man -in his middle thirties, spare, neat in his dress, sharp with his tongue, -apt to say what he thought in terms so plain that not even the stupidest -undergraduate could fail to understand him. His hazel-brown eyes were -capable of a friendly twinkle, but they had a way of darkening suddenly -and snapping that kept his students constantly on the alert. There was -little of the professor about him but a great deal of the teacher.</p> - -<p>Hugh went to his first conference with him not entirely easy in his -mind. Henley had a reputation for "tearing themes to pieces and making a -fellow feel like a poor fish." Hugh had written his themes hastily, as -he had during his freshman year, and he was afraid that Henley might -discover evidences of that haste.</p> - -<p>Henley was leaning back in his swivel chair, his feet on the desk, a -brier pipe in his mouth, as Hugh entered the cubbyhole of an office. -Down came the feet with a bang.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Carver," Henley said cheerfully. "Come in and sit down while I -go through your themes." He motioned to a chair by the desk. Hugh -muttered a shy "hello" and sat down, watching Henley expectantly and -rather uncomfortably.</p> - -<p>Henley picked up three themes. Then he turned his keen eyes on Hugh. -"I've already read these. Lazy cuss, aren't you?" he asked amiably.</p> - -<p>Hugh flushed. "I—I suppose so."</p> - -<p>"You know that you are; no supposing to it." He slapped the desk lightly -with the themes. "First drafts, aren't they?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir." Hugh felt his cheeks getting warmer.</p> - -<p>Henley smiled. "Thanks for not lying. If you had lied, this conference -would have ended right now. Oh, I wouldn't have told you that I thought -you were lying; I would simply have made a few polite but entirely -insincere comments about your work and let you go. Now I am going to -talk to you frankly and honestly."</p> - -<p>"I wish you would," Hugh murmured, but he wasn't at all sure that he -wished anything of the sort.</p> - -<p>Henley knocked the ashes out of his pipe into a metal tray, refilled it, -lighted it, and then puffed meditatively, gazing at Hugh with kind but -speculative eyes.</p> - -<p>"I think you have ability," he began slowly. "You evidently write with -great fluency and considerable accuracy, and I can find poetic touches -here and there that please me. But you are careless, abominably -careless, lazy. Whatever virtues there are in your themes come from a -natural gift, not from any effort you made to say the thing in the best -way. Now, I'm not going to spend anytime discussing these themes in -detail; they aren't worth it."</p> - -<p>He pointed his pipe at Hugh. "The point is exactly this," he said -sternly. "I'll never spend any time discussing your themes so long as -you turn in hasty, shoddy work. I can see right now that you can get a C -in this course without trying. If that's all you want, all right, I'll -give it to you—and let it go at that. The Lord knows that I have enough -to do without wasting time on lazy youngsters who haven't sense enough -to develop their gifts. If you continue to turn in themes like these, -I'll give you C's or D's on them and let you dig your own shallow grave -by yourself. But If you want to try to write as well as you can, I'll -give you all the help in my power. Not one minute can you have so long -as you don't try, but you can have hours if you do try. Furthermore, you -will find writing a pleasure if you write as well as you can, but you -won't get any sport just scribbling off themes because you have to."</p> - -<p>He paused to toss the three themes across the desk to Hugh, who was -watching him with astonishment. No instructor had ever talked to him -that way before.</p> - -<p>"You can rewrite these themes if you want to," Henley went on. "I -haven't graded them, and I'll reserve the grades for the rewritten -themes; and if I find that you have made a real effort, I'll discuss -them in detail with you. What do you say?"</p> - -<p>"I'd like to rewrite them," Hugh said softly. "I know they are rotten."</p> - -<p>"No, they aren't rotten. I've got dozens that are worse. That isn't the -point. They aren't nearly so good as you can make them, and only your -best work is acceptable to me. Now show me what you can do with them, -and then we'll tear them to shreds in regular fashion." He turned to his -desk and smiled at Hugh, who, understanding that the conference was -over, stood up and reached for the themes. "I'll be interested in -seeing what you can do with those," Henley concluded. "Every one of them -has a good idea. Go to it—and get them back in a week."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. Thanks very much."</p> - -<p>"Right-o. Good-by."</p> - -<p>"Good-by, sir," and Hugh left the office determined to rewrite those -themes so that "they'd knock Jimmie Henley's eye out." They didn't do -exactly that, but they did interest him, and he spent an hour and a half -discussing them with Hugh.</p> - -<p>That was merely the first of a series of long conferences. Sometimes -Henley and Hugh discussed writing, but often they talked about other -subjects, not as instructor and student but as two men who respected -each other's mind. Before the term was out Henley had invited Hugh to -his home for dinner and to meet Mrs. Henley. Hugh was enormously -flattered and, for some reason, stimulated to do better work. He found -his talks with Henley really exciting, and he expressed his opinions to -him as freely and almost as positively as he did to his classmates. He -told his friends that Jimmie Henley was human, not like most profs. And -he worked at his writing as he had never worked at anything, running -excepted, since he had been in college.</p> - -<p>The students never knew what to expect from Henley in the class-room. -Sometimes he read themes and criticized them; sometimes he discussed -books that he had been reading; sometimes he read poetry, not because -contemporary poetry was part of the course but because he happened to -feel like reading it that morning; sometimes he discoursed on the art of -writing; and sometimes he talked about anything that happened to be -occupying his mind. He made his class-room an open forum, and the -students felt free to interrupt him at any time and to disagree with -him. Usually they did disagree with him and afterward wrote violent -themes to prove that he was wrong. That was exactly what Henley wanted -them to do, and the more he could stir them up the better satisfied he -was.</p> - -<p>One morning, however, he talked without interruption. He didn't want to -be interrupted, and the boys were so taken back by his statements that -they could find no words to say anything.</p> - -<p>The bell rang. Henley called the roll, stuck his class-book into his -coat pocket, placed his watch on the desk; then leaned back and looked -the class over.</p> - -<p>"Your themes are making me sick," he began, "nauseated. I have a fairly -strong stomach, but there is just so much that I can stand—and you have -passed the limit. There is hardly a man in this class who hasn't written -at least one theme on the glory that is Sanford. As you know, I am a -Sanford man myself, and I have my share of affection for the college, -but you have reached an ecstasy of chauvinism that makes Chauvin's -affection for Napoleon seem almost like contempt.</p> - -<p>"In the last batch of themes I got five telling me of the perfection of -Sanford: Sanford is the greatest college in the country; Sanford has the -best athletes, the finest equipment, the most erudite faculty, the most -perfect location, the most loyal alumni, the strongest spirit—the most -superlative everything. Nonsense! Rot! Bunk! Sanford hasn't anything of -the sort, and I who love it say so. Sanford is a good little college, -but it isn't a Harvard, a Yale, or a Princeton, or, for that matter, a -Dartmouth or Brown; and those colleges still have perfection ahead of -them. Sanford has made a place for itself in the sun, but it will never -find a bigger place so long as its sons do nothing but chant its praises -and condemn any one as disloyal who happens to mention its very numerous -faults.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm going to mention some of those faults, not all of them by any -means, just those that any intelligent undergraduate ought to be able to -see for himself.</p> - -<p>"In the first place, this is supposed to be an educational institution; -it is endowed for that purpose and it advertises itself as such. And you -men say that you come here to get an education. But what do you really -do? You resist education with all your might and main, digging your -heels into the gravel of your own ignorance and fighting any attempt to -teach you anything every inch of the way. What's worse, you aren't -content with your own ignorance; you insist that every one else be -ignorant, too. Suppose a man attempts to acquire culture, as some of -them do. What happens? He is branded as wet. He is a social leper.</p> - -<p>"Wet! What currency that bit of slang has—and what awful power. It took -me a long time to find out what the word meant, but after long research -I think that I know. A man is wet if he isn't a 'regular guy'; he is wet -if he isn't 'smooth'; he is wet if he has intellectual interests and -lets the mob discover them; and, strangely enough, he is wet by the same -token if he is utterly stupid. He is wet if he doesn't show at least a -tendency to dissipate, but he isn't wet if he dissipates to excess. A -man will be branded as wet for any of these reasons, and once he is so -branded, he might as well leave college; if he doesn't, he will have a -lonely and hard row to hoe. It is a rare undergraduate who can stand the -open contempt of his fellows."</p> - -<p>He paused, obviously ordering his thoughts before continuing. The boys -waited expectantly. Some of them were angry, some amused, a few in -agreement, and all of them intensely interested.</p> - -<p>Henley leaned back in his chair. "What horrible little conformers you -are," he began sarcastically, "and how you loathe any one who doesn't -conform! You dress both your bodies and your minds to some set model. -Just at present you are making your hair foul with some sort of perfumed -axle-grease; nine tenths of you part it in the middle. It makes no -difference whether the style is becoming to you or not; you slick it -down and part it in the middle. Last year nobody did it; the chances are -that next year nobody will do it, but anybody who doesn't do it right -now is in danger of being called wet."</p> - -<p>Hugh had a moment of satisfaction. He did not pomade his hair, and he -parted it on the side as he had when he came to college. True, he had -tried the new fashion, but after scanning himself carefully in the -mirror, he decided that he looked like a "blond wop"—and washed his -hair. He was guilty, however, of the next crime mentioned.</p> - -<p>"The same thing is true of clothes," Henley was saying. "Last year every -one wore four-button suits and very severe trousers. This year every one -is wearing Norfolk jackets and bell-bottomed trousers, absurd things -that flop around the shoes, and some of them all but trail on the -ground. Now, any one who can't afford the latest creation or who -declines to wear it is promptly called wet.</p> - -<p>"And, as I said before, you insist on the same standardization of your -minds. Just now it is not <i>au fait</i> to like poetry; a man who does is -exceedingly wet, indeed; he is effeminate, a sissy. As a matter of -fact, most of you like poetry very much. You never give me such good -attention as when I read poetry. What's more, some of you are writing -the disgraceful stuff. But what happens when a man does submit a poem as -a theme? He writes at the bottom of the page, 'Please do not read this -in class.' Some of you write that because you don't think that the poem -is very good, but most of you are afraid of the contempt of your -classmates. I know of any number of men in this college who read vast -quantities of poetry, but always on the sly. Just think of that! Men pay -thousands of dollars and give four years of their lives supposedly to -acquire culture and then have to sneak off into a corner to read poetry.</p> - -<p>"Who are your college gods? The brilliant men who are thinking and -learning, the men with ideals and aspirations? Not by a long shot. They -are the athletes. Some of the athletes happen to be as intelligent and -as eager to learn as anybody else, but a fair number are here simply -because they are paid to come to play football or baseball or what not. -And they are worshiped, bowed down to, cheered, and adored. The -brilliant men, unless they happen to be very 'smooth' in the bargain, -are considered wet and are ostracized.</p> - -<p>"Such is the college that you write themes about to tell me that it is -perfect. The college is made up of men who worship mediocrity; that is -their ideal except in athletics. The condition of the football field is -a thousand times more important to the undergraduates and the alumni -than the number of books in the library or the quality of the faculty. -The fraternities will fight each other to pledge an athlete, but I have -yet to see them raise any dust over a man who was merely intelligent.</p> - -<p>"I tell you that you have false standards, false ideals, and that you -have a false loyalty to the college. The college can stand criticism; it -will thrive and grow on it—but it won't grow on blind adoration. I tell -you further that you are as standardized as Fords and about as -ornamental. Fords are useful for ordinary work; so are you—and unless -some of you wake up and, as you would say, 'get hep to yourselves,' you -are never going to be anything more than human Fords.</p> - -<p>"You pride yourselves on being the cream of the earth, the noblest work -of God. You are told so constantly. You are the intellectual aristocracy -of America, the men who are going to lead the masses to a brighter and -broader vision of life. Merciful heavens preserve us! You swagger around -utterly contemptuous of the man who hasn't gone to college. You talk -magnificently about democracy, but you scorn the non-college man—and -you try pathetically to imitate Yale and Princeton. And I suppose Yale -and Princeton are trying to imitate Fifth Avenue and Newport. Democracy! -Rot! This college isn't democratic. Certain fraternities condescend to -other fraternities, and those fraternities barely deign even to -condescend to the non-fraternity men. You say hello to everybody on the -campus and think that you are democratic. Don't fool yourselves, and -don't try to fool me. If you want to write some themes about Sanford -that have some sense and truth in them, some honest observation, go -ahead; but don't pass in any more chauvinistic bunk. I'm sick of it."</p> - -<p>He put his watch in his pocket and stood up. "You may belong to the -intellectual aristocracy of the country, but I doubt it; you may lead -the masses to a 'bigger and better' life, but I doubt it; you may be the -cream of the earth, but I doubt it. All I've got to say is this: if -you're the cream of the earth, God help the skimmed milk." He stepped -down from the rostrum and briskly left the room.</p> - -<p>For an instant the boys sat silent, and then suddenly there was a rustle -of excitement. Some of them laughed, some of them swore softly, and most -of them began to talk. They pulled on their baa-baa coats and left the -room chattering.</p> - -<p>"He certainly has the dope," said Pudge Jamieson. "We're a lot of -low-brows pretending to be intellectual high-hats. We're intellectual -hypocrites; that's what we are."</p> - -<p>"How do you get that way?" Ferdy Hillman, who was walking with Hugh and -Pudge, demanded angrily. "We may not be so hot, but we're a damn sight -better than these guys that work in offices and mills. Jimmie Henley -gives me a pain. He shoots off his gab as if he knew everything. He's -got to show me where other colleges have anything on Sanford. He's a -hell of a Sanford man, he is."</p> - -<p>They were walking slowly down the stairs. George Winsor caught up with -them.</p> - -<p>"What did you think of it, George?" Hugh asked.</p> - -<p>Winsor grinned. "He gave me some awful body blows," he said, chuckling. -"Cripes, I felt most of the time that he was talking only to me. I'm -sore all over. What did you think of it? Jimmie's a live wire, all -right."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what to think," Hugh replied soberly. "He's knocked all -the props from under me. I've got to think it over."</p> - -<p>He did think it over, and the more he thought the more he was inclined -to believe that Henley was right. Boy-like, he carried Henley's -statements to their final conclusion and decided that the college was a -colossal failure. He wrote a theme and said so.</p> - -<p>"You're wrong, Hugh," Henley said when he read the theme. "Sanford has -real virtues, a bushel of them. You'll discover them all right before -you graduate."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Sanford's virtues were hard for Hugh to find, and they grew more -inconspicuous as the term advanced. For the time being nothing seemed -worth while: he was disgusted with himself, the undergraduates, and the -fraternity; he felt that the college had bilked him. Often he thought of -the talk he had had with his father before he left for college. -Sometimes that talk seemed funny, entirely idiotic, but sometimes it -infuriated him. What right had his father to send him off to college -with such fool ideas in his head? Nu Delta, the perfect brotherhood! -Bull! How did his father get that way, anyhow? Hugh had yet to learn -that nearly every chapter changes character at least once a decade and -that Nu Delta thirty years earlier had been an entirely different -organization from what it was at present. At times he felt that his -father had deliberately deceived him, but in quieter moments he knew -better; then he realized that his father was a dreamer and an innocent, -a delicately minded man who had never really known anything about -Sanford College or the world either. Hugh often felt older and wiser -than his father; and in many ways he was.</p> - -<p>In March he angered his fraternity brothers again by refusing a part in -the annual musical comedy, which was staged by the Dramatic Society -during Prom week. Hugh's tenor singing voice and rather small features -made him an excellent possibility for a woman's part. But he was not a -good actor, and he knew it. His attempts at acting in a high-school play -had resulted in a flat failure, and he had no intention of publicly -making a fool of himself again. Besides, he did not like the idea of -appearing on the stage as a girl; the mere idea was offensive to him. -Therefore, when the Society offered him a part he declined it.</p> - -<p>Bob Tucker took him severely to task. "What do you mean, Hugh," he -demanded, "by turning down the Dramat? Here you've got a chance for a -lead, and you turn up your nose at it as if you were God Almighty. It -seems to me that you are getting gosh-awful high-hat lately. You run -around with a bunch of thoroughly wet ones; you never come to fraternity -meetings if you can help it; you aren't half training down at the track; -and now you give the Dramat the air just as if an activity or two wasn't -anything in your young life."</p> - -<p>"The Dramat isn't anything to me," Hugh replied, trying to keep his -temper. Tucker's arrogance always made him angry. "I can't act worth a -damn. Never could. I tried once in a play at home and made a poor fish -of myself, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not going to -again."</p> - -<p>"Bunk!" Tucker ejaculated contemptuously. "Hooey! Anybody can act good -enough for the Dramat. I tell you right now that you're turning the -fraternity down; you're playing us dirt. What have you done in college? -Not a goddamn thing except make the Glee Club. I don't care about track. -I suppose you did your best last year, though I know damn well that you -aren't doing it this year. What would become of the fraternity if all of -us parked ourselves on our tails and gave the activities the air the way -you do? You're throwing us down, and we don't like it."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm not going out for the Dramat," Hugh mumbled sullenly; "you -can just bet on that. I'll admit that I haven't trained the way I ought -to, but I have made the Glee Club, and I have promised to join the Banjo -Club, and I am still on the track squad, and that's more than half the -fellows in this fraternity can say. Most of 'em don't do anything but go -on parties and raise hell generally. How come you're picking on me? Why -don't you ride some of them for a while? I don't see where they're so -hot."</p> - -<p>"Never mind the other fellows." Tucker's black eyes flashed angrily. He -was one of the "hell-raisers" himself, good looking; always beautifully -dressed, and proud of the fact that he was "rated the smoothest man on -the campus." His "smoothness" had made him prominent in activities—that -and his estimate of himself. He took it for granted that he would be -prominent, and the students accepted him at his own valuation; and -powerful Nu Delta had been behind him, always able to swing Votes when -votes were needed.</p> - -<p>"Never mind the other fellows," he repeated. "They're none of your -party. You've got talents, and you're not making use of them. You could -be as popular as the devil if you wanted to, but you go chasing around -with kikes and micks."</p> - -<p>Hugh was very angry and a little absurd in his youthful pomposity. "I -suppose you refer to Parker and Einstein—my one mick friend, although -he isn't Irish, and my, one Jewish friend. Well, I shall stick to them -and see just as much of them as I like. I've told you that before, and -you might as well get me straight right now: I'm going to run with -whoever I want. The fraternity cannot dictate to me about my friends. -You told me you didn't want Parker and Einstein around the house. I -don't bring them around. I don't see as how you've got a right to ask -anything more."</p> - -<p>"I don't suppose you realize that everything you do reflects on the -fraternity," Tucker retorted, slightly pompous himself.</p> - -<p>"I suppose it does, but I can't see that I have done anything that is -going to ruin the name of Nu Delta. I don't get potted regularly or -chase around with filthy bags or flunk my courses or crib my way -through; and I could mention some men in this house who do all those -things." Hugh was thoroughly angry and no longer in possession of his -best judgment. "If you don't like the way I act, you can have my pin any -time you say." He stood up, his blue eyes almost black with rage, his -cheeks flushed, his mouth a thin white line.</p> - -<p>Tucker realized that he had gone too far. "Oh, don't get sore, Hugh," he -said soothingly. "I didn't mean it the way you are taking it. Of course, -we don't want you to turn in your pin. We all like you. We just want you -to come around more and be one of the fellows, more of a regular guy. We -feel that you can bring a lot of honor to the fraternity if you want to, -and we've been kinda sore because you've been giving activities the -go-by."</p> - -<p>"How about my studies?" Hugh retorted. "I suppose you want me to give -them the air. Well, I did the first term, and I made a record that I was -ashamed of. I promised my folks that I'd do better; and I'm going to. I -give an hour or two a day to track and several hours a week to the Glee -Club, and now I'm going to have to give several more to the Banjo Club. -That's all I can give at present, and that's all I'm going to give. I -know perfectly well that some fellows can go out for a bunch of -activities and make Phi Bete, too; but they're sharks and I'm not. Don't -worry, either; I won't disgrace the fraternity by making Phi Bete," he -concluded sarcastically.</p> - -<p>"Oh, calm down, Hugh, and forget what I said," Tucker pleaded, -thoroughly sorry that he had started the argument. "You go ahead and do -what you think right and we'll stand by you." He stood up and put his -hand on Hugh's shoulder. "No hard feelings, are there, old man?"</p> - -<p>Kindness always melted Hugh; no matter how angry he was, he could not -resist it. "No," he said softly; "no hard feelings. I'm sorry I lost my -temper."</p> - -<p>Tucker patted his shoulder. "Oh, that's all right. I guess I kinda lost -mine, too. You'll be around to the meeting to-morrow night, won't you? -Better come. Paying fines don't get you anywhere."</p> - -<p>"Sure, I'll come."</p> - -<p>He went but took no part in the discussion, nor did he frequent the -fraternity house any more than he had previously. More and more he -realized that he had "gone with the wrong crowd," and more and more he -thought of what Graham had said to him in his freshman year about how a -man was in hell if he joined the wrong fraternity. "I was the wise -bird," he told himself caustically; "I was the guy who knew all about -it. Graham saw what would happen, and I didn't have sense enough to -take his advice. Hell, I never even thought about what he told me. I -knew that I would be in heaven if Nu Delta gave me a bid. Heaven! Well, -I'm glad that they were too high-hat for Norry Parker and that he went -with the right bunch."</p> - -<p>Norville Parker was Hugh's Catholic friend, and the more he saw of the -freshman the better he liked him. Parker had received several bids from -fraternities, and he followed the advice Hugh had given him. "If Delta -Sigma Delta bids you, go there," Hugh had said positively. "They're the -bunch you belong with. Apparently the Kappa Zetes are going to bid you, -too. You go Delta Sig if you get the chance." Hugh envied Parker the -really beautiful fraternity life he was leading. "Why in God's name," he -demanded of himself regularly, "didn't I have sense enough to take -Graham's advice?"</p> - -<p>When spring came, the two boys took long walks into the country, both of -them loving the new beauty of the spring and happy in perfect -companionship. Hugh missed Carl badly, and he wanted to ask Parker to -room with him the remainder of the term. He felt, however, that the -fraternity would object, and he wanted no further trouble with Nu Delta. -As a matter of fact, the fraternity would have said nothing, but Hugh -had become hypersensitive and expected his "brothers" to find fault -with his every move. He had no intention of deserting Parker, but he -could not help feeling that rooming with him would be a gratuitous -insult to the fraternity.</p> - -<p>Parker—every one called him Norry—was a slender, delicate lad with -dreamy gray eyes and silky brown hair that, unless he brushed it back -severely, fell in soft curls on his extraordinarily white forehead. -Except for a slightly aquiline nose and a firm jaw, he was almost -effeminate in appearance, his mouth was so sensitive, his hands so white -and slender, his manner so gentle. He had a slow, winning smile, a -quiet, low voice. He was a dreamer and a mystic, a youth who could see -fairies dancing in the shadows; and he told Hugh what he saw.</p> - -<p>"I see things," he said to Hugh one moonlight night as they strolled -through the woods; "I see things, lovely little creatures flitting -around among the trees: I mean I see them when I'm alone. I like to lie -on my back in the meadows and look at the clouds and imagine myself -sitting on a big fellow and sailing and sailing away to heaven. It's -wonderful. I feel that way when I play my fiddle." He played the violin -beautifully and had promptly been made soloist for the Musical Clubs. -"I—I can't explain. Sometimes when I finish playing, I find my eyes -full of tears. I feel as if I had been to some wonderful place, and I -don't want to come back."</p> - -<p>"I guess I'm not like other fellows. I cry over poetry, not because it -makes me sad. It's not that. It's just so beautiful. Why, when I first -read Shelley's 'Cloud' I was almost sick I was so happy. I could hardly -stand it. And when I hear beautiful music I cry, too. Why, when I listen -to Kreisler, I sometimes want to beg him to stop; it hurts and makes me -so happy that—that I just can't stand it," he finished lamely.</p> - -<p>"I know," Hugh said. "I know how it is. I feel that way sometimes, too, -but not as much as you, I guess. I don't cry. I never really cry, but I -want to once in a while. I—I write poetry sometimes," he confessed -awkwardly, "but I guess it's not very good. Jimmie Henley says it isn't -so bad for a sophomore, but I'm afraid that he's just stringing me -along, trying to encourage me, you know. But there are times when I've -said a little bit right, just a little bit, but I've known that it was -right—and then I feel the way you do."</p> - -<p>"I've written lots of poetry," Norry said simply, "but it's no good; -it's never any good." He paused between two big trees and pointed -upward. "Look, look up there. See those black branches and that patch of -sky between them and those stars. I want to picture that—and I can't; -and I want to picture the trees the way they look now so fluffy with -tiny new leaves, but I miss it a million miles.... But I can get it in -music," he added more brightly. "Grieg says it. Music is the most -wonderful thing in the world. I wish I could be a great violinist. I -can't, though. I'm not a genius, and I'm not strong enough. I can't -practice very long."</p> - -<p>They continued walking in silence for a few minutes, and then Norry -said: "I'm awfully happy here at college, and I didn't expect to be, -either. I knew that I was kinda different from other fellows, not so -strong; and I don't like ugly things or smutty stories or anything like -that. I think women are lovely, and I hate to hear fellows tell dirty -stories about them. I'm no fool, Hugh; I know about the things that -happen, but I don't want to hear about them. Things that are dirty and -ugly make me feel sick."</p> - -<p>"Well, I was afraid the fellows would razz me. But they don't. They -don't at all. The fellows over at the Delta Sig house are wonderful to -me. They don't think I'm wet. They don't razz me for not going on wild -parties, though I know that some of the fellows are pretty gay -themselves. They ask me to fiddle for them nearly every evening, and -they sit and listen very, very quietly just as long as I'll play. I'm -glad you told me to go Delta Sig."</p> - -<p>Norry made Hugh feel very old and a little crude and hard. He realized -that there was something rare, almost exquisite, about the boy, and that -he lived largely in a beautiful world of his own imagination. It would -have surprised Norry if any one had told him that his fraternity -brothers stood in awe of him, that they thought he was a genius. Some of -them were built out of pretty common clay, but they felt the almost -unearthly purity of the boy they had made a brother; and the hardest of -them, the crudest, silently elected himself the guardian of that purity.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh found real happiness in Norry Parker's companionship, and such men -as Burbank and Winsor were giving him a more robust but no less pleasant -friendship. They were earnest youths, eager and alive, curious about the -world, reading, discussing all sorts of topics vigorously, and yet far -more of the earth earthy than Parker, who was so mystical and dreamy -that constant association with him would have been something of a -strain.</p> - -<p>For a time life seemed to settle down into a pleasant groove of studies -that took not too much time, movies, concerts, an occasional play by the -Dramatic Society, perhaps a slumming party to a dance in Hastings -Saturday nights, bull sessions, long talks with Henley in his office or -at his home, running on the track, and some reading.</p> - -<p>For a week or two life was lifted out of the groove by a professor's -daughter. Burbank introduced Hugh to her, and at first he was attracted -by her calm dignity. He called three times and then gave her up in -despair. Her dignity hid an utterly blank mind. She was as uninteresting -as her father, and he had the reputation, well deserved, of being the -dullest lecturer on the campus.</p> - -<p>Only one event disturbed the pleasant calm of Hugh's life after his -argument with Tucker. He did not attend Prom because he knew no girl -whom he cared to ask; he failed again to make his letter and took his -failure philosophically; and he received a note from Janet Harton -telling him that she was engaged to "the most wonderful man in the -world"—and he didn't give a hoot if she was.</p> - -<p>Just after Easter vacation the Nu Deltas gave their annual house dance. -Hugh looked forward to it with considerable pleasure. True, he was not -"dragging a woman," but several of the brothers were going "stag"; so he -felt completely at ease.</p> - -<p>The freshmen were put to work cleaning the house, the curtains were sent -to the laundry, bedroom closets and dresser drawers were emptied of -anything the girls might find too interesting, and an enormously -expensive orchestra was imported from New York. Finally a number of -young alumni, the four patronesses, and the girls appeared.</p> - -<p>Getting dressed for the dance was a real event in Hugh's life. He had -worn evening clothes only a few times before, but those occasions, -fraternity banquets and glee club concerts, were, he felt, relatively -unimportant. The dance, however, was different, and he felt that he must -look his best, his very "smoothest." He was a rare undergraduate; he -owned everything necessary to wear to an evening function—at least, -everything an undergraduate considered necessary. He did not own a -dress-suit, and he would have had no use for it if he had; only Tuxedos -were worn.</p> - -<p>He dressed with great care, tying and retying his tie until it was -knotted perfectly. When at last he drew on his jacket, he looked himself -over in the mirror with considerable satisfaction. He knew that he was -dressed right.</p> - -<p>It hardly entered his mind that he was an exceedingly good-looking young -man. Vanity was not one of his faults. But he had good reason to be -pleased with the image he was examining for any sartorial defects. He -had brushed his sandy brown hair until it shone; his shave had left his -slender cheeks almost as smooth as a girl's; his blue eyes were very -bright and clear; and the black suit emphasized his blond cleanness: it -was a wholesome-looking, attractive youth who finally pulled on his -top-coat and started happily across the campus for the Nu Delta house.</p> - -<p>The dance was just starting when he arrived. The patronesses were in the -library, a small room off the living-room. Hugh learned later that six -men had been delegated to keep the patronesses in the library and -adequately entertained. The men worked in shifts, and although the dance -lasted until three the next morning, not a patroness got a chance to -wander unchaperoned around the house.</p> - -<p>The living-room of the Nu Delta house was so large that it was -unnecessary to use the dining-room for a dance. Therefore, most of the -big chairs and divans had been moved into the dining-room—and the -dining-room was dark.</p> - -<p>Hugh permitted himself to be presented to the patronesses, mumbled a few -polite words, and then joined the stag line, waiting for a chance to cut -in. Presently a couple moved slowly by, so slowly that they did not seem -to move at all. The girl was Hester Sheville, and Hugh had been -introduced to her in the afternoon. Despite rather uneven features and -red hair, she was almost pretty; and in her green evening gown, which -was cut daringly low, she was flashing and attractive.</p> - -<p>Hugh stepped forward and tapped her partner on the shoulder. The brother -released her with a grimace at Hugh, and Hester, without a word, put her -right hand in Hugh's left and slipped her left arm around his neck. They -danced in silence for a time, bodies pressed close together, swaying in -place, hardly advancing. Presently, however, Hester drew her head back -and spoke.</p> - -<p>"Hot stuff, isn't it?" she asked lazily.</p> - -<p>Hugh was startled. Her breath was redolent of whisky.</p> - -<p>"Sure is," he replied and executed a difficult step, the girl following -him without the slightest difficulty. She danced remarkably, but he was -glad when he was tapped on the shoulder and another brother claimed -Hester. The whisky breath had repelled him.</p> - -<p>As the evening wore on he danced with a good many girls who had whisky -breaths. One girl clung to him as they danced and whispered, "Hold me -up, kid; I'm ginned." He had to rush a third, a dainty blond child, to -the porch railing. She wasn't a pretty sight as she vomited into the -garden; nor did Hugh find her gasped comment, "The seas are rough -to-night," amusing. Another girl went sound asleep in a chair and had to -be carried up-stairs and put to bed.</p> - -<p>A number of the brothers were hilarious; a few had drunk too much and -were sick; one had a "crying jag." There were men there, however, who -were not drinking at all, and they were making gallant efforts to keep -the sober girls away from the less sober girls and the inebriated -brothers.</p> - -<p>Hugh was not drinking. The idea of drinking at a dance was offensive to -him; he thought it insulting to the girls. The fact that some of the -girls were drinking horrified him. He didn't mind their smoking—well, -not very much; but drinking? That was going altogether too far.</p> - -<p>About midnight he danced again with Hester Sheville, not because he -wanted to but because she had insisted. He had been standing gloomily in -the doorway watching the bacchanalian scene, listening to the tom-tom -of the drums when she came up to him.</p> - -<p>"I wanta dance," she said huskily. "I wanta dance with you—you—you -blond beast." Seeing no way to decline to dance with the half-drunk -girl, he put his arm around her and started off. Hester's tongue was no -longer in control, but her feet followed his unerringly. When the music -stopped, she whispered, "Take me—ta-take me to th' th' dining-room." -Wonderingly, Hugh led her across the hall. He had not been in the -dining-room since the dance started, and he was amazed and shocked to -find half a dozen couples in the big chairs or on the divans in close -embrace. He paused, but Hester led him to an empty chair, shoved him -clumsily down into it, and then flopped down on his lap.</p> - -<p>"Le's—le's pet," she whispered. "I wanna pet."</p> - -<p>Again Hugh smelled the whisky fumes as she put her hot mouth to his and -kissed him hungrily. He was angry, angry and humiliated. He tried to get -up, to force the girl off of his lap, but she clung tenaciously to him, -striving insistently to kiss him on the mouth. Finally Hugh's anger got -the better of his manners; he stood up, the girl hanging to his neck, -literally tore her arms off of him, took her by the waist and set her -down firmly in the chair.</p> - -<p>"Sit there," he said softly, viciously; "sit there."</p> - -<p>She began to cry, and he walked rapidly out of the dining-room, his -cheeks flaming and his eyes flashing; and the embracing couples paid no -attention to him at all. He had to pass the door of the library to get -his top-coat—he made up his mind to get out of the "goddamned -house"—and was walking quickly by the door when one of the patronesses -called to him.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Carver. Will you come here a minute?"</p> - -<p>"Surely, Mrs. Reynolds." He entered the library and waited before the -dowager.</p> - -<p>"I left my wrap up-stairs—in Mr. Merrill's room, I think it is. I am -getting a little chilly. Won't you get it for me?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. It's in Merrill's room?"</p> - -<p>"I think it is. It's right at the head of the stairs. The wrap's blue -with white fur."</p> - -<p>Hugh ran up the stairs, opened Merrill's door, switched on the lights, -and immediately spotted the wrap lying over the back of a chair. He -picked it up and was about to leave the room when a noise behind him -attracted his attention. He turned and saw a man and a girl lying on the -bed watching him.</p> - -<p>Hugh stared blankly at them, his mouth half open.</p> - -<p>"Get th' hell out of here," the man said roughly.</p> - -<p>For an instant Hugh continued to stare; then he whirled about, walked -out of the room, slammed the door behind him, and hurried down the -stairs. He delivered the wrap to Mrs. Reynolds, and two minutes later he -was out of the house walking, almost running, across the campus to -Surrey Hall. Once there, he tore off his top-coat, his jacket, his -collar and tie, and threw himself down into a chair.</p> - -<p>So this was college! This was the fraternity—that goddamned rat house! -That was what he had pledged allegiance to, was it? Those were his -brothers, were they? Brothers! Brothers!</p> - -<p>He fairly leaped out of his chair and began to pace the floor. College! -Gentlemen! A lot of muckers chasing around with a bunch of rats; that's -what they were. Great thing—fraternities. No doubt about it, they were -a great institution.</p> - -<p>He paused in his mental tirade, suddenly conscious of the fact that he -wasn't fair. Some of the fraternities, he knew, would never stand for -any such performance as he had witnessed that evening; most of them, he -was sure, wouldn't. It was just the Nu Deltas and one or two others; -well, maybe three or four. So that's what he had joined, was it?</p> - -<p>He thought of Hester Sheville, of her whisky breath, her lascivious -pawing—and his hands clenched. "Filthy little rat," he said aloud, "the -stinkin', rotten rat."</p> - -<p>Then he remembered that there had been girls there who hadn't drunk -anything, girls who somehow managed to move through the whole orgy calm -and sweet. His anger mounted. It was a hell of a way to treat a decent -girl, to ask her to a dance with a lot of drunkards and soused rats.</p> - -<p>He was warm with anger. Reckless of the buttons, he tore off his -waistcoat and threw it on a chair. The jeweled fraternity pin by the -pocket caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment and then slowly -unpinned it. He let it lie in his hand and addressed it aloud, hardly -aware of the fact that he was speaking at all.</p> - -<p>"So that's what you stand for, is it? For snobs and politicians and -muckers. Well, I don't want any more of -you—not—one—damn—bit—more—of—you."</p> - -<p>He tossed the pin indifferently upon the center-table, making up his -mind that he would resign from the fraternity the next day.</p> - -<p>When the next day came he found, however, that his anger had somewhat -abated. He was still indignant, but he didn't have the courage to go -through with his resignation. Such an action, he knew, would mean a -great deal of publicity, publicity impossible to avoid. The fraternity -would announce its acceptance of his resignation in "The Sanford Daily -News"; and then he would either have to lie or start a scandal.</p> - -<p>As the days went by and he thought more and more about the dance, he -began to doubt his indignation. Wasn't he after all a prude to get so -hot? Wasn't he perhaps a prig, a sissy? At times he thought that he was; -at other times he was sure that he wasn't. He could be permanently sure -of only one thing, that he was a cynic.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XX'></a><h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh avoided the Nu Delta house for the remainder of the term and spent -more time on his studies than he had since he had entered college. The -result was, of course, that he made a good record, and the A that Henley -gave him in English delighted him so much that he almost forgot his -fraternity troubles. Not quite, however. During the first few weeks of -the vacation he often thought of talking to his father about Nu Delta, -but he could not find the courage to destroy his father's illusions. He -found, too, that he couldn't talk to his mother about things that he had -seen and learned at college. Like most of his friends, he felt that "the -folks wouldn't understand."</p> - -<p>He spent the first two months at home working on the farm, but when -Norry Parker invited him to visit him for a month on Long Island Sound, -Hugh accepted the invitation and departed for the Parker summer cottage -in high feather. He was eager to see Norry again, but he was even more -eager to see New York. He had just celebrated his twentieth birthday, -and he considered it disgraceful that he had never visited the "Big -City," as New York was always known at Sanford. Norry met him at Grand -Central, a livelier and more robust Norry than Hugh had ever seen. The -boy actually seemed like a boy and not a sprite; his cheeks were tanned -almost brown, and his gray eyes danced with excitement when he spotted -Hugh in the crowd.</p> - -<p>"Gee, Hugh, I'm glad to see you," he exclaimed, shaking Hugh's hand -joyously. "I'm tickled to death that you could come."</p> - -<p>"So am I," said Hugh heartily, really happy to see Norry looking so -well, and thrilled to be in New York. "Gosh, you look fine. I hardly -know you. Where'd you get all the pep?"</p> - -<p>"Swimming' and sailing. This is the first summer I've been well enough -to swim all I want to. Oh, it's pretty down where we are. You'll love -the nights, Hugh. The Sound is wonderful."</p> - -<p>"I'll bet. Well, where do we go from here? Say, this is certainly a -whale of a station, isn't it? It makes me feel like a hick."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you'll get over that soon enough," Norry, the seasoned New Yorker, -assured him easily. "We're going right out to the cottage. It's too hot -to-day to run around the city, but we'll come in soon and you can give -it the once-over." He took Hugh's arm and led him out of the station.</p> - -<p>It had never entered Hugh's mind that Norry's father might be rich. He -had noticed that Norry's clothes were very well tailored, and Norry had -told him that his violin was a Cremona, but the boy was not lavish with -money and never talked about it at all. Hugh was therefore surprised and -a little startled to see Norry walk up to an expensive limousine with a -uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. He wondered if the Parkers weren't too -high-hat for him?</p> - -<p>"We'll go right home, Martin," Norry said to the chauffeur. "Get in, -Hugh."</p> - -<p>The Parker cottage was a short distance from New Rochelle. It was a -beautiful place, hardly in the style of a Newport "cottage" but roomy -and very comfortable. It was not far from the water, and the Parkers -owned their own boat-house.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parker was on the veranda when the car drew up at the steps.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Mother," Norry called.</p> - -<p>She got up and ran lightly down the steps, her hand held out in welcome -to Hugh.</p> - -<p>"I know that you are Hugh Carver," she said in a beautifully modulated -voice, "and I am really delighted to meet you. Norry has talked so much -about you that I should have felt cheated if you hadn't come."</p> - -<p>Hugh's fears immediately departed. "I should have myself," he replied. -"It was awfully good of you to invite me."</p> - -<p>After meeting Norry's father and mother, Hugh understood the boy -better. Mrs. Parker was both charming and pretty, a delightful woman who -played the piano with professional skill. Mr. Parker was an artist, a -portrait-painter, and he got prices for his pictures that staggered Hugh -when Norry mentioned them casually. He was a quiet, grave man with gray -eyes like his son's.</p> - -<p>When he had a minute alone with Hugh, he said to him with simple -sincerity: "You have been very kind to Norry, and we are grateful. He is -a strange, poetic lad who needs the kind of understanding friendship you -have given him. We should have been deeply disappointed if you hadn't -been able to visit us."</p> - -<p>The expressions of gratitude embarrassed Hugh, but they made him feel -sure of his welcome; and once he was sure of that he began to enjoy -himself as he never had before. Before the month was out, he had made -many visits to New York and was able to talk about both the Ritz and -Macdougal Alley with elaborate casualness when he returned to college. -He and Norry went swimming nearly every day and spent hours sailing on -the Sound.</p> - -<p>Norry introduced him to the many girls who had summer homes near the -Parker cottage. They were a new type to him, boarding-school products, -sure of themselves, "finished" with a high polish that glittered -effectively, daringly frank both in their speech and their actions, -beautiful dancers, good swimmers, full of "dirt," as they called gossip, -and as offhand with men as they were with each other. Within a week Hugh -got over his prejudice against women's smoking. Nearly every woman he -met, including Mrs. Parker, smoked, and every girl carried her -cigarette-case.</p> - -<p>Most of the girls treated Norry as if he were a very nice small boy, but -they adopted a different attitude toward Hugh. They flirted with him, -perfected his "petting" technique, occasionally treated him to a drink, -and made no pretense of hiding his attraction for them.</p> - -<p>At first Hugh was startled and a little repelled, but he soon grew to -like the frankness, the petting, and the liquor; and he was having a -much too exciting time to pause often for criticism of himself or -anybody else. It was during the last week of his visit that he fell in -love.</p> - -<p>He and Norry were standing near the float watching a number of swimmers. -Suddenly Hugh was attracted by a girl he had never seen before. She wore -a red one-piece bathing-suit that revealed every curve of her slender, -boyish figure. She noticed Norry and threw up her arm in greeting.</p> - -<p>"Who is she?" Hugh demanded eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Cynthia Day. She's just back from visiting friends in Maine. She's an -awfully good swimmer. Watch her." The girl poised for an instant on the -edge of the float and then dived gracefully into the water, striking out -with a powerful overhand stroke for another float a quarter of a mile -out in the Sound. The boys watched her red cap as she rounded the float -and started back, swimming easily and expertly. When she reached the -beach, she ran out of the water, rubbed her hands over her face, and -then strolled over to Norry.</p> - -<p>Her hair was concealed by a red bathing-cap, but Hugh guessed that it -was brown; at any rate, her eyes were brown and very large. She had an -impudent little nose and full red lips.</p> - -<p>"'Lo, Norry," she said, holding out her hand. "How's the infant?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm fine. This is my friend Hugh Carver."</p> - -<p>"I've heard about you," she said as they shook hands. "I only got back -last night, but everybody seems to be digging dirt about Norry's friend. -Three of my friends are enemies on account of you, and one of 'em says -she's going in swimming some day and forget to come back if you don't -give her a little more time."</p> - -<p>Hugh blushed, but he had learned a few things in the past weeks.</p> - -<p>"I wish they would tell me about it," he said with a fair assumption of -ease. "Why didn't you come back sooner?" He was pleased with that -speech. He wouldn't have dared it a month before.</p> - -<p>The brown eyes smiled at him. "Because I didn't know you were here. You -haven't got a cigarette about you, have you? Norry's useless when it -comes to smokes."</p> - -<p>Hugh did have a package of cigarettes. She took one, put it in her -mouth, and waited for Hugh to light it for her. When he did, she gazed -curiously over the flame at him. She puffed the cigarette for a moment -and then said, "You look like a good egg. Let's talk." She threw herself -down on the sand, and the boys sat down beside her.</p> - -<p>From that moment Hugh was lost. For the remaining days of the visit he -spent every possible moment with Cynthia, fascinated by her chatter, -thrilled by the touch of her hand. She made no objection when he offered -shyly to kiss her; she quietly put her arms around his neck and turned -her face up to his—and her kisses set him aflame.</p> - -<p>For once, he did not want to return to college, and when he arrived in -Haydensville he felt none of his usual enthusiasm. The initiation of the -freshmen amused him only slightly, and the football games did not seem -so important as they had the two previous years. A letter from Cynthia -was the most important thing in the world, and she wrote good letters, -chatty, gay, and affectionate.</p> - -<p>Custom made it necessary for him to room in the fraternity house. It was -an unwritten law of Nu Delta that all members live in the house their -last two years, and Hugh hardly dared to contest the law. There were -four men in the chapter whom he thoroughly liked and with whom he would -have been glad to room, but they all had made their arrangements by the -time he spoke to them; so he was forced to accept Paul Vinton's -invitation to room with him.</p> - -<p>Vinton was a cheerful youth with too much money and not enough sense. He -wanted desperately to be thought a good fellow, a "regular guy," and he -was willing to buy popularity if necessary by standing treat to any one -every chance he got. He was known all over the campus as a "prize -sucker."</p> - -<p>He bored Hugh excessively by his confidences and almost offensive -generosity. He always had a supply of Scotch whisky on hand, and he -offered it to him so constantly that Hugh drank too much because it was -easier and pleasanter to drink than to refuse.</p> - -<p>Tucker had graduated, and the new president, Leonard Gates, was an -altogether different sort of man. There had been a fight in the -fraternity over his election. The "regular guys" opposed him and offered -one of their own number as a candidate. Gates, however, was prominent in -campus activities and had his own following in the house; as a result, -he was elected by a slight margin.</p> - -<p>He won Hugh's loyalty at the first fraternity meeting after he took the -chair. "Some things are going to be changed in this house," he said -sternly, "or I will bring influence to bear that will change them." -Every one knew that he referred to the national president of the -fraternity. "There will be no more drunken brawls in this house such as -we had at the last house dance. Any one who brings a cheap woman into -this house at a dance will hear from it. Both my fiancée and my sister -were at the last dance. I do not intend that they shall be insulted -again. This is not a bawdy-house, and I want some of you to remember -that."</p> - -<p>He tried very hard to pass a rule, such as many of the fraternities had, -that no one could bring liquor into the house and that there should be -no gambling. He failed, however. The brothers took his scolding about -the dance because most of them were heartily ashamed of that occasion; -but they announced that they did not intend to have the chapter turned -into the S. C. A., which was the Sanford Christian Association. It would -have been well for Hugh if the law had been passed. Vinton's insistent -generosity was rapidly turning him into a steady drinker. He did not get -drunk, but he was taking down more high-balls than were good for him.</p> - -<p>Outside of his drinking, however, he was leading a virtuous and, on the -whole, an industrious life. He was too much in love with Cynthia Day to -let his mind dwell on other women, and he had become sufficiently -interested in his studies to like them for their own sake.</p> - -<p>A change had come over the campus. It was inexplicable but highly -significant. There had been evidences of it the year before, but now it -became so evident that even some of the members of the faculty were -aware of it. Intolerance seemed to be dying, and the word "wet" was -heard less often. The undergraduates were forsaking their old gods. The -wave of materialism was swept back by an in-rushing tide of idealism. -Students suddenly ceased to concentrate in economics and filled the -English and philosophy classes to overflowing.</p> - -<p>No one was able really to explain the causes for the change, but it was -there and welcome. The "Sanford Literary Magazine," which had been -slowly perishing for several years, became almost as popular as the "Cap -and Bells," the comic magazine, which coined money by publishing risque -jokes and pictures of slightly dressed women. A poetry magazine daringly -made its appearance on the campus and, to the surprise of its editors, -was received so cordially that they were able to pay the printer's bill.</p> - -<p>It became the fashion to read. Instructors in English were continually -being asked what the best new books were or if such and such a book was -all that it was "cracked up to be." If the instructor hadn't read the -book, he was treated to a look of contempt that sent him hastening to -the library.</p> - -<p>Of course, not all of the undergraduates took to reading and thinking; -the millennium had not arrived, but the intelligent majority began to -read and discuss books openly, and the intelligent majority ruled the -campus.</p> - -<p>Hugh was one of the most enthusiastic of the readers. He was taking a -course in nineteenth-century poetry with Blake, the head of the English -department. His other instructors either bored him or left him cold, but -Blake turned each class hour into a thrilling experience. He was a -handsome man with gray hair, dark eyes, and a magnificent voice. He -taught poetry almost entirely by reading it, only occasionally -interpolating an explanatory remark, and he read beautifully. His -reading was dramatic, almost tricky; but it made the poems live for his -students, and they reveled in his classes.</p> - -<p>Hugh's junior year was made almost beautiful by that poetry course and -by his adoration for Cynthia. He was writing verses constantly—and he -found "Cynthia" an exceedingly troublesome word; it seemed as if nothing -would rime with it. At times he thought of taking to free verse, but the -results of his efforts did not satisfy him. He always had the feeling -that he had merely chopped up some rather bad prose; and he was -invariably right. Cynthia wrote him that she loved the poems he sent -her because they were so passionate. He blushed when he read her praise. -It disturbed him. He wished that she had used a different word.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> -<br /> - -<p>For the first term Hugh slid comfortably down a well oiled groove of -routine. He went to the movies regularly, wrote as regularly to Cynthia -and thought about her even more, read enormous quantities of poetry, -"bulled" with his friends, attended all the athletic contests, played -cards occasionally, and received his daily liquor from Vinton. He no -longer protested when Vinton offered him a drink; he accepted it as a -matter of course, and he had almost completely forgotten that "smoking -wasn't good for a runner." He had just about decided that he wasn't a -runner, anyway.</p> - -<p>One evening in early spring he met George Winsor as he was crossing the -campus.</p> - -<p>"Hello, George. Where are you going?"</p> - -<p>"Over to Ted Alien's room. Big poker party to-night. Don't you want to -sit in?"</p> - -<p>"You told me last week that you had sworn off poker. How come you're -playing again so soon?" Hugh strolled lazily along with Winsor.</p> - -<p>"Not poker, Hugh—craps. I've sworn off craps for good, and maybe I'll -swear off poker after to-night. I'm nearly a hundred berries to the good -right now, and I can afford to play if I want to."</p> - -<p>"I'm a little ahead myself," said Hugh. "I don't play very often, -though, except in the house when the fellows insist. I can't shoot craps -at all, and I get tired of cards after a couple of hours."</p> - -<p>"I'm a damn fool to play," Winsor asserted positively, "a plain damn -fool, I oughtn't to waste my time at it, but I'm a regular fiend for the -game. I get a great kick out of it. How's to sit in with us? There's -only going to be half a dozen fellows. Two-bit limit."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, it'll start with a two-bit limit, but after an hour deuces'll be -wild all over the place and the sky will be the limit. I've sat in those -games before."</p> - -<p>Winsor laughed. "Guess you're right, but what's the odds? Better shoot a -few hands."</p> - -<p>"Well, all-right, but I can't stay later than eleven. I've got a quiz in -eccy to-morrow, and I've got to bone up on it some time to-night."</p> - -<p>"I've got that quiz, too. I'll leave with you at eleven."</p> - -<p>Winsor and Hugh entered the dormitory and climbed the stairs. Allen's -door was open, and several undergraduates were lolling around the room, -smoking and chatting. They welcomed the new-comers with shouts of "Hi, -Hugh," and "Hi, George."</p> - -<p>Allen had a large round table in the center of his study, and the boys -soon had it cleared for action. Allen tossed the cards upon the table, -produced several ash-trays, and then carefully locked the door.</p> - -<p>"Keep an ear open for Mac," he admonished his friends; "He's warned me -twice now," "Mac" was the night-watchman, and he had a way of dropping -in unexpectedly on gambling parties. "Here are the chips. You count 'em -out, George. Two-bit limit."</p> - -<p>The boys drew up chairs to the table, lighted cigarettes or pipes, and -began the game. Hugh had been right; the "two-bit limit" was soon -lifted, and Allen urged his guests to go as far as they liked.</p> - -<p>There were ugly rumors about Allen around the campus. He was good -looking, belonged to a fraternity in high standing, wore excellent -clothes, and did fairly well in his studies; but the rumors persisted. -There were students who insisted that he hadn't the conscience of a -snake, and a good many of them hinted that no honest man ever had such -consistently good luck at cards and dice.</p> - -<p>The other boys soon got heated and talkative, but Allen said little -besides announcing his bids. His blue eyes remained coldly -expressionless whether he won or lost the hand; his crisp, curly brown -hair remained neatly combed and untouched by a nervous hand; his lips -parted occasionally in a quiet smile: he was the perfect gambler, never -excited, always in absolute control of himself.</p> - -<p>Hugh marveled at the control as the evening wore on. He was excited, -and, try as he would, he could not keep his excitement from showing. -Luck, however, was with him; by ten o'clock he was seventy-five dollars -ahead, and most of it was Allen's money.</p> - -<p>Hugh passed by three hands in succession, unwilling to take any chances. -He had decided to "play close," never betting unless he held something -worth putting his money on.</p> - -<p>Allen dealt the fourth hand. "Ante up," he said quietly. The five other -men followed his lead in tossing chips into the center of the table. He -looked at his hand. "Two blue ones if you want to stay in." Winsor and -two of the men threw down their cards, but Hugh and a lad named Mandel -each shoved two blue chips into the pot.</p> - -<p>Hugh had three queens and an ace. "One card," he said to Allen. Allen -tossed him the card, and Hugh's heart leaped when he saw that it was an -ace.</p> - -<p>"Two cards, Ted," Mandel requested, nervously crushing his cigarette in -an ash-tray. He picked up the cards one at a time, lifting each slowly -by one corner, and peeking at it as if he were afraid that a sudden full -view would blast him to eternity. His face did not change expression as -he added the cards to the three that he held in his hand.</p> - -<p>"I'm sitting pretty," Allen remarked casually, picking up the five -cards that he had laid down before he dealt.</p> - -<p>The betting began, Hugh nervous, openly excited, Mandel stonily calm, -Allen completely at ease. At first the bets were for a dollar, but they -gradually rose to five. Mandel threw down his cards.</p> - -<p>"Fight it out," he said morosely. "I've thrown away twenty-five bucks, -and I'll be damned if I'm going to throw away any more to see your -four-flushes."</p> - -<p>Allen lifted a pile of chips and let them fall lightly, clicking a rapid -staccato. "It'll cost you ten dollars to see my hand, Hugh," he said -quietly.</p> - -<p>"It'll cost you twenty if you want to see mine," Hugh responded, tossing -the equivalent to thirty dollars into the pot. He watched Allen eagerly, -but Allen's face remained quite impassive as he raised Hugh another ten.</p> - -<p>The four boys who weren't playing leaned forward, pipes or cigarettes in -their mouths, their stomachs pressed against the table, their eyes -narrowed and excited. The air was a stench of stale smoke; the silence -between bets was electric.</p> - -<p>The betting continued, Hugh sure that Allen was bluffing, but Allen -never failed to raise him ten dollars on every bet. Finally Hugh had a -hundred dollars in the pot and dared not risk more on his hand.</p> - -<p>"I think you're bluffing, goddamn it," he said, his voice shrill and -nervous. "I'll call you. Show your stinkin' hand."</p> - -<p>"Oh, not so stinkin'," Allen replied lightly. "I've got four of a kind, -all of 'em kings. Let's see your three deuces."</p> - -<p>He tossed down his hand, and Hugh slumped in his chair at the sight of -the four kings. He shoved the pile of chips toward Allen. "Take the pot, -damn you. Of all the bastard luck. Look!" He slapped down his cards -angrily. "A full house, queens up. Christ!" He burst into a flood of -obscenity, the other boys listening sympathetically, all except Allen -who was carefully stacking the chips.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes Hugh's anger died. He remembered that he was only about -twenty-five dollars behind and that he had an hour in which to recover -them. His face became set and hard; his hands lost their jerky -eagerness. He played carefully, never daring to enter a big pot, never -betting for more than his hands were worth.</p> - -<p>As the bets grew larger, the room grew quieter. Every one was smoking -constantly; the air was heavy with smoke, and the stench grew more and -more foul. Outside of a soft, "I raise you twenty," or, even, "Fifty -bucks if you want to see my hand," a muttered oath or a request to buy -chips, there was hardly a word said. The excitement was so intense that -it hurt; the expletives smelled of the docks.</p> - -<p>At times there was more than five hundred dollars in a pot, and five -times out of seven when the pot was big, Allen won it. Win or lose, he -continued cool and calm, at times smoking a pipe, other times puffing -nonchalantly at a cigarette.</p> - -<p>The acrid smoke cut Hugh's eyes; they smarted and pained, but he -continued to light cigarette after cigarette, drawing the smoke deep -into his lungs, hardly aware of the fact that they hurt.</p> - -<p>He won and lost, won and lost, but gradually he won back the twenty-five -dollars and a little more. The college clock struck eleven. He knew that -he ought to go, but he wondered if he could quit with honor when he was -ahead.</p> - -<p>"I ought to go," he said hesitatingly. "I told George when I said that -I'd sit in that I'd have to leave at eleven. I've got an eccy quiz -to-morrow that I've got to study for."</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't leave now," one of the men said excitedly. "Why, hell, man, -the game's just getting warm."</p> - -<p>"I know," Hugh agreed, "and I hate like hell to quit, but I've really -got to beat it. Besides, the stakes are too big for me. I can't afford a -game like this."</p> - -<p>"You can afford it as well as I can," Mandel said irritably. "I'm over -two hundred berries in the hole right now, and you can goddamn well bet -that I'm not going to leave until I get them back."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm a hundred and fifty to the bad," Winsor announced miserably, -"but I've got to go. If I don't hit that eccy, I'm going to be out of -luck." He shoved back his chair. "I hate like hell to leave; but I -promised Hugh that I'd leave with him at eleven, and I've got to do it."</p> - -<p>Allen had been quite indifferent when Hugh said that he was leaving. -Hugh was obviously small money, and Allen had no time to waste on -chicken-feed, but Winsor was a different matter.</p> - -<p>"You don't want to go, George, when you're in the hole. Better stick -around. Maybe you'll win it back. Your luck can't be bad all night."</p> - -<p>"You're right," said Winsor, stretching mightily. "It can't be bad all -night, but I can't hang around all night to watch it change. You're -welcome to the hundred and fifty, Ted, but some night soon I'm coming -over and take it away from you."</p> - -<p>Allen laughed. "Any time you say, George."</p> - -<p>Hugh and Winsor settled their accounts, then stood up, aching and weary, -their muscles cramped from three hours of sitting and nervous tension. -They said brief good nights, unlocked the door—they heard Allen lock it -behind them—and left their disgruntled friends, glad to be out of the -noisome odor of the room.</p> - -<p>"God, what luck!" Winsor exclaimed as they started down the hall. "I'm -off Allen for good. That boy wins big pots too regularly and always -loses the little ones. I bet he's a cold-deck artist or something."</p> - -<p>"He's something all right," Hugh agreed. "Cripes, I feel dirty and -stinko. I feel as if I'd been in a den."</p> - -<p>"You have been. Say, what's that?" They had almost traversed the length -of the long hall when Winsor stopped suddenly, taking Hugh by the arm. A -door was open, and they could hear somebody reading.</p> - -<p>"What's what?" Hugh asked, a little startled by the suddenness of -Winsor's question.</p> - -<p>"Listen. That poem, I've heard it somewhere before. What is it?"</p> - -<p>Hugh listened a moment and then said: "Oh, that's the poem Prof Blake -read us the other day—you know, 'marpessa.' It's about the shepherd, -<i>Apollo</i>, and <i>Marpessa</i>. It's great stuff. Listen."</p> - -<p>They remained standing in the deserted hall, the voice coming clearly to -them through the open doorway. "It's Freddy Fowler," Winsor whispered. -"He can sure read."</p> - -<p>The reading stopped, and they heard Fowler say to some one, presumably -his room-mate: "This is the part that I like best. Get it," Then he read -<i>Idas's</i> plea to <i>Marpessa</i>:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"'After such argument what can I plead?</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Or what pale promise make? Yet since it is</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>In women to pity rather than to aspire,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>A little I will speak. I love thee then</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Not only for thy body packed with sweet</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Of all this world, that cup of brimming June,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>That jar of violet wine set in the air,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>That palest rose sweet in the night of life;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Nor for that stirring bosom, all besieged</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>By drowsing lovers, or thy perilous hair;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Nor for that face that might indeed provoke</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Invasion of old cities; no, nor all</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Thy freshness stealing on me like strange sleep.'"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Winsor's hand tightened on Hugh's arm, and the two boys stood almost -rigid listening to the young voice, which was trembling with emotion, -rich with passion:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"'Not only for this do I love thee, but</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Because Infinity upon thee broods;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And thou are full of whispers and of shadows.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Thou meanest what the sea has striven to say</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Thou art what all the winds have uttered not,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>What the still night suggesteth to the heart.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Thy face remembered is from other worlds,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>It has been died for, though I know not when,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>It has been sung of, though I know not where.'"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>"God," Winsor whispered, "that's beautiful."</p> - -<p>"Hush. This is the best part."</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"'It has the strangeness of the luring West,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>And of sad sea-horizons; beside thee</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>I am aware of other times and lands,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Of birth far back, of lives in many stars.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>O beauty lone and like a candle clear</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>In this dark country of the world! Thou art</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>My woe, my early light, my music dying.'"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh and Winsor remained silent while the young voice went on reading -<i>Maressa's</i> reply, her gentle refusal of the god and her proud -acceptance, of the mortal. Finally they heard the last words:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"When she had spoken, Idas with one cry</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Held her, and there was silence; while the god</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>In anger disappeared. Then slowly they,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>He looking downward, and she gazing up,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Into the evening green wandered away."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>When the voice paused, the poem done, the two boys walked slowly down -the hall, down the steps, and out into the cool night air. Neither said -a Word until they were half-way across the campus. Then Winsor spoke -softly:</p> - -<p>"God! Wasn't that beautiful?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—beautiful." Hugh's voice was hardly more than a whisper. -"Beautiful.... It—it—oh, it makes me—kinda ashamed."</p> - -<p>"Me, too. Poker when we can have that! We're awful fools, Hugh."</p> - -<p>"Yes—awful fools."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> - -<p>Prom came early in May, and Hugh looked forward to it joyously, partly -because it would be his first Prom and partly because Cynthia was -coming. Cynthia! He thought of her constantly, dreamed of her, wrote -poems about her and to her. At times his longing for her swelled into an -ecstasy of desire that racked and tore him. He was lost in love, his -moods sweeping him from lyric happiness to black despair. He wrote to -her several times a week, and between letters he took long walks -composing dithyrambic epistles that fortunately were never written.</p> - -<p>When he received her letter saying that she would come to Prom, he -yelled like a lunatic, pounded the astonished Vinton on the back, and -raced down-stairs to the living-room.</p> - -<p>"She's coming!" he shouted.</p> - -<p>There were several men in the room, and they all turned and looked at -him, some of them grinning broadly.</p> - -<p>"What th' hell, Hugh?" Leonard Gates asked amiably. "Who's coming? Who's -she?"</p> - -<p>Hugh blushed and shuffled his feet. He knew that he had laid himself -open to a "royal razzing," but he proceeded to bluff himself out of the -dilemma.</p> - -<p>"She? Oh, yes, she. Well, she is she. Altogether divine, Len." He was -trying hard to be casual and flippant, but his eyes were dancing and his -lips trembled with smiles.</p> - -<p>Gates grinned at him. "A poor bluff, old man—a darn poor bluff. You're -in love, <i>pauvre enfant</i>, and I'm afraid that you're in a very bad way. -Come on, tell us the lady's name, her pedigree, and list of charms."</p> - -<p>Hugh grinned back at Gates. "Chase yourself," he said gaily. "I won't -tell you a blamed thing about her."</p> - -<p>"You'd better," said Jim Saunders from the depths of a leather chair. -"Is she the jane whose picture adorns your desk?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Hugh admitted. "How do you like her?"</p> - -<p>"Very fair, very fair." Saunders was magnificently lofty. "I've seen -better, of course, but I've seen worse, too. Not bad—um, not very bad."</p> - -<p>The "razzing" had started, and Hugh lost his nerve.</p> - -<p>"Jim, you can go to hell," he said definitely, prepared to rush -up-stairs before Saunders could reply. "You don't know a queen when you -see one. Why, Cynthia—"</p> - -<p>"Cynthia!" four of the boys shouted. "So her name's Cynthia. That's—"</p> - -<p>But Hugh was half-way up-stairs, embarrassed and delighted.</p> - -<p>The girls arrived on Thursday, the train which brought most of them -reaching Haydensville early in the afternoon. Hugh paced up and down the -station, trying to keep up a pretense of a conversation with two or -three others. He gave the wrong reply twice and then decided to say -nothing more. He listened with his whole body for the first whistle of -the train, and so great was the chatter of the hundreds of waiting -youths that he never heard it. Suddenly the engine rounded a curve, and -a minute later the train stopped before the station. Immediately the -boys began to mill around the platform like cattle about to stampede, -standing on their toes to look over the heads of their comrades, -shoving, shouting, dancing in their impatience.</p> - -<p>Girls began to descend the steps of the cars. The stampede broke. A -youth would see "his girl" and start through the crowd for her. Dozens -spotted their girls at the same time and tried to run through the crowd. -They bumped into one another, laughed joyously, bumped into somebody -else, and finally reached the girl.</p> - -<p>When Hugh eventually saw Cynthia standing on a car platform near him, he -shouted to her and held his hand high in greeting. She saw him and waved -back, at the same time starting down the steps.</p> - -<p>She had a little scarlet hat pulled down over her curly brown hair, and -she wore a simple blue traveling-suit that set off her slender figure -perfectly. Her eyes seemed bigger and browner than ever, her nose more -impudently tilted, her mouth more supremely irresistible. Her cheeks -were daintily rouged, her eyebrows plucked into a thin arch. She was New -York from her small pumps to the expensively simple scarlet hat.</p> - -<p>Hugh dashed several people aside and grabbed her hand, squeezing it -unmercifully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, gee, Cynthia, I'm glad to see you. I thought the darn train was -never going to get here. How are you? Gee, you're looking great, -wonderful. Where's your suit-case?" He fairly stuttered in his -excitement, his words toppling over each other.</p> - -<p>"I'm full of pep. You look wonderful. There's my suit-case, the big -black one. Give the porter two bits or something. I haven't any change." -Hugh tipped the porter, picked up the suit-case with one hand, and took -Cynthia by the arm with the other, carefully piloting her through the -noisy, surging crowd of boys and girls, all of them talking at top speed -and in high, excited voices.</p> - -<p>Once Hugh and Cynthia were off the platform they could talk without -shouting.</p> - -<p>"We've got to walk up the hill," Hugh explained miserably. "I couldn't -get a car for love nor money. I'm awfully sorry."</p> - -<p>Cynthia did a dance-step and petted his arm happily. "What do I care? -I'm so—so damn glad to see you, Hugh. You look nicer'n ever—just as -clean and washed and sweet. Ooooh, look at him blush! Stop it or I'll -have to kiss you right here. Stop it, I say."</p> - -<p>But Hugh went right on blushing. "Go ahead," he said bravely. "I wish -you would."</p> - -<p>Cynthia laughed. "Like fun you do. You'd die of embarrassment. But your -mouth is an awful temptation. You have the sweetest mouth, Hugh. It's so -damn kissable."</p> - -<p>She continued to banter him until they reached the fraternity house. -"Where do I live?" she demanded. "In your room, I hope."</p> - -<p>"Yep. I'm staying down in Keller Hall with Norry Parker. His room-mate's -sick in the hospital; so he's got room for me. Norry's going to see you -later."</p> - -<p>"Right-o. What do we do when I get six pounds of dirt washed off and -some powder on my nose?"</p> - -<p>"Well, we're having a tea-dance here at the house at four-thirty; but -we've got an hour till then, and I thought we'd take a walk. I want to -show you the college."</p> - -<p>After Cynthia had repaired the damages of travel and had been introduced -to Hugh's fraternity brothers and their girls, she and Hugh departed -for a tour of the campus. The lawns were so green that the grass seemed -to be bursting with color; the elms waved tiny new leaves in a faint -breeze; the walls of the buildings were speckled with green patches of -ivy. Cynthia was properly awed by the chapel and enthusiastic over the -other buildings. She assured Hugh that Sanford men looked awfully smooth -in their knickers and white flannels; in fact, she said the whole -college seemed jake to her.</p> - -<p>They wandered past the lake and into the woods as if by common consent. -Once they were out of sight of passers-by, Hugh paused and turned to -Cynthia. Without a word she stepped into his arms and lifted her face to -his, Hugh's heart seemed to stop; he was so hungry for that kiss, he had -waited so long for it.</p> - -<p>When he finally took his lips from hers, Cynthia whispered softly, -"You're such a good egg, Hugh honey, such a damn good egg."</p> - -<p>Hugh could say nothing; he just held her close, his mind swimming -dizzily, his whole being atingle. For a long time he held her, kissing -her, now tenderly, now almost brutally, lost in a thrill of passion.</p> - -<p>Finally she whispered faintly: "No more, Hugh. Not now, dear."</p> - -<p>Hugh released her reluctantly. "I love you so damned hard, Cynthia," he -said huskily. "I—I can't keep my hands off of you."</p> - -<p>"I know," she replied. "But we've got to go back. Wait a minute, -though. I must look like the devil." She straightened her hat, powdered -her nose, and then tucked her arm in his.</p> - -<p>After the tea-dance and dinner, Hugh left her to dress for the Dramatic -Society musical comedy that was to be performed that evening. He -returned to Norry Parker's room and prepared to put on his Tuxedo.</p> - -<p>"You look as if somebody had left you a million dollars," Norry said to -Hugh. "I don't think I ever saw anybody look so happy. You—you shine."</p> - -<p>Hugh laughed. "I am happy, Norry, happy as hell. I'm so happy I ache. -Oh, God, Cynthia's wonderful. I'm crazy about her, Norry—plumb crazy."</p> - -<p>Norry had known Cynthia for years, and despite his ingenuousness, he had -noticed some of her characteristics.</p> - -<p>"I never expected you to fall in love with Cynthia, Hugh," he said in -his gentle way. "I'm awfully surprised."</p> - -<p>Hugh was humming a strain from "Say it with Music" while he undressed. -He pulled off his trousers and then turned to Norry, who was sitting on -the bed. "What did you say? You said something, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>Norry smiled. For some quite inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt -older than Hugh.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I said something. I said that I never expected you to fall in love -with Cynthia."</p> - -<p>Hugh paused in taking off his socks. "Why not?" he demanded. "She's -wonderful."</p> - -<p>"You're so different."</p> - -<p>"How different? We understand each other perfectly. Of course, we only -saw each other for a week when I was down at your place, but we -understood each other from the first. I was crazy about her as soon as I -saw her."</p> - -<p>Norry was troubled. "I don't think I can explain exactly," he said -slowly. "Cynthia runs with a fast crowd, and she smokes and drinks—and -you're—well, you're idealistic."</p> - -<p>Hugh pulled off his underclothes and laughed as he stuck his feet into -slippers and drew on a bath-robe. "Of course, she does. All the girls do -now. She's just as idealistic as I am."</p> - -<p>He wrapped the bath-robe around him and departed for the showers, -singing gaily:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Say it with music,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Beautiful music;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Somehow they'd rather be kissed</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>To the strains of Chopin or Liszt.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>A melody mellow played on a cello</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Helps Mister Cupid along—</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>So say it with a beautiful song."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Shortly he returned, still singing the same song, his voice full and -happy. He continued to sing as he dressed, paying no attention to Norry, -completely lost in his own Elysian thoughts.</p> - -<p>To Hugh and Cynthia the musical comedy was a complete success, although -the music, written by an undergraduate, was strangely reminiscent of -several recent Broadway song successes, and the plot of the comedy got -lost after the first ten minutes and was never recovered until the last -two. It was amusing to watch men try to act like women, and two of the -"ladies" of the chorus were patently drunk. <i>Cleopatra</i>, the leading -lady, was a wrestler and looked it, his biceps swelling magnificently -every time he raised his arms to embrace the comic <i>Antony</i>. It was -glorious nonsense badly enough done to be really funny. Hugh and -Cynthia, along with the rest of the audience, laughed joyously—and held -hands.</p> - -<p>After the play was over, they returned to the Nu Delta house and danced -until two in the morning. During one dance Cynthia whispered to him, -"Hugh, get me a drink or I'll pass out."</p> - -<p>Hugh, forgetting his indignation of the year before, went in search of -Vinton and deprived that young man of a pint of gin without a scruple. -He and Cynthia then sneaked behind the house and did away with the -liquor. Other couples were drinking, all of them surreptitiously, -Leonard Gates having laid down the law in no uncertain manner, and all -of the brothers were a little afraid of Gates.</p> - -<p>Cynthia slept until noon the next day, and Hugh went to his classes. In -the afternoon they attended a baseball game, and then returned to the -fraternity house for another tea-dance. The Prom was to be that night. -Hugh assured Cynthia that it was going to be a "wet party," and that -Vinton had sold him a good supply of Scotch.</p> - -<p>The campus was rife with stories: this was the wettest Prom on record, -the girls were drinking as much as the men, some of the fraternities had -made the sky the limit, the dormitories were being invaded by couples in -the small hours of the night, and so on. Hugh heard numerous stories but -paid no attention to them. He was supremely happy, and that was all that -mattered. True, several men had advised him to bring plenty of liquor -along to the Prom if he wanted to have a good time, and he was careful -to act on their advice, especially as Cynthia had assured him that she -would dance until doomsday if he kept her "well oiled with hooch."</p> - -<p>The gymnasium was gaily decorated for the Prom, the walls hidden with -greenery, the rafters twined with the college colors and almost lost -behind hundreds of small Japanese lanterns. The fraternity booths were -made of fir boughs, and the orchestra platform in the middle of the -floor looked like a small forest of saplings.</p> - -<p>The girls were beautiful in the soft glow of the lanterns, their arms -and shoulders smooth and white; the men were trim and neat in their -Tuxedos, the dark suits emphasizing the brilliant colors of the girls' -gowns.</p> - -<p>It was soon apparent that some of the couples had got at least half -"oiled" before the dance began, and before an hour had passed many more -couples gave evidence of imbibing more freely than wisely. Occasionally -a hysterical laugh burst shrilly above the pounding of the drums and the -moaning of the saxophones. A couple would stagger awkwardly against -another couple and then continue unevenly on an uncertain way.</p> - -<p>The stags seemed to be the worst offenders. Many of them were joyously -drunk, dashing dizzily across the floor to find a partner, and once -having taken her from a friend, dragging her about, happily unconscious -of anything but the girl and the insistent rhythm of the music.</p> - -<p>The musicians played as if in a frenzy, the drums pound-pounding a -terrible tom-tom, the saxophones moaning and wailing, the violins -singing sensuously, shrilly as if in pain, an exquisite searing pain.</p> - -<p>Boom, boom, boom, boom. "Stumbling all around, stumbling all around, -stumbling all around so funny—" Close-packed the couples moved slowly -about the gymnasium, body pressed tight to body, swaying in place—boom, -boom, boom, boom—"Stumbling here and there, stumbling everywhere—" -Six dowagers, the chaperons, sat in a corner, gossiped, and idly watched -the young couples.... A man suddenly released his girl and raced -clumsily for the door, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other -stretched uncertainly in front of him.</p> - -<p>Always the drums beating their terrible tom-tom, their primitive, -blood-maddening tom-tom.... Boom, boom, boom, boom—"I like it just a -little bit, just a little bit, quite a little bit." The music ceased, -and some of the couples disentangled themselves; others waited in frank -embrace for the orchestra to begin the encore.... A boy slumped in a -chair, his head in his hands. His partner sought two friends. They -helped the boy out of the gymnasium.</p> - -<p>The orchestra leader lifted his bow. The stags waited in a broken line, -looking for certain girls. The music began, turning a song with comic -words into something weirdly sensuous—strange syncopations, uneven, -startling drum-beats—a mad tom-tom. The couples pressed close together -again, swaying, barely moving in place—boom, boom, boom, -boom—"Second-hand hats, second-hand clothes—That's why they call me -second-hand Rose...." The saxophones sang the melody with passionate -despair; the violins played tricks with a broken heart; the clarinets -rose shrill in pain; the drums beat on—boom, boom, boom, boom.... A -boy and girl sought a dark corner. He shielded her with his body while -she took a drink from a flask. Then he turned his face to the corner and -drank. A moment later they were back on the floor, holding each other -tight, drunkenly swaying.... Finally the last strains, a wall of -agony—"Ev-'ry one knows that I'm just Sec-ond-hand Rose—from Sec-ond -Av-en-ue."</p> - -<p>The couples moved slowly off the floor, the pounding of the drums still -in their ears and in their blood; some of them sought the fraternity -booths; some of the girls retired to their dressing-room, perhaps to -have another drink; many of the men went outside for a smoke and to tip -a flask upward. Through the noise, the sex-madness, the half-drunken -dancers, moved men and women quite sober, the men vainly trying to -shield the women from contact with any one who was drunk. There was an -angry light in those men's eyes, but most of them said nothing, merely -kept close to their partners, ready to defend them from any too -assertive friend.</p> - -<p>Again the music, again the tom-tom of the drums. On and on for hours. A -man "passed out cold" and had to be carried from the gymnasium. A girl -got a "laughing jag" and shrieked with idiotic laughter until her -partner managed to lead her protesting off the floor. On and on, the -constant rhythmic wailing of the fiddles, syncopated passion screaming -with lust, the drums, horribly primitive; drunken embraces.... "Oh, -those Wabash Blues—I know I got my dues—A lone-some soul am I—I feel -that I could die...." Blues, sobbing, despairing blues.... Orgiastic -music—beautiful, hideous! "Can-dle light that gleams—Haunts me in my -dreams...." The drums boom, boom, boom, booming—"I'll pack my walking -shoes, to lose—those Wa-bash Blues...."</p> - -<p>Hour after hour—on and on. Flushed faces, breaths hot with passion and -whisky.... Pretty girls, cool and sober, dancing with men who held them -with drunken lasciviousness; sober men hating the whisky breaths of the -girls.... On and on, the drunken carnival to maddening music—the -passion, the lust.</p> - -<p>Both Hugh and Cynthia were drinking, and by midnight both of them were -drunk, too drunk any longer to think clearly. As they danced, Hugh was -aware of nothing but Cynthia's body, her firm young body close to his. -His blood beat with the pounding of the drums. He held her tighter and -tighter—the gymnasium, the other couples, a swaying mist before his -eyes.</p> - -<p>When the dance ended, Cynthia whispered huskily, "Ta-take me somewhere, -Hugh."</p> - -<p>Strangely enough, he got the significance of her words at once. His -blood raced, and he staggered so crazily that Cynthia had to hold him by -the arm.</p> - -<p>"Sure—sure; I'll—I'll ta-take you some-somewhere. I—I, too, -Cyntheea."</p> - -<p>They walked unevenly out of the gymnasium, down the steps, and through -the crowd of smokers standing outside. Hardly aware of what he was -doing, Hugh led Cynthia to Keller Hall, which was not more than fifty -yards distant.</p> - -<p>He took a flask out of his pocket. "Jush one more drink," he said -thickly and emptied the bottle. Then, holding Cynthia desperately by the -arm, he opened the door of Keller Hall and stumbled with her up the -stairs to Norry Parker's room. Fortunately the hallways were deserted, -and no one saw them. The door was unlocked, and Hugh, after searching -blindly for the switch, finally clicked on the lights and mechanically -closed the door behind him.</p> - -<p>He was very dizzy. He wanted another drink—and he wanted Cynthia. He -put his arms around her and pulled her drunkenly to him. The door of one -of the bedrooms opened, and Norry Parker stood watching them. He had -spent the evening at the home of a musical professor and had returned to -his room only a few minutes before. His face went white when he saw the -embracing couple.</p> - -<p>"Hugh!" he said sharply.</p> - -<p>Hugh and Cynthia, still clinging to each other, looked at him. Slowly -Cynthia took her arms from around Hugh's neck and forced herself from -his embrace. Norry disappeared into his room and came out a minute later -with his coat on; he had just begun to undress when he had heard a noise -in the study.</p> - -<p>"I'll see you home, Cynthia," he said quietly. He took her arm and led -her out of the room—and locked the door behind him. Hugh stared at them -blankly, swaying slightly, completely befuddled. Cynthia went with Norry -willingly enough, leaning heavily on his arm and occasionally sniffing.</p> - -<p>When he returned to his room, Hugh was sitting on the floor staring at a -photograph of Norry's mother. He had been staring at it for ten minutes, -holding it first at arm's length and then drawing it closer and closer -to him. No matter where he held it, he could not see what it was—and he -was determined to see it.</p> - -<p>Norry walked up to him and reached for the photograph.</p> - -<p>"Give me that," he said curtly. "Take your hands on my mother's -picture."</p> - -<p>"It's not," Hugh exclaimed angrily; "it's not. It's my musher, my own -mu-musher—my, my own dear musher. Oh, oh!"</p> - -<p>He slumped down in a heap and began to sob bitterly, muttering, "Musher, -musher, musher."</p> - -<p>Norry was angry. The whole scene was revolting to him. His best friend -was a disgusting sight, apparently not much better than a gibbering -idiot. And Hugh had shamefully abused his hospitality. Norry was no -longer gentle and boyish; he was bitterly disillusioned.</p> - -<p>"Get up," he said briefly. "Get up and go to bed."</p> - -<p>"Tha's my musher. You said it wasn't my—my musher." Hugh looked up, his -face wet with maudlin tears.</p> - -<p>Norry leaned over and snatched the picture from him. "Take your dirty -hands off of that," he snapped. "Get up and go to bed."</p> - -<p>"Tha's my musher." Hugh was gently persistent.</p> - -<p>"It's not your mother. You make me sick. Go to bed." Norry tugged at -Hugh's arm impotently; Hugh simply sat limp, a dead weight.</p> - -<p>Norry's gray eyes narrowed. He took a glass, filled it with cold water -in the bedroom, and then deliberately dashed the water into Hugh's face.</p> - -<p>Then he repeated the performance.</p> - -<p>Hugh shook his head and rubbed his hands wonderingly over his face. "I'm -no good," he said almost clearly. "I'm no good."</p> - -<p>"You certainly aren't. Come on; get up and go to bed." Again Norry -tugged at his arm, and this time Hugh, clinging clumsily to the edge of -the table by which he was sitting, staggered to his feet.</p> - -<p>"I'm a blot," he declared mournfully; "I'm no good, Norry. I'm an—an -excreeshence, an ex-cree-shence, tha's what I am."</p> - -<p>"Something of the sort," Norry agreed in disgust. "Here, let me take off -your coat."</p> - -<p>"Leave my coat alone." He pulled himself away from Norry. "I'm no good. -I'm an ex-cree-shence. I'm goin' t' commit suicide; tha's what I'm goin' -t' do. Nobody'll care 'cept my musher, and she wouldn't either if she -knew me. Oh, oh, I wish I didn't use a shafety-razor. I'll tell you what -to do, Norry." He clung pleadingly to Norry's arm and begged with -passionate intensity. "You go over to Harry King's room. He's got a -re-re—a pistol. You get it for me and I'll put it right here—" he -touched his temple awkwardly—"and I'll—I'll blow my damn brains out. -I'm a blot, Norry; I'm an ex-cree-shence."</p> - -<p>Norry shook him. "Shut up. You've got to go to bed. You're drunk."</p> - -<p>"I'm sick. I'm an ex-cree-shence." The room was whizzing rapidly around -Hugh, and he clung hysterically to Norry. Finally he permitted himself -to be led into the bedroom and undressed, still moaning that he was an -"ex-cree-shence."</p> - -<p>The bed pitched. He lay on his right side, clutching the covers in -terror. He turned over on his back. Still the bed swung up and down -sickeningly. Then he twisted over to his left side, and the bed -suddenly swung into rest, almost stable. In a few minutes he was sound -asleep.</p> - -<p>He cut chapel and his two classes the next morning, one at nine and the -other at ten o'clock; in fact, it was nearly eleven when he awoke. His -head was splitting with pain, his tongue was furry, and his mouth tasted -like bilge-water. He made wry faces, passed his thick tongue around his -dry mouth—oh, so damnably dry!—and pressed the palms of his hands to -his pounding temples. He craved a drink of cold water, but he was afraid -to get out of bed. He felt pathetically weak and dizzy.</p> - -<p>Norry walked into the room and stood quietly looking at him.</p> - -<p>"Get me a drink, Norry, please," Hugh begged.</p> - -<p>"I'm parched." He rolled over. "Ouch! God, how my head aches!"</p> - -<p>Norry brought him the drink, but nothing less than three glasses even -began to satisfy Hugh. Then, still saying nothing, Norry put a cold -compress on Hugh's hot forehead.</p> - -<p>"Thanks, Norry old man. That's awfully damn good of you."</p> - -<p>Norry walked out of the room, and Hugh quickly fell into a light sleep. -An hour later he woke up, quite unaware of the fact that Norry had -changed the cold compress three times. The nap had refreshed him. He -still felt weak and faint; but his head no longer throbbed, and his -throat was less dry.</p> - -<p>"Norry," he called feebly.</p> - -<p>"Yes?" Norry stood in the doorway. "Feeling better?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, some. Come sit down on the bed. I want to talk to you. But get me -another drink first, please. My mouth tastes like burnt rubber."</p> - -<p>Norry gave him the drink and then sat down on the edge of the bed, -silently waiting.</p> - -<p>"I'm awfully ashamed of myself, old man," Hugh began. "I—I don't know -what to say. I can't remember much what happened. I remember bringing -Cynthia up here and you coming in and then—well, I somehow can't -remember anything after that. What did you do?"</p> - -<p>"I took Cynthia home and then came back and put you to bed." Norry gazed -at the floor and spoke softly.</p> - -<p>"You took Cynthia home?"</p> - -<p>"Of course."</p> - -<p>Hugh stared at him in awe. "But if you'd been seen with her in the dorm, -you'd have been fired from college."</p> - -<p>"Nobody saw us. It's all right."</p> - -<p>Hugh wanted to cry. "Oh, Lord, Norry, you're white," he exclaimed. "The -whitest fellow that ever lived. You took that chance for me."</p> - -<p>"That's all right." Norry was painfully embarrassed.</p> - -<p>"And I'm such a rotter. You—you know what we came up here for?"</p> - -<p>"I can guess." Norry's glance still rested on the floor. He spoke hardly -above a whisper.</p> - -<p>"Nothing happened. I swear it, Norry. I meant to—but—but you -came—thank God! I was awfully soused. I guess you think I'm rotten, -Norry. I suppose I am. I don't know how I could treat you this way. Are -you awfully angry?"</p> - -<p>"I was last night," Norry replied honestly, "but I'm not this morning. -I'm just terribly disappointed. I understand, I guess; I'm human, -too—but I'm disappointed. I can't forget the way you looked."</p> - -<p>"Don't!" Hugh cried. "Please don't, Norry. I—I can't stand it if you -talk that way. I'm so damned ashamed. Please forgive me."</p> - -<p>Norry was very near to tears. "Of course, I forgive you," he whispered, -"but I hope you won't do it again."</p> - -<p>"I won't, Norry. I promise you. Oh, God, I'm no good. That's twice I've -been stopped by an accident. I'll go straight now, though; I promise -you."</p> - -<p>Norry stood up. "It's nearly noon," he said more naturally. "Cynthia -will be wondering where you are."</p> - -<p>"Cynthia! Oh, Norry, how can I face her?"</p> - -<p>"You've got to," said the young moralist firmly.</p> - -<p>"I suppose so," the sinner agreed, his voice miserably lugubrious. -"God!"</p> - -<p>After three cups of coffee, however, the task did not seem so -impossible. Hugh entered the Nu Delta house with a fairly jaunty air and -greeted the men and women easily enough. His heart skipped a beat when -he saw Cynthia standing in the far corner of the living-room. She was -wearing her scarlet hat and blue suit.</p> - -<p>She saved him the embarrassment of opening the conversation. "Come into -the library," she said softly. "I want to speak to you."</p> - -<p>Wondering and rather frightened, he followed her.</p> - -<p>"I'm going home this afternoon," she began. "I've got everything packed, -and I've told everybody that I don't feel very well."</p> - -<p>"You aren't sick?" he asked, really worried.</p> - -<p>"Of course not, but I had to say something. The train leaves in an hour -or two, and I want to have a talk with you before I go."</p> - -<p>"But hang it, Cynthia, think of what you're missing. There's a baseball -game with Raleigh this afternoon, a tea-dance in the Union after that, -the Musical Clubs concert this evening—I sing with the Glee club and -Norry's going to play a solo, and I'm in the Banjo Club, too—and we are -going to have a farewell dance at the house after the concert." Hugh -pleaded earnestly; but somehow down in his heart he wished that she -wouldn't stay.</p> - -<p>"I know, but I've got to go. Let's go somewhere out in the woods where -we can talk without being disturbed."</p> - -<p>Still protesting, he led her out of the house, across the campus, past -the lake, and into the woods. Finally they sat down on a smooth rock.</p> - -<p>"I'm awfully sorry to bust up your party, Hugh," Cynthia began slowly, -"but I've been doing some thinking, and I've just got to beat it." She -paused a moment and then looked him square in the eyes. "Do you love -me?"</p> - -<p>For an instant Hugh's eyes dropped, and then he looked up and lied like -a gentleman. "Yes," he said simply; "I love you, Cynthia."</p> - -<p>She smiled almost wearily and shook her head. "You <i>are</i> a good egg, -Hugh. It was white of you to say that, but I know that you don't love -me. You did yesterday, but you don't now. Do you realize that you -haven't asked to kiss me to-day?"</p> - -<p>Hugh flushed and stammered: "I—I've got an awful hang-over, Cynthia. I -feel rotten."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know, but that isn't why you didn't want to kiss me. I know all -about it. Listen, Hugh." She faced him bravely. "I've been running with -a fast crowd for three years, and I've learned a lot about fellows; and -most of 'em that I've known weren't your kind. How old are you?"</p> - -<p>"Twenty-one in a couple of months."</p> - -<p>"I'm twenty and lots wiser about some things than you are. I've been -crazy about you—I guess I am kinda yet—and I know that you thought you -were in love with me. I wanted you to have hold of me all the time. -That's all that mattered. It was—was your body, Hugh. You're sweet and -fine, and I respect you, but I'm not the kid for you to run around with. -I'm too fast. I woke up early this morning, and I've done a lot of -thinking since. You know what we came near doing last night? Well, -that's all we want each other for. We're not in love."</p> - -<p>A phrase from the bull sessions rushed into Hugh's mind. "You mean—sex -attraction?" he asked in some embarrassment. He felt weak and tired. He -seemed to be listening to Cynthia in a dream. Nothing was real—and -everything was a little sad.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's it—and, oh, Hugh, somehow I don't want that with you. -We're not the same kind at all. I used to think that when I got your -letters. Sometimes I hardly understood them, but I'd close my eyes and -see you so strong and blond and clean, and I'd imagine you were holding -me tight—and—and then I was happy. I guess I did kinda love you, but -we've spoiled it." She wanted desperately to cry but bit her lip and -held back her tears.</p> - -<p>"I think I know what you mean, Cynthia," Hugh said softly. "I don't know -much about love and sex attraction and that sort of thing, but I know -that I was happier kissing you than I've ever been in my life. I—I wish -that last night hadn't happened. I hate myself."</p> - -<p>"You needn't. It was more my fault than yours. I'm a pretty bad egg, I -guess; and the booze and you holding me was too much. I hate myself, -too. I've spoiled the nicest thing that ever happened to me." She looked -up at him, her eyes bright with tears. "I <i>did</i> love you, Hugh. I loved -you as much as I could love any one."</p> - -<p>Hugh put his arms around her and drew her to him. Then he bent his head -and kissed her gently. There was no passion in his embrace, but there -was infinite tenderness. He felt spiritually and physically weak, as if -all his emotional resources had been quite spent.</p> - -<p>"I think that I love you more than I ever did before," he whispered.</p> - -<p>If he had shown any passion, if there had been any warmth in his kiss, -Cynthia might have believed him, but she was aware only of his -gentleness. She pushed him back and drew out of his arms.</p> - -<p>"No," she said sharply; "you don't love me. You're just sorry for -me.... You're just kind."</p> - -<p>Hugh had read "Marpessa" many times, and a line from it came to make her -attitude clear:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 16.5em;'>"thou wouldst grow kind;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Most bitter to a woman that was loved."</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know; I don't know," he said miserably. "Let's not call -everything off now, Cynthia. Let's wait a while."</p> - -<p>"No!" She stood up decisively. "No. I hate loose ends." She glanced at -her tiny wrist-watch. "If I'm going to make that train, I've got to -hurry. We've got barely half an hour. Come, Hugh. Be a sport."</p> - -<p>He stood up, his face white and weary, his blue eyes dull and sad.</p> - -<p>"Just as you say, Cynthia," he said slowly. "But I'm going to miss you -like hell."</p> - -<p>She did not reply but started silently for the path. He followed her, -and they walked back to the fraternity house without saying a word, both -busy with unhappy thoughts.</p> - -<p>When they reached the fraternity, she got her suit-case, handed it to -him, declined his offer of a taxi, and walked unhappily by his side down -the hill that they had climbed so gaily two days before. Hugh had just -time to get her ticket before the train started.</p> - -<p>She paused a moment at the car steps and held out her hand. "Good-by, -Hugh," she said softly, her lips trembling, her eyes full of tears.</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Cynthia," he whispered. And then, foolishly, "Thanks for -coming."</p> - -<p>She did not smile but drew her hand from his and mounted the steps. An -instant later she was inside the car and the train was moving.</p> - -<p>Numbed and miserable, Hugh slowly climbed the hill and wandered back to -Norry Parker's room. He was glad that Norry wasn't there. He paced up -and down the room a few minutes trying to think. Then he threw himself -despairingly on a couch, face down. He wanted to cry; he had never -wanted so much to cry—and he couldn't. There were no tears—and he had -lost something very precious. He thought it was love; it was only his -dreams.</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>For several days Hugh was tortured by doubt and indecision: there were -times when he thought that he loved Cynthia, times when he was sure that -he didn't; when he had just about made up his mind that he hated her, he -found himself planning to follow her to New Rochelle; he tried to -persuade himself that his conduct was no more reprehensible than that of -his comrades, but shame invariably overwhelmed his arguments; there were -hours when he ached for Cynthia, and hours when he loathed her for -smashing something that had been beautiful. Most of all, he wanted -comfort, advice, but he knew no one to whom he was willing to give his -confidence. Somehow, he couldn't admit his drunkenness to any one whose -advice he valued. He called on Professor Henley twice, intending to make -a clean breast of his transgressions. Henley, he knew, would not lecture -him, but when he found himself facing him, he could not bring himself to -confession; he was afraid of losing Henley's respect.</p> - -<p>Finally, in desperation, he talked to Norry, not because he thought -Norry could help him but because he had to talk to somebody and Norry -already knew the worst. They went walking far out into the country, idly -discussing campus gossip or pausing to revel in the beauty of the night, -the clear, clean sky, the pale moon, the fireflies sparkling suddenly -over the meadows or even to the tree-tops. Weary from their long walk, -they sat down on a stump, and Hugh let the dam of his emotion break.</p> - -<p>"Norry," he began intensely, "I'm in hell—in hell. It's a week since -Prom, and I haven't had a line from Cynthia. I haven't dared write to -her."</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"She—she—oh, damn it!—she told me before she left that everything was -all off. That's why she left early. She said that we didn't love each -other, that all we felt was sex attraction. I don't know whether she's -right or not, but I miss her like the devil. I—I feel empty, sort of -hollow inside, as if everything had suddenly been poured out of me—and -there's nothing to take its place. I was full of Cynthia, you see, and -now there's no Cynthia. There's nothing left but—oh, God, Norry, I'm -ashamed of myself. I feel—dirty." The last word was hardly audible.</p> - -<p>Norry touched his arm. "I know, Hugh, and I'm awfully sorry. I think, -though, that Cynthia was right. I know her better than you do. She's an -awfully good kid but not your kind at all; I think I feel as badly -almost as you do about it." He paused a moment and then said simply, "I -was so proud of you, Hugh."</p> - -<p>"Don't!" Hugh exclaimed. "I want to kill myself when you say things like -that."</p> - -<p>"You don't understand. I know that you don't understand. I've been doing -a lot of thinking since Prom, too. I've thought over a lot of things -that you've said to me—about me, I mean. Why, Hugh, you think I'm not -human. I don't believe you think I have passions like the rest of you. -Well, I do, and sometimes it's—it's awful. I'm telling you that so -you'll understand that I know how you feel. But love's beautiful to me, -Hugh, the most wonderful thing in the world. I was in love with a girl -once—and I know. She didn't give a hang for me; she thought I was a -baby. I suffered awfully; but I know that my love was beautiful, as -beautiful as—" He looked around for a simile—"as to-night. I think -it's because of that that I hate mugging and petting and that sort of -thing. I don't want beauty debased. I want to fight when orchestras jazz -famous arias. Well, petting is jazzing love; and I hate it. Do you see -what I mean?"</p> - -<p>Hugh looked at him wonderingly. He didn't know this Norry at all. "Yes," -he said slowly; "yes, I see what you mean; I think I do, anyway. But -what has it to do with me?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I know most of the fellows pet and all that sort of thing, and -they don't think anything about it. But you're different; you love -beautiful things as much as I do. You told me yourself that Jimmie -Henley said last year that you were gifted. You can write and sing and -run, but I've just realized that you aren't proud of those things at -all; you just take them for granted. And you're ashamed that you write -poetry. Some of your poems are good, but you haven't sent any of them to -the poetry magazine. You don't want anybody to know that you write -poetry. You're trying to make yourself like fellows that are inferior to -you." Norry was piteously in earnest. His hero had crumbled into clay -before his eyes, and he was trying to patch him together again -preparatory to boosting him back upon his pedestal.</p> - -<p>"Oh, cripes, Norry," Hugh said a little impatiently, "you exaggerate all -my virtues; you always have. I'm not half the fellow you think I am. I -do love beautiful things, but I don't believe my poetry is any good." He -paused a moment and then confessed mournfully: "I'll admit, though, that -I have been going downhill. I'm going to do better from now on. You -watch me."</p> - -<p>They talked for hours, Norry embarrassing Hugh with the frankness of -his admiration. Norry's hero-worship had always embarrassed him, but he -didn't like it when the worshiper began to criticize. He admitted the -justness of the criticism, but it hurt him just the same. Perching on a -pedestal had been uncomfortable but a little thrilling; sitting on the -ground and gazing up at his perch was rather humiliating. The fall had -bruised him; and Norry, with the best intentions in the world, was -kicking the bruises.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, he felt better after the talk, determined to win back -Norry's esteem and his own. He swore off smoking and drinking and stuck -to his oath. He told Vinton that if he brought any more liquor to their -room one of them was going to be carried out, and that he had a hunch -that it would be Vinton. Vinton gazed at him with round eyes and -believed him. After that he did his drinking elsewhere, confiding to his -cronies that Carver was on the wagon and that he had got as religious as -holy hell. "He won't let me drink in my own room," he wailed dolorously. -And then with a sudden burst of clairvoyance, he added, "I guess his -girl has given him the gate."</p> - -<p>For weeks the campus buzzed with talk about the Prom. A dozen men who -had been detected <i>flagrante delicto</i> were summarily expelled. Many -others who had been equally guilty were in a constant state of mental -goose-flesh. Would the next mail bring a summons from the dean? -President Culver spoke sternly in chapel and hinted that there would be -no Prom the coming year. Most of the men said that the Prom had been an -"awful brawl," but there were some who insisted that it was no worse -than the Proms held at other colleges, and recited startling tales in -support of their argument.</p> - -<p>Leonard Gates finally settled the whole matter for Hugh. There had been -many discussions in the Nu Delta living-room about the Prom, and in one -of them Gates ended the argument with a sane and thoughtful statement.</p> - -<p>"The Prom was a brawl," he said seriously, "a drunken brawl. We all -admit that. The fact that Proms at other colleges are brawls, too, -doesn't make ours any more respectable. If a Yale man happens to commit -murder and gets away with it, that is no reason that a Harvard man or a -Sanford man should commit murder, too. Some of you are arguing like -babies. But some of you are going to the other extreme.</p> - -<p>"You talk as if everybody at the Prom was lit. Well, I wasn't lit, and -as a matter of fact most of them weren't lit. Just use a little common -sense. There were three hundred and fifty couples at the Prom. Now, not -half of them even had a drink. Say that half did. That makes one hundred -and seventy-five fellows. If fifty of those fellows were really soused, -I'll eat my hat, but we'll say that there were fifty. Fifty were quite -enough to make the whole Prom look like a longshoreman's ball. You've -got to take the music into consideration, too. That orchestra could -certainly play jazz; it could play it too damn well. Why, that music was -enough to make a saint shed his halo and shake a shimmy.</p> - -<p>"What I'm getting to is this: there are over a thousand fellows in -college, and out of that thousand not more than fifty were really soused -at the Prom, and not more than a hundred and seventy-five were even a -little teed. To go around saying that Sanford men are a lot of muckers -just because a small fraction of them acted like gutter-pups is sheer -bunk. The Prom was a drunken brawl, but all Sanford men aren't -drunkards—not by a damn sight."</p> - -<p>Hugh had to admit the force of Gates's reasoning, and he found comfort -in it. He had been just about ready to believe that all college men and -Sanford men in particular were hardly better than common muckers. But in -the end the comfort that he got was small: he realized bitterly that he -was one of the minority that had disgraced his college; he was one of -the gutter-pups. The recognition of that undeniable fact cut deep.</p> - -<p>He was determined to redeem himself; he <i>had</i> to, somehow. Living a life -of perfect rectitude was not enough; he had to do something that would -win back his own respect and the respect of his fellows, which he -thought, quite absurdly, that he had forfeited. So far as he could see, -there was only one way that he could justify his existence at Sanford; -that was to win one of the dashes in the Sanford-Raleigh meet. He clung -to that idea with the tenacity of a fanatic.</p> - -<p>He had nearly a month in which to train, and train he did as he never -had before. His diet became a matter of the utmost importance; a -rub-down was a holy rite, and the words of Jansen, the coach, divine -gospel. He placed in both of the preliminary meets, but he knew that he -could do better; he wasn't yet in condition.</p> - -<p>When the day for the Raleigh-Sanford meet finally came, he did not feel -any of the nervousness that had spelled defeat for him in his freshman -year. He was stonily calm, silently determined. He was going to place in -the hundred and win the two-twenty or die in the attempt. No golden -dreams of breaking records excited him. Calvert of Raleigh was running -the hundred consistently in ten seconds and had been credited with -better time. Hugh had no hopes of defeating him in the hundred, but -there was a chance in the two-twenty. Calvert was a short-distance man, -the shorter the better. Two hundred and twenty yards was a little too -far for him.</p> - -<p>Calvert did not look like a runner. He was a good two inches shorter -than Hugh, who lacked nearly that much of six feet. Calvert was heavily -built—a dark, brawny chap, both quick and powerful. Hugh looked at him -and for a moment hated him. Although he did not phrase it so—in fact, -he did not phrase it at all—Calvert was his obstacle in his race for -redemption.</p> - -<p>Calvert won the hundred-yard dash in ten seconds flat, breaking the -Sanford-Raleigh record. Hugh, running faster than he ever had in his -life, barely managed to come in second ahead of his team-mate Murphy. -The Sanford men cheered him lustily, but he hardly listened. He <i>had</i> to -win the two-twenty.</p> - -<p>At last the runners were called to the starting-line. They danced up and -down the track flexing their muscles. Hugh was tense but more determined -than nervous. Calvert pranced around easily; he seemed entirely -recovered from his great effort in the hundred. Finally the starter -called them to their marks. They tried their spikes in the -starting-holes, scraped them out a bit more, made a few trial dashes, -and finally knelt in line at the command of the starter.</p> - -<p>Hugh expected Calvert to lead for the first hundred yards; but the last -hundred, that was where Calvert would weaken. Calvert was sure to be -ahead at the beginning—but after that!</p> - -<p>"On your marks.</p> - -<p>"Set."</p> - -<p>The pistol cracked. The start was perfect; the five men leaped forward -almost exactly together. For once Calvert had not beaten the others off -the mark, but he immediately drew ahead. He was running powerfully, his -legs rising and falling in exact rhythm, his spikes tearing into the -cinder path. But Hugh and Murphy were pressing him close. At the end of -the first hundred Calvert led by a yard. Hugh pounded on, Murphy falling -behind him. The others were hopelessly outclassed. Hugh did not think; -he did not hear a thousand men shouting hysterically, "Carver! Carver!" -He saw nothing but Calvert a yard ahead of him. He knew nothing but that -he had to make up that yard. Down the track they sped, their breath -bursting from them, their hands clenched, their faces grotesquely -distorted, their legs driving them splendidly on.</p> - -<p>Hugh was gaining; that yard was closing. He sensed it rather than saw -it. He saw nothing now, not even Calvert. Blinded with effort, his lungs -aching, his heart pounding terribly, he fought on, mechanically keeping -between the two white lines. Ten yards from the tape he was almost -abreast of Calvert. He saw the tape through a red haze; he made a final -valiant leap for it—but he never touched it: Calvert's chest had -broken it a tiny fraction of a second before.</p> - -<p>Hugh almost collapsed after the race. Two men caught him and carried -him, despite his protests, to the dressing-room. At first he was aware -only of his overwhelming weariness. Something very important had -happened. It was over, and he was tired, infinitely tired. A rub-down -refreshed his muscles, but his spirit remained weary. For a month he had -thought of nothing but that race—even Cynthia had become strangely -insignificant in comparison with it—and now that the race had been run -and lost, his whole spirit sagged and drooped.</p> - -<p>He was pounded on the back; his hand was grasped and shaken until it -ached; he was cheered to an echo by the thrilled Sanford men; but still -his depression remained. He had won his letter, he had run a magnificent -race, all Sanford sang his praise—Norry Parker had actually cried with -excitement and delight—but he felt that he had failed; he had not -justified himself.</p> - -<p>A few days later he entered Henley's office, intending to make only a -brief visit. Henley congratulated him. "You were wonderful, Hugh," he -said enthusiastically. "The way that you crawled up on him the last -hundred yards was thrilling. I shouted until I was hoarse. I never saw -any one fight more gamely. He's a faster man than you are, but you -almost beat him. I congratulate you—excuse the word, please—on your -guts."</p> - -<p>Somehow Hugh couldn't stand Henley's enthusiasm. Suddenly he blurted out -the whole story, his drunkenness at the Prom, his split with Cynthia—he -did not mention the visit to Norry's room—his determination to redeem -himself, his feeling that if he had won that race he would at least have -justified his existence at the college, and, finally, his sense of -failure.</p> - -<p>Henley listened sympathetically, amused and touched by the boy's naive -philosophy. He did not tell him that the race was relatively -unimportant—he was sure that Hugh would find that out for himself—but -he did bring him comfort.</p> - -<p>"You did not fail, Hugh," he said gently; "you succeeded magnificently. -As for serving your college, you can always serve it best by being -yourself, being true to yourself, I mean, and that means being the very -fine gentleman that you are." He paused a minute, aware that he must be -less personal; Hugh was red to the hair and gazing unhappily at the -floor.</p> - -<p>"You must read Browning," he went on, "and learn about his -success-in-failure philosophy. He maintains that it is better to strive -for a million and miss it than to strive for a hundred and get it. 'A -man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?' He says it -in a dozen different ways. It's the man who tries bravely for something -beyond his power that gets somewhere, the man who really succeeds. Well, -you tried for something beyond your power—to beat Calvert, a really -great runner. You tried to your utmost; therefore, you succeeded. I -admire your sense of failure; it means that you recognize an ideal. But -I think that you succeeded. You may not have quite justified yourself to -yourself, but you have proved capable of enduring a hard test bravely. -You have no reason to be depressed, no reason to be ashamed."</p> - -<p>They talked for a long time, and finally Henley confessed that he -thought Cynthia had been wise in taking herself out of Hugh's life.</p> - -<p>"I can see," he said, "that you aren't telling me quite all the story. I -don't want you to, either. I judge, however, from what you have said -that you went somewhere with her and that only complete drunkenness -saved you from disgracing both yourself and her. You need no lecture, I -am sure; you are sufficiently contrite. I have a feeling that she was -right about sexual attraction being paramount; and I think that she is a -very brave girl. I like the way she went home, and I like the way she -has kept silent. Not many girls could or would do that. It takes -courage. From what you have said, however, I imagine that she is not -your kind; at least, that she isn't the kind that is good for you. You -have suffered and are suffering, I know, but I am sure that some day you -are going to be very grateful to that girl—for a good many reasons."</p> - -<p>Hugh felt better after that talk, and the end of the term brought him a -surprise that wiped out his depression and his sense of failure. He -found, too, that his pain was growing less; the wound was healing. -Perversely, he hated it for healing, and he poked it viciously to feel -it throb. Agony had become sweet. It made life more intense, less -beautiful, perhaps, but more wonderful, more real. Romantically, too, he -felt that he must be true both to his love and to his sorrow, and his -love was fading into a memory that was plaintively gray but shot with -scarlet thrills—and his sorrow was bowing before the relentless -excitement of his daily life.</p> - -<p>The surprise that rehabilitated him in his own respect was his election -to the Boulé, the senior council and governing board of the student -body. It was the greatest honor that an undergraduate could receive, and -Hugh had in no way expected it. When Nu Delta had first suggested to him -that he be a candidate, he had demurred, saying that there were other -men in his delegation better fitted to serve and with better chances of -election. Leonard Gates, however, felt otherwise; and before Hugh knew -what had happened he was a candidate along with thirty other juniors, -only twelve of whom could be elected.</p> - -<p>He took no part in the campaigning, attended none of the caucuses, was -hardly interested in the fraternity "combine" that promised to elect -him. He did not believe that he could be elected; he saw no reason why -he should be. As a matter of fact, as Gates and others well knew, his -chances were more than good. Hugh was popular in his own right, and his -great race in the Sanford-Raleigh meet had made him something of a hero -for the time being. Furthermore, he was a member of both the Glee and -Banjo Clubs, he had led his class in the spring sings for three years, -and he had a respectable record in his studies.</p> - -<p>The tapping took place in chapel the last week of classes. After the -first hymn, the retiring members of the Boulé rose and marched down the -aisle to where the juniors were sitting. The new members were tapped in -the order of the number of votes that they had received, and the first -man tapped, having received the largest number of votes, automatically -became president of the Boulé for the coming year.</p> - -<p>Hugh's interest naturally picked up the day of the election, and he -began to have faint hopes that he would be the tenth or eleventh man. To -his enormous surprise he was tapped third, and he marched down the -aisle to the front seat reserved for the new members with the applause -of his fellows sweet in his ears. It didn't seem possible; he was one of -the most popular and most respected men in his class. He could not -understand it, but he didn't particularly care to understand it; the -honor was enough.</p> - -<p>Nu Delta tried to heap further honors on him, but he declined them. As a -member of Boulé he was naturally nominated for the presidency of the -chapter. Quite properly, he felt that he was not fitted for such a -position; and he retired in favor of John Lawrence, the only man in his -delegation really capable of controlling the brothers. Lawrence was a -man like Gates. He would, Hugh knew, carry on the constructive work that -Gates had so splendidly started. Nu Delta was in the throes of one of -those changes so characteristic of fraternities.</p> -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="joints" id="joints" href="images/260.jpg"> - <img src="images/260-tb.jpg" alt="'ONE TURN, HUGH, AND WE'LL QUIT THESE JOINTS FOR GOOD!'" width="562" /></a> - <p>"one turn, hugh, and we'll quit these joints for good!"</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh spent his last college vacation at home, working on the farm, -reading, occasionally dancing at Corley Lake, and thinking a great deal. -He saw Janet Harton, now Janet Moffitt, several times at the lake and -wondered how he could ever have adored her. She was still childlike, -still dainty and pretty, but to Hugh she was merely a talking doll, and -he felt a little sorry for her burly, rather stupid husband who lumbered -about after her like a protecting watch-dog.</p> - -<p>He met plenty of pretty girls at the lake, but, as he said, he was "off -women for good." He was afraid of them; he had been severely burnt, and -while the fire still fascinated him, it frightened him, too. Women, he -was sure, were shallow creatures, dangerous to a man's peace of mind and -self-respect. They were all right to dance with and pet a bit; but that -was all, absolutely all.</p> - -<p>He thought a lot about girls that summer and even more about his life -after graduation from college. What was he going to do? Life stretched -ahead of him for one year like a smooth, flowered plain—and then the -abyss. He felt prepared to do nothing at all, and he was not swept by an -overpowering desire to do anything in particular. Writing had the -greatest appeal for him, but he doubted his ability. Teach? Perhaps. But -teaching meant graduate work. Well, he would see what the next year at -college would show. He was going to take a course in composition with -Professor Henley, and if Henley thought his gifts warranted it, he would -ask his father for a year or two of graduate work at Harvard.</p> - -<p>College was pleasant that last year. It was pleasant to wear a blue -sweater with an orange S on it; it was pleasant, too, to wear a small -white hat that had a blue B on the crown, the insignia of the Boulé and -a sign that he was a person to be respected and obeyed; it was pleasant -to be spoken to by the professors as one who had reached something -approaching manhood; life generally was pleasant, not so exciting as the -three preceding years but fuller and richer. Early in the first term he -was elected to Helmer, an honor society that possessed a granite "tomb," -a small windowless building in which the members were supposed to -discuss questions of great importance and practice secret rites of -awe-inspiring wonder. As a matter of fact, the monthly meetings were -nothing but "bull fests," or as one cynical member put it, "We wear a -gold helmet on our sweaters and chew the fat once a month." True -enough, but that gold helmet glittered enticingly in the eyes of every -student who did not possess one.</p> - -<p>For the first time Hugh's studies meant more to him than the -undergraduate life. He had chosen his instructors carefully, having -learned from three years of experience that the instructor was far more -important than the title of the course. He had three classes in -literature, one in music—partly because it was a "snap" and partly -because he really wanted to know more about music—and his composition -course with Henley, to him the most important of the lot.</p> - -<p>He really studied, and at the end of the first term received three A's -and two B's, a very creditable record. What was more important than his -record, however, was the fact that he was really enjoying his work; he -was intellectually awakened and hungry for learning.</p> - -<p>Also, for the first time he really enjoyed the fraternity. Jack Lawrence -was proving an able president, and Nu Delta pledged a freshman -delegation of which Hugh was genuinely proud. There were plenty of men -in the chapter whom he did not like or toward whom he was indifferent, -but he had learned to ignore them and center his interest in those men -whom he found congenial.</p> - -<p>The first term was ideal, but the second became a maelstrom of doubt and -trouble in which he whirled madly around trying to find some philosophy -that would solve his difficulties.</p> - -<p>When Norry returned to college after the Christmas vacation, he told -Hugh that he had seen Cynthia. Naturally, Hugh was interested, and the -mere mention of Cynthia's name was still enough to quicken his pulse.</p> - -<p>"How did she look?" he asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Awful."</p> - -<p>"What! What's the matter? Is she sick?"</p> - -<p>Norry shook his head. "No, I don't think she is exactly sick," he said -gravely, "but something is the matter with her. You know, she has been -going an awful pace, tearing around like crazy. I told you that, I know, -when I came back in the fall. Well, she's kept it up, and I guess she's -about all in. I couldn't understand it. Cynthia's always run with a fast -bunch, but she's never had a bad name. She's beginning to get one now."</p> - -<p>"No!" Hugh was honestly troubled. "What's the matter, anyway? Didn't you -try to stop her?"</p> - -<p>Norry smiled. "Of course not. Can you imagine me stopping Cynthia from -doing anything she wanted to do? But I did have a talk with her. She got -hold of me one night at the country club and pulled me off in a corner. -She wanted to talk about you."</p> - -<p>"Me?" Hugh's heart was beginning to pound. "What did she say?"</p> - -<p>"She asked questions. She wanted to know everything about you. I guess -she asked me a thousand questions. She wanted to know how you looked, -how you were doing in your courses, where you were during vacation, if -you had a girl—oh, everything; and finally she asked if you ever talked -about her?"</p> - -<p>"What did you say?" Hugh demanded breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"I told her yes, of course. Gee, Hugh, I thought she was going to cry. -We talked some more, all about you. She's crazy about you, Hugh; I'm -sure of it. And I think that's why she's been hitting the high spots. I -felt sorry as the devil for her. Poor kid...."</p> - -<p>"Gee, that's tough; that's damn tough. Did she send me any message?"</p> - -<p>"No. I asked her if she wanted to send her love or anything, and she -said she guessed not. I think she's having an awful time, Hugh."</p> - -<p>That talk tore Hugh's peace of mind into quivering shreds. Cynthia was -with him every waking minute, and with her a sense of guilt that would -not down. He knew that if he wrote to her he might involve himself in a -very difficult situation, but the temptation was stronger than his -discretion. He wanted to know if Norry was right, and he knew that he -would never have an hour's real comfort until he found out. Cynthia had -told him that she was not in love with him; she had said definitely -that their attraction for each other was merely sexual. Had she lied to -him? Had she gone home in the middle of Prom, week because she thought -she ought to save him from herself? He couldn't decide, and he felt that -he had to know. If Cynthia was unhappy and he was the cause of her -unhappiness, he wanted, he assured himself, to "do the right thing," and -he had very vague notions indeed of what the right thing might be.</p> - -<p>Finally he wrote to her. The letter took him hours to write, but he -flattered himself that it was very discreet; it implied nothing and -demanded nothing.</p> - -<p class="blkquot"> - Dear Cynthia:<br /> - I had a talk with Norry Parker recently that has - troubled me a great deal. He said that you seemed both - unwell and unhappy, and he felt that I was in some way - responsible for your depression. Of course, we both know - how ingenuous and romantic Norry is; he can find tragedy - in a cut finger. I recognize that fact, but what he told - me has given me no end of worry just the same.<br /> - Won't you please write to me just what is wrong—if - anything really is and if I have anything to do with it. - I shall continue to worry until I get your letter.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 20em;'>Most sincerely,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>HUGH.</span></p> - -<p>Weeks went by and no answer came. Hugh's confusion increased. He -thought of writing her another letter, but pride and common sense -forbade. Then her letter came, and all of his props were kicked suddenly -from under him.</p> - -<p class="blkquot"> - Oh my dear, my dear [she wrote], I swore that I wouldn't - answer your letter—and here I am doing it. I've fought - and fought, and fought until I can't fight any longer; - I've held out as long as I can. Oh, Hugh my dearest, I - love you. I can't help it—I do, I do. I've tried so - hard not to—and when I found that I couldn't help it I - swore that I would never let you know—because I knew - that you didn't love me and that I am bad for you. I - thought I loved you enough to give you up—and I might - have succeeded if you hadn't written to me.<br /> - Oh, Hugh dearest, I nearly fainted when I saw your - letter. I hardly dared open it—I just looked and looked - at your beloved handwriting. I cried when I did read it. - I thought of the letters you used to write to me—and - this one was so different—so cold and impersonal. It - hurt me dreadfully.<br /> - I said that I wouldn't answer it—I swore that I - wouldn't. And then I read your old letters—I've kept - every one of them—and looked at your picture—and - to-night you just seemed to be here—I could see your - sweet smile and feel your dear arms around me—and Hugh, - my darling, I had to write—I <i>had</i> to.<br /> - My pride is all gone. I can't think any more. You are - all that matters. Oh, Hugh dearest, I love you so damned - hard.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>CYNTHIA.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>Two hours after the letter arrived it was followed by a telegram:</p> -<p class="blkquot"> -Don't pay any attention to my letter. I was crazy when I wrote it. -</p> - -<p>Hugh had sense enough to pay no attention to the telegram; he tossed it -into the fireplace and reread the letter. What could he do? What -<i>should</i> he do? He was torn by doubt and confusion. He looked at her -picture, and all his old longing for her returned. But he had learned to -distrust that longing. He had got along for a year without her; he had -almost ceased thinking of her when Norry brought her back to his mind. -He had to answer her letter. What could he say? He paced the floor of -his room, ran his hands through his hair, pounded his forehead; but no -solution came. He took a long walk into the country and came back more -confused than ever. He was flattered by her letter, moved by it; he -tried to persuade himself that he loved her as she loved him—and he -could not do it. His passion for her was no longer overpowering, and no -amount of thinking could make it so. In the end he temporized. His -letter was brief.</p> -<p class="blkquot"> - Dear Cynthia:<br /> - There is no need, I guess, to tell you that your letter - swept me clean off my feet. I am still dizzy with - confusion. I don't know what to say, and I have decided - that it is best for me not to say anything until I know - my own mind. I couldn't be fair either to you or myself - otherwise. And I want to be fair; I must be.<br /> - Give me time, please. It is because I care so much for - you that I ask it. Don't worry if you don't hear from me - for weeks. My silence won't mean that I have forgotten - you; it will mean that I am thinking of you.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 20em;'>Sincerely,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>HUGH.</span></p> - -<p>Her answer came promptly:</p> - -<p class="blkquot"> - Hugh, my dear—<br /> - I was a fish to write that letter—and I know that I'll - never forgive myself. But I couldn't help it—I just - couldn't help it. I am glad that you are keeping your - head because I've lost mine entirely. Take all the time - you like. Do you hate me for losing my pride? I do.<br /> -<span style='margin-left: 20em;'>Your stupid</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 25em;'>CYNTHIA.</span></p> - -<p>Weeks went by, and Hugh found no solution. He damned college with all -his heart and soul. What good had it done him anyway? Here he was with a -serious problem on his hands and he couldn't solve it any better than he -could have when he was a freshman. Four years of studying and lectures -and examinations, and the first time he bucked up against a bit of life -he was licked.</p> - -<p>Eventually he wrote to her and told her that he was fonder of her than -he was of any girl that he had ever known but that he didn't know -whether he was in love with her or not. "I have learned to distrust my -own emotions," he wrote, "and my own decisions. The more I think the -more bewildered I become. I am afraid to ask you to marry me for fear -that I'll wreck both our lives, and I'm afraid not to ask you for the -same reason. Do you think that time will solve our problem? I don't -know. I don't know anything."</p> - -<p>She replied that she was willing to wait just so long as they continued -to correspond; she said that she could no longer bear not to hear from -him. So they wrote to each other, and the tangle of their relations -became more hopelessly knotted. Cynthia never sent another letter so -unguarded as her first, but she made no pretense of hiding her love.</p> - -<p>As Hugh sank deeper and deeper into the bog of confusion and distress, -his contempt for his college "education" increased. One night in May he -expressed that contempt to a small group of seniors.</p> - -<p>"College is bunk," said Hugh sternly, "pure bunk. They tell us that we -learn to think. Rot! I haven't learned to think; a child can solve a -simple human problem as well as I can. College has played hell with me. -I came here four years ago a darned nice kid, if I do say so myself. I -was chock-full of ideals and illusions. Well, college has smashed most -of those ideals and knocked the illusions plumb to hell. I thought, for -example, that all college men were gentlemen; well, most of them aren't. -I thought that all of them were intelligent and hard students."</p> - -<p>The group broke into loud laughter. "Me, too," said George Winsor when -the noise had abated. "I thought that I was coming to a regular -educational heaven, halls of learning and all that sort of thing. Why, -it's a farce. Here I am sporting a Phi Bete key, an honor student if you -please, and all that I really know as a result of my college 'education' -is the fine points of football and how to play poker. I don't really -know one damn thing about anything."</p> - -<p>The other men were Jack Lawrence and Pudge Jamieson. Jack was an earnest -chap, serious and hard working but without a trace of brilliance. He, -too, wore a Phi Beta Kappa key, and so did Pudge. Hugh was the only one -of the group who had not won that honor; the fact that he was the only -one who had won a letter was hardly, he felt, complete justification. -His legs no longer seemed more important than his brains; in fact, when -he had sprained a tendon and been forced to drop track, he had been -genuinely pleased.</p> - -<p>Pudge was quite as plump as he had been as a freshman and quite as -jovial, but he did not tell so many smutty stories. He still persisted -in crossing his knees in spite of the difficulties involved. When -Winsor finished speaking, Pudge forced his legs into his favorite -position for them and then twinkled at Winsor through his glasses.</p> - -<p>"Right you are, George," he said in his quick way. "I wear a Phi Bete -key, too. We both belong to the world's greatest intellectual -fraternity, but what in hell do we know? We've all majored in English -except Jack, and I'll bet any one of us can give the others an exam -offhand that they can't pass. I'm going to law school. I hope to God -that I learn something there. I certainly don't feel that I know -anything now as a result of my four years of 'higher education.'"</p> - -<p>"Well, if you fellows feel that way," said Hugh mournfully, "how do you -suppose I feel? I made my first really good record last term, and that -wasn't any world beater. I've learned how to gamble and smoke and drink -and pet in college, but that's about all that I have learned. I'm not as -fine as I was when I came here. I've been coarsened and cheapened; all -of us have. I take things for granted that shocked me horribly once. I -know that they ought to shock me now, but they don't. I've made some -friends and I've had a wonderful time, but I certainly don't feel that I -have got any other value out of college."</p> - -<p>Winsor could not sit still and talk. He filled his pipe viciously, -lighted it, and then jumped up and leaned against the mantel. "I admit -everything that's been said, but I don't believe that it is altogether -our fault." He was intensely in earnest, and so were his listeners. -"Look at the faculty. When I came here I thought that they were all wise -men because they were On the faculty. Well, I've found out otherwise. -Some of them know a lot and can't teach, a few of them know a lot and -can teach, some of them know a little and can't teach, and some of them -don't know anything and can't explain c-a-t. Why, look at Kempton. That -freshman, Larson, showed me a theme the other day that Kempton had -corrected. It was full of errors that weren't marked, and it was nothing -in the world but drip. Even Larson knew that, but he's the foxy kid; he -wrote the theme about Kempton. All right—Kempton gives him a B and -tells him that it is very amusing. Hell of a lot Larson's learning. Look -at Kane in math. I had him when I was a freshman."</p> - -<p>"Me, too," Hugh chimed in.</p> - -<p>"'Nough said, then. Math's dry enough, God knows, but Kane makes it -dryer. He's a born desiccator. He could make 'Hamlet' as dry as -calculus."</p> - -<p>"Right-o," said Pudge. "But Mitchell could make calculus as exciting as -'Hamlet.' It's fifty-fifty."</p> - -<p>"And they fired Mitchell." Jack Lawrence spoke for the first time. "I -have that straight. The administration seems afraid of a man that can -teach. They've made Buchanan a full professor, and there isn't a man in -college who can tell what he's talking about. He's written a couple of -books that nobody reads, and that makes him a scholar. I was forced to -take three courses with him. They were agony, and he never taught me a -damn thing."</p> - -<p>"Most of them don't teach you a damn thing," Winsor exclaimed, tapping -his pipe on the mantel. "They either tell you something that you can -find more easily in a book, or just confuse you with a lot of ponderous -lectures that put you to sleep or drive you crazy if you try to -understand them."</p> - -<p>"There are just about a dozen men in this college worth listening to," -Hugh put in, "and I've got three of them this term. I'm learning more -than I did in my whole three first years. Let's be fair, though. We're -blaming it all on the profs, and you know damn well that we don't study. -All we try to do is to get by—I don't mean you Phi Betes; I mean all -the rest of us—and if we can put anything over on the profs we are -tickled pink. We're like a lot of little kids in grammar-school. Just -look at the cheating that goes on, the copying of themes, and the -cribbing. It's rotten!"</p> - -<p>Winsor started to protest, but Hugh rushed on. "Oh, I know that the -majority of the fellows don't consciously cheat; I'm talking about the -copying of math problems and the using of trots and the paraphrasing of -'Literary Digest' articles for themes and all that sort of thing. If -more than half of the fellows don't do that sort of thing some time or -other in college, I'll eat my hat. And we all know darned well that we -aren't supposed to do it, but the majority of fellows cheat in some way -or other before they graduate!</p> - -<p>"We aren't so much. Do you remember, George, what Jimmie Henley said to -us when we were sophomores in English Thirty-six? He laid us out cold, -said that we were as standardized as Fords and that we were ashamed of -anything intellectual. Well, he was right. Do you remember how he ended -by saying that if we were the cream of the earth, he felt sorry for the -skimmed milk—or something like that?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, <i>I</i> remember," Winsor replied, running his fingers through his -rusty hair. "He certainly pulled a heavy line that day. He was right, -too."</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you what," exclaimed Pudge suddenly, so suddenly that his -crossed legs parted company and his foot fell heavily to the floor. -"Let's put it up to Henley in class to-morrow. Let's ask him straight -out if he thinks college is worth while."</p> - -<p>"He'll hedge," objected Lawrence. "All the profs do if you ask them -anything like that." Winsor laughed. "You don't know Jimmie Henley. He -won't hedge. You've never had a class with him, but Hugh and Pudge and -I are all in English Fifty-three, and we'll put it up to him. He'll tell -us what he thinks all right, and I hope to God that he says it is worth -while. I'd like to have somebody convince me that I've got something out -of these four years beside lower ideals. Hell, sometimes I think that -we're all damn fools. We worship athletics—no offense, Hugh—above -everything else; we gamble and drink and talk like bums; and about every -so often some fellow has to go home because a lovely lady has left him -with bitter, bitter memories. I'm with Henley. If we're the cream of the -earth—well, thank the Lord, we're not."</p> - -<p>"Who is," Lawrence asked earnestly.</p> - -<p>"God knows."</p> -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><a name="animosity" id="animosity" href="images/292.jpg"> - <img src="images/292-tb.jpg" alt="CARL FORGETS HIS ANIMOSITY IN HONEST ADMIRATION FOR HUGH." - width="566" /></a> - <p>carl forgets his animosity in honest admiration for hugh.</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> -<br /> - -<p>English 53 had only a dozen men in it; so Henley conducted the course in -a very informal fashion. The men felt free to bring up for discussion -any topic that interested them.</p> - -<p>Nobody was surprised, therefore, when George Winsor asked Henley to -express his opinion of the value of a college education. He reminded -Henley of what he had said two years before, and rapidly gave a resumé -of the discussion that resulted in the question he was asking. "We'd -like to know, too," he concluded, grinning wickedly, "just whom you -consider the cream of the earth. You remember you said that if we were -you felt sorry for the skimmed milk."</p> - -<p>Henley leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Yes," he said, "I remember -saying that. I didn't think, though, that you would remember it for two -years. You seem to remember most of what I said. I am truly astonished." -He grinned back at Winsor. "The swine seem to have eaten the pearls."</p> - -<p>The class laughed, but Winsor was not one to refuse the gambit. "They -were very indigestible," he said quickly.</p> - -<p>"Good!" Henley exclaimed. "I wanted them to give you a belly-ache, and I -am delighted that you still suffer."</p> - -<p>"We do," Pudge Jamieson admitted, "but we'd like to have a little mercy -shown to us now. We've spent four years here, and while we've enjoyed -them, we've just about made up our minds that they have been all in all -wasted years."</p> - -<p>"No." Henley was decisive. His playful manner entirely disappeared. "No, -not wasted. You have enjoyed them, you say. Splendid justification. You -will continue to enjoy them as the years grow between you and your -college days. All men are sentimental about college, and in that -sentimentality there is continuous pleasure."</p> - -<p>"Your doubt delights me. Your feeling that you haven't learned anything -delights me, too. It proves that you have learned a great deal. It is -only the ignoramus who thinks he is wise; the wise man knows that he is -an ignoramus. That's a platitude, but it is none the less true. I have -cold comfort for you: the more you learn, the less confident you will be -of your own learning, the more utterly ignorant you will feel. I have -never known so much as, the day I graduated from high school. I held my -diploma and the knowledge of the ages in my hand. I had never heard of -Socrates, but I would have challenged him to a debate without the -slightest fear."</p> - -<p>"Since then I have grown more humble, so humble that there are times -when I am ashamed to come into the class-room. What right have I to -teach anybody anything? I mean that quite sincerely. Then I remember -that, ignorant as I am, the undergraduates are more ignorant. I take -heart and mount the rostrum ready to speak with the authority of a -pundit."</p> - -<p>He realized that he was sliding off on a tangent and paused to find a -new attack. Pudge Jamieson helped him.</p> - -<p>"I suppose that's all true," he said, "but it doesn't explain why -college is really worth while. The fact remains that most of us don't -learn anything, that we are coarsened by college, and that we—well, we -worship false gods."</p> - -<p>Henley nodded in agreement. "It would be hard to deny your assertions," -he acknowledged, "and I don't think that I am going to try to deny them. -Of course, men grow coarser while they are in college, but that doesn't -mean that they wouldn't grow coarser if they weren't in college. It -isn't college that coarsens a man and destroys his illusions; it is -life. Don't think that you can grow to manhood and retain your pretty -dreams. You have become disillusioned about college. In the next few -years you will suffer further disillusionment. That is the price of -living."</p> - -<p>"Every intelligent man with ideals eventually becomes a cynic. It is -inevitable. He has standards, and, granted that he is intelligent, he -cannot fail to see how far mankind falls below those standards. The -result is cynicism, and if he is truly intelligent, the cynicism is -kindly. Having learned that man is frail, he expects little of him; -therefore, if he judges at all, his judgment is tempered either with -humor or with mercy."</p> - -<p>The dozen boys were sprawled lazily in their chairs, their feet resting -on the rungs of the chairs before them, but their eyes were fastened -keenly on Henley. All that he was saying was of the greatest importance -to them. They found comfort in his words, but the comfort raised new -doubts, new problems.</p> - -<p>"How does that affect college?" Winsor asked.</p> - -<p>"It affects it very decidedly," Henley replied. "You haven't become true -cynics yet; you expect too much of college. You forget that the men who -run the college and the men who attend it are at best human beings, and -that means that very much cannot be expected of them. You do worship -false gods. I find hope in the fact that you recognize the stuff of -which your gods are made. I have great hopes for the American colleges, -not because I have any reason to believe that the faculties will become -wiser or that the administrations will lead the students to true gods; -not at all, but I do think that the students themselves will find a way. -They have already abandoned Mammon; at least, the most intelligent have, -and I begin to see signs of less adoration for athletics. Athletics, of -course, have their place, and some of the students are beginning to find -that place. Certainly the alumni haven't, and I don't believe that the -administrative officers have, either. Just so long as athletes advertise -the college, the administrations will coddle them. The undergraduates, -however, show signs of frowning on professionalism, and the stupid -athlete is rapidly losing his prestige. An athlete has to show something -more than brawn to be a hero among his fellows nowadays."</p> - -<p>He paused, and Pudge spoke up. "Perhaps you are right," he said, "but I -doubt it. Athletics are certainly far more important to us than anything -else, and the captain of the football team is always the biggest man in -college. But I don't care particularly about that. What I want to know -is how the colleges justify their existence. I don't see that you have -proved that they do."</p> - -<p>"No, I haven't," Henley admitted, "and I don't know that I can prove it. -Of course, the colleges aren't perfect, not by a long way, but as human -institutions go, I think they justify their existence. The four years -spent at college by an intelligent boy—please notice that I say -intelligent—are well spent indeed. They are gloriously worth while. You -said that you have had a wonderful time. Not so wonderful as you think. -It is a strange feeling that we have about our college years. We all -believe that they are years of unalloyed happiness, and the further we -leave them behind the more perfect they seem. As a matter of fact, few -undergraduates are truly happy. They are going through a period of storm -and stress; they are torn by <i>Weltschmerz</i>. Show me a nineteen-year-old -boy who is perfectly happy and you show me an idiot. I rarely get a -cheerful theme except from freshmen. Nine tenths of them are expressions -of deep concern and distress. A boy's college years are the years when -he finds out that life isn't what he thought it, and the finding out is -a painful experience. He discovers that he and his fellows are made of -very brittle clay: usually he loathes himself; often he loathes his -fellows.</p> - -<p>"College isn't the Elysium that it is painted in stories and novels, but -I feel sorry for any intelligent man who didn't have the opportunity to -go to college. There is something beautiful about one's college days, -something that one treasures all his life. As we grow older, we forget -the hours of storm and stress, the class-room humiliations, the terror -of examinations, the awful periods of doubt of God and man—we forget -everything but athletic victories, long discussions with friends, campus -sings, fraternity life, moonlight on the campus, and everything that is -romantic. The sting dies, and the beauty remains.</p> - -<p>"Why do men give large sums of money to their colleges when asked? -Because they want to help society? Not at all. The average man doesn't -even take that into consideration. He gives the money because he loves -his alma mater, because he has beautiful and tender memories of her. No, -colleges are far from perfect, tragically far from it, but any -institution that commands loyalty and love as colleges do cannot be -wholly imperfect. There is a virtue in a college that uninspired -administrative officers, stupid professors, and alumni with false ideals -cannot kill. At times I tremble for Sanford College; there are times -when I swear at it, but I never cease to love it."</p> - -<p>"If you feel that way about college, why did you say those things to us -two years ago?" Hugh asked. "Because they were true, all true. I was -talking about the undergraduates then, and I could have said much more -cutting things and still been on the safe side of the truth. There is, -however, another side, and that is what I am trying to give you -now—rather incoherently, I know."</p> - -<p>Hugh thought of Cynthia. "I suppose all that you say is true," he -admitted dubiously, "but I can't feel that college does what it should -for us. We are told that we are taught to think, but the minute we bump -up against a problem in living we are stumped just as badly as we were -when we are freshmen."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, not at all. You solve problems every day that would have -stumped you hopelessly as a freshman. You think better than you did four -years ago, but no college, however perfect, can teach you all the -solutions of life. There are no nostrums or cure-alls that the colleges -can give for all the ills and sicknesses of life. You, I am afraid, will -have to doctor those yourself."</p> - -<p>"I see." Hugh didn't altogether see. Both college and life seemed more -complicated than he had thought them. "I am curious to know," he added, -"just whom you consider the cream of the earth. That expression has -stuck in my mind. I don't know why—but it has."</p> - -<p>Henley smiled. "Probably because it is such a very badly mixed metaphor. -Well, I consider the college man the cream of the earth."</p> - -<p>"What?" four of the men exclaimed, and all of them sat suddenly upright.</p> - -<p>"Yes—but let me explain. If I remember rightly, I said that if you were -the cream of the earth, I hoped that God would pity the skimmed milk. -Well, everything taken into consideration, I do think that you are the -cream of the earth; and I have no hope for the skimmed milk. Perhaps it -isn't wise for me to give public expression to my pessimism, but you -ought to be old enough to stand it."</p> - -<p>"The average college graduate is a pretty poor specimen, but all in all -he is just about the best we have. Please remember that I am talking in -averages. I know perfectly well that a great many brilliant men do not -come to college and that a great many stupid men do come, but the -colleges get a very fair percentage of the intelligent ones and a -comparatively small percentage of the stupid ones. In other words, to -play with my mixed metaphor a bit, the cream is very thin in places and -the skimmed milk has some very thick clots of cream, but in the end the -cream remains the cream and the milk the milk. Everything taken into -consideration, we get in the colleges the young men with the highest -ideals, the loftiest purpose."</p> - -<p>"You want to tell me that those ideals are low and the purpose -materialistic and selfish. I know it, but the average college graduate, -I repeat, has loftier ideals and is less materialistic than the average -man who has not gone to college. I wish that I could believe that the -college gives him those ideals. I can't, however. The colleges draw the -best that society has to offer; therefore, they graduate the best."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know," a student interrupted. "How about Edison and Ford -and—"</p> - -<p>"And Shakspere and Sophocles," Henley concluded for him. "Edison is an -inventive genius, and Ford is a business genius. Genius hasn't anything -to do with schools. The colleges, however, could have made both Ford and -Edison bigger men, though they couldn't have made them lesser geniuses."</p> - -<p>"No, we must not take the exceptional man as a standard; we've got to -talk about the average. The hand of the Potter shook badly when he made -man. It was at best a careless job. But He made some better than others, -some a little less weak, a little more intelligent. All in all, those -are the men that come to college. The colleges ought to do a thousand -times more for those men than they do do; but, after all, they do -something for them, and I am optimistic enough to believe that the time -will come when they will do more."</p> - -<p>"Some day, perhaps," he concluded very seriously, "our administrative -officers will be true educators; some day perhaps our faculties will be -wise men really fitted to teach; some day perhaps our students will be -really students, eager to learn, honest searchers after beauty and -truth. That day will be the millennium. I look for the undergraduates to -lead us to it."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> -<br /> - -<p>The college year swept rapidly to its close, so rapidly to the seniors -that the days seemed to melt in their grasp. The twentieth of June would -bring them their diplomas and the end of their college life. They felt a -bit chesty at the thought of that B. S. or A. B., but a little sentimental -at the thought of leaving "old Sanford."</p> - -<p>Suddenly everything about the college became infinitely precious—every -tradition; every building, no matter how ugly; even the professors, not -just the deserving few—all of them.</p> - -<p>Hugh took to wandering about the campus, sometimes alone, thinking of -Cynthia, sometimes with a favored crony such as George Winsor or Pudge -Jamieson. He didn't see very much of Norry the last month or two of -college. He was just as fond of him as ever, but Norry was only a -junior; he would not understand how a fellow felt about Sanford when he -was on the verge of leaving her. But George and Pudge did understand. -The boys didn't say much as they wandered around the buildings, merely -strolled along, occasionally pausing to laugh over some experience that -had happened to one of them in the building they were passing.</p> - -<p>Hugh could never pass Surrey Hall without feeling something deeper than -sentimentality. He always thought of Carl Peters, from whom he had not -heard for more than a year. He understood Carl better now, his desire -to be a gentleman and his despair at ever succeeding. Surrey Hall held -drama for Hugh, not all of it pleasant, but he had a deeper affection -for the ivy-covered dormitory then he would ever have for the Nu Delta -House. He wondered what had become of Morse, the homesick freshman. -Poor Morse.... And the bull sessions he had sat in in old Surrey. He -had learned a lot from them, a whole lot....</p> - -<p>The chapel where he had slept and surreptitiously eaten doughnuts and -read "The Sanford News" suddenly became a holy building, the building -that housed the soul of Sanford.... He knew that he was sentimental, that -he was investing buildings with a greater significance than they had in -their own right, but he continued to dream over the last four years and -to find a melancholy beauty in his own sentimentality. If it hadn't -been for Cynthia, he would have been perfectly happy.</p> - -<p>Soon the examinations were over, and the underclassmen began to -depart. Good-by to all his friends who were not seniors. Good-by to -Norry Parker. "Thanks for the congratulations, old man. Sorry I can't -visit you this summer. Can't you spend a month with me on the farm...?" -Good-by to his fraternity brothers except the few left in his own -delegation. "Good-by, old man, good-by.... Sure, I'll see you next year -at the reunion." Good-by.... Good-by....</p> - -<p>Sad, this business of saying good-by, damn sad. Gee, how a fellow would -miss all the good old eggs he had walked with and drunk with and bulled -with these past years. Good eggs, all of them—damn good eggs.... God! -a fellow couldn't appreciate college until he was about to leave it. -Oh, for a chance to live those four years over again. "Would I live -them differently? I'll say I would."</p> - -<p>Good-by, boyhood.... Commencement was coming. Hugh hadn't thought -before of what that word meant. Commencement! The beginning. What was -he going to do with this commencement of his into life? Old Pudge was -going to law school and so was Jack Lawrence. George Winsor was going -to medical school. But what was he going to do? He felt so pathetically -unprepared. And then there was Cynthia.... What was he going to do -about her? She rarely left his mind. How could he tackle life when he -couldn't solve the problem she presented? It was like trying to run a -hundred against fast men when a fellow had only begun to train.</p> - -<p>Henley had advised him to take a year or so at Harvard if his father -proved willing, and his father was more than willing, even eager. He -guessed that he'd take at least a year in Cambridge. Perhaps he could -find himself in that year. Maybe he could learn to write. He hoped to -God he could.</p> - -<hr style='width: 45%;' /> - -<p>Just before commencement his relations with Cynthia came to a climax. -They had been constantly becoming more complicated. She was demanding -nothing of him, but her letters were tinged with despair. He felt at -last that he must see her. Then he would know whether he loved her or -not. A year before she had said that he didn't. How did she know? She -had said that all he felt for her was sex attraction. How did she know -that? Why, she had said that was all that she felt for him. And he had -heard plenty of fellows argue that love was nothing but sexual -attraction anyway, and that all the stuff the poets wrote was pure bunk. -Freud said something like that, he thought, and Freud knew a damn sight -more about it than the poets.</p> - -<p>Yet, the doubt remained. Whether love was merely sexual attraction or -not, he wanted something more than that; his every instinct demanded -something more. He had noticed another thing: the fellows that weren't -engaged said that love was only sexual attraction; those who were -engaged vehemently denied it, and Hugh knew that some of the engaged -men had led gay lives in college. He could not reach any decision; at -times he was sure that what he felt for Cynthia was love; at other times -he was sure that it wasn't.</p> - -<p>At last in desperation he telegraphed to her that he was coming to New -York and that she should meet him at Grand Central at three o'clock the -next day. He knew that he oughtn't to go. He would be able to stay in -New York only a little more than two hours because his father and mother -would arrive in Haydensville the day following, and he felt that he had -to be there to greet them. He damned himself for his impetuousness all -during the long trip, and a dozen times he wished he were back safe in -the Nu Delta house. What in hell would he say to Cynthia, anyway? What -would he do when he saw her? Kiss her? "I won't have a damned bit of -sense left if I do."</p> - -<p>She was waiting for him as he came through the gate. Quite without -thinking, he put down his bag and kissed her. Her touch had its old -power; his blood leaped. With a tremendous effort of will he controlled -himself. That afternoon was all-important; he must keep his head.</p> - -<p>"It's sweet of you to come," Cynthia whispered, clinging to him, "so -damned sweet."</p> - -<p>"It's damned good to see you," he replied gruffly. "Come on while I -check this bag. I've only got a little over two hours, Cynthia; I've -got to get the five-ten back. My folks will be in Haydensville to-morrow -morning, and I've got to get back to meet them."</p> - -<p>Her face clouded for an instant, but she tucked her arm gaily in his and -marched with him across the rotunda to the checking counter. When Hugh -had disposed of his bag, he suggested that they go to a little tea room -on Fifty-seventh Street. She agreed without argument. Once they were in -a taxi, she wanted to snuggle down into his arm, but she restrained -herself; she felt that she had to play fair.</p> - -<p>Hugh said nothing. He was trying to think, and his thoughts whirled -around in a mad, drunken dance. He believed that he would be married -before he took the train back, at least engaged, and what would all that -mean? Did he want to get married? God! he didn't know.</p> - -<p>When at last they were settled in a corner of the empty tea-room and had -given their order, they talked in an embarrassed fashion about their -recent letters, both of them carefully quiet and restrained. Finally -Hugh shoved his plate and cup aside and looked straight at her for the -first time. She was thin, much thinner than she had been a year ago, but -there was something sweeter about her, too; she seemed so quiet, so -gentle.</p> - -<p>"We aren't going to get anywhere this way, Cynthia," he said -desperately. "We're both evading. I haven't any sense left, but what I -say from now on I am going to say straight out. I swore on the train -that I wouldn't kiss you. I knew that I wouldn't be able to think if I -did—and I can't; all I know is that I want to kiss you again." He -looked at her sitting across the little table from him, so slender and -still—a different Cynthia but damnably desirable. "Cynthia," he added -hoarsely, "if you took my hand, you could lead me to hell."</p> - -<p>She in turn looked at him. He was much older than he had been a year -before. Then he had been a boy; now he seemed a man. He had not changed -particularly; he was as blond and young and clean as ever, but there was -something about his mouth and eyes, something more serious and more -stern, that made him seem years older.</p> - -<p>"I don't want to lead you to hell, honey," she replied softly. "I left -Prom last year so that I wouldn't do that. I told you then that I wasn't -good for you—but I'm different now."</p> - -<p>"I can see that. I don't know what it is, but you're different, awfully -different." He leaned forward suddenly. "Cynthia, shall we go over to -Jersey and get married? I understand that one can there right away. -We're both of age—"</p> - -<p>"Wait, Hugh; wait." Cynthia's hands were tightly clasped in her lap. -"Are you sure that you want to? I've been thinking a lot since I got -your telegram. Are you sure you love me?"</p> - -<p>He slumped back into his chair. "I don't know what love is," he -confessed miserably. "I can't find out." Cynthia's hands tightened in -her lap. "I've tried to think this business out, and I can't. I haven't -any right to ask you to marry me. I haven't any money, not a bit, and -I'm not prepared to do anything, either. As I wrote you, my folks want -me to go to Harvard next year." The mention of his poverty and of his -inability to support a wife brought him back to something approaching -normal again. "I suppose I'm just a kid, Cynthia," he added more -quietly, "but sometimes I feel a thousand years old. I do right now."</p> - -<p>"What were your plans for next year and after that until you saw me?" -Her eyes searched his.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I thought I'd go to Harvard a year or two and then try to write or -perhaps teach. Writing is slow business, I understand, and teaching -doesn't pay anything. I don't want to ask my father to support us, and I -won't let your folks. I lost my head when I suggested that we get -married. It would be foolish. I haven't the right."</p> - -<p>"No," she agreed slowly; "no, neither of us has the right. I thought -before you came if you asked me to marry you—I was sure somehow that -you would—I would run right off and do it, but now I know that I -won't." She continued to gaze at him, her eyes troubled and confused. -What made him seem so much older, so different?</p> - -<p>"Do you think we can ever forget Prom?" She waited for his reply. So -much depended on it.</p> - -<p>"Of course," he answered impatiently. "I've forgotten that already. We -were crazy kids, that's all—youngsters trying to act smart and wild."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" The ejaculation was soft, but it vibrated with pain. "You mean -that—that you wouldn't—well, you wouldn't get drunk like that again?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not, especially at a dance. I'm not a child any longer, -Cynthia. I have sense enough now not to forfeit my self-respect again. I -hope so, anyway. I haven't been drunk in the last year. A drunkard is a -beastly sight, rotten. If I have learned anything in college, it is that -a man has to respect himself, and I can't respect any one any longer who -deliberately reduces himself to a beast. I was a beast with you a year -ago. I treated you like a woman of the streets, and I abused Norry -Parker's hospitality shamefully. If I can help it, I'll never act like a -rotter again, I hate a prig, Cynthia, like the devil, but I hate a -rotter even more. I hope I can learn to be neither."</p> - -<p>As he spoke, Cynthia clenched her hands so tightly that the finger-nails -were bruising her tender palms, but her eyes remained dry and her lips -did not tremble. If he could have seen <i>her</i> on some parties this last -year....</p> - -<p>"You have changed a lot." Her words were barely audible. "You have -changed an awful lot."</p> - -<p>He smiled. "I hope so. There are times now when I hate myself, but I -never hate myself so much as when I think of Prom. I've learned a lot in -the last year, and I hope I've learned enough to treat a decent girl -decently. I have never apologized to you the way I think I ought to."</p> - -<p>"Don't!" she cried, her voice vibrant with pain. "Don't! I was more to -blame than you were. Let's not talk about that."</p> - -<p>"All right. I'm more than willing to forget it." He paused and then -continued very seriously, "I can't ask you to marry me now, -Cynthia—but—but are you willing to wait for me? It may take time, but -I promise I'll work hard."</p> - -<p>Cynthia's hands clenched convulsively. "No, Hugh honey," she whispered; -"I'll never marry you. I—I don't love you."</p> - -<p>"What?" he demanded, his senses swimming in hopeless confusion. "What?"</p> - -<p>She did not say that she knew that he did not love her; she did not tell -him how much his quixotic chivalry moved her. Nor did she tell him that -she knew only too well that she could lead him to hell, as he said, but -that that was the only place that she could lead him. These things she -felt positive of, but to mention them meant an argument—and an -argument would have been unendurable.</p> - -<p>"No," she repeated, "I don't love you. You see, you're so different from -what I remembered. You've grown up and you've changed. Why, Hugh, we're -strangers. I've realized that while you've been talking. We don't know -each other, not a bit. We only saw each other for a week summer before -last and for two days last spring. Now we're two altogether different -people; and we don't know each other at all."</p> - -<p>She prayed that he would deny her statements, that he would say they -knew each other by instinct—anything, so long as he did not agree.</p> - -<p>"I certainly don't know you the way you're talking now," he said almost -roughly, his pride hurt and his mind in a turmoil. "I know that we don't -know each other, but I never thought that you thought that mattered."</p> - -<p>Her hands clenched more tightly for an instant—and then lay open and -limp in her lap.</p> - -<p>Her lips were trembling; so she smiled. "I didn't think it mattered -until you asked me to marry you. Then I knew it did. It was game of you -to offer to take a chance, but I'm not that game. I couldn't marry a -strange man. I like that man a lot, but I don't love him—and you don't -want me to marry you if I don't love you, do you, Hugh?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not." He looked down in earnest thought and then said -softly, his eyes on the table, "I'm glad that you feel that way, -Cynthia." She bit her lip and trembled slightly. "I'll confess now that -I don't think that I love you, either. You sweep me clean off my feet -when I'm with you, but when I'm away from you I don't feel that way. I -think love must be something more than we feel for each other." He -looked up and smiled boyishly. "We'll go on being friends anyhow, won't -we?"</p> - -<p>Somehow she managed to smile back at him. "Of course," she whispered, -and then after a brief pause added: "We had better go now. Your train -will be leaving pretty soon."</p> - -<p>Hugh pulled out his watch. "By jingo, so it will."</p> - -<p>He called the waiter, paid his bill, and a few minutes later they turned -into Fifth Avenue. They had gone about a block down the avenue when Hugh -saw some one a few feet ahead of him who looked familiar. Could it be -Carl Peters? By the Lord Harry, it was!</p> - -<p>"Excuse me a minute, Cynthia, please. There's a fellow I know."</p> - -<p>He rushed forward and caught Carl by the arm. Carl cried, "Hugh, by -God!" and shook hands with him violently. "Hell, Hugh, I'm glad to see -you."</p> - -<p>Hugh turned to Cynthia, who was a pace behind them. He introduced Carl -and Cynthia to each other and then asked Carl why in the devil he -hadn't written.</p> - -<p>Carl switched his leg with his cane and grinned. "You know darn well, -Hugh, that I don't write letters, but I did mean to write to you; I -meant to often. I've been traveling. My mother and I have just got back -from a trip around the world. Where are you going now?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, golly," Hugh exclaimed, "I've got to hurry if I'm going to make -that train. Come on, Carl, with us to Grand Central. I've got to get the -five-ten back to Haydensville. My folks are coming up to-morrow for -commencement." Instantly he hated himself. Why did he have to mention -commencement? He might have remembered that it should have been Carl's -commencement, too.</p> - -<p>Carl, however, did not seem in the least disturbed, and he cheerfully -accompanied Hugh and Cynthia to the station. He looked at Cynthia and -had an idea.</p> - -<p>"Have you checked your bag?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Hugh replied.</p> - -<p>"Well, give me the check and I'll get it for you. I'll meet you at the -gate."</p> - -<p>Hugh surrendered the check and then proceeded to the gate with Cynthia. -He turned to her and asked gently, "May I kiss you, Cynthia?"</p> - -<p>For an instant she looked down and said nothing; then she turned her -face up to his. He kissed her tenderly, wondering why he felt no -passion, afraid that he would.</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Cynthia dear," he whispered.</p> - -<p>Her hands fluttered helplessly about his coat lapels and then fell to -her side. She managed a brave little smile. "Good-by—honey."</p> - -<p>Carl rushed up with the bag. "Gosh, Hugh, you've got to hurry; they're -closing the gate." He gripped his hand for a second. "Visit me at Bar -Harbor this summer if you can."</p> - -<p>"Sure. Good-by, old man. Good-by Cynthia."</p> - -<p>"Good-by—good-by."</p> - -<p>Hugh slipped through the gate and, turned to wave at Carl and Cynthia. -They waved back, and then he ran for the train.</p> - -<p>On the long trip to Haydensville Hugh relaxed. Now that the strain was -over, he felt suddenly weak, but it was sweet weakness. He could -graduate in peace now. The visit to New York had been worth while. And -what do you know, bumping into old Carl like that I Cynthia and he were -friends, too, the best friends in the world, but she no longer wanted to -marry him. That was fine.... He remembered the picture she and Carl had -made standing on the other side of the gate from him. "What a peach of a -pair. Golly, wouldn't it be funny if they hit it off...."</p> - -<p>He thought over every word that he and Cynthia had said. She certainly -had been square all right. Not many like her, but "by heaven, I knew -down in my heart all the time that I didn't want to get married or even -engaged. It would have played hell with everything."</p> - - - -<p> </p> -<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> -<br /> - -<p>The next morning Hugh's mother and father arrived in the automobile. He -was to drive them back to Merrytown the day after commencement. At last -he stood in the doorway of the Nu Delta house and welcomed his father, -but he had forgotten all about that youthful dream. He was merely aware -that he was enormously glad to see the "folks" and that his father -seemed to be withering into an old man.</p> - -<p>As the under-classmen departed, the alumni began to arrive. The "five -year" classes dressed in extraordinary outfits—Indians, Turks, and men -in prison garb roamed the campus. There were youngsters just a year out -of college, still looking like undergraduates, still full of college -talk. The alumni ranged all the way from these one-year men to the -fifty-year men, twelve old men who had come back to Sanford fifty years -after their graduation, and two of them had come all the way across the -continent. There had been only fifty men originally in that class; and -twelve of them were back.</p> - -<p>What brought them back? Hugh wondered. He thought he knew, but he -couldn't have given a reason. He watched those old men wandering slowly -around the campus, one of them with his grandson who was graduating this -year, and he was awed by their age and their devotion to their alma -mater. Yes, Henley had been right. Sanford was far from perfect, far -from it—a child could see that—but there was something in the college -that gripped one's heart. What faults that old college had; but how one -loved her!</p> - -<p>Thousands of Japanese lanterns had been strung around the campus; an -electric fountain sparkled and splashed its many-colored waters; a band -seemed to be playing every hour of the day and night from the band-stand -in front of the Union. It was a gay scene, and everybody seemed superbly -happy except, possibly, the seniors. They pretended to be happy, but all -of them were a little sad, a little frightened. College had been very -beautiful—and the "world outside," what was it? What did it have in -store for them?</p> - -<p>There were mothers and fathers there to see their sons receive their -degrees, there were the wives and children of the alumni, there were -sisters and fianées of the seniors. Nearly two thousand people; and at -least half of the alumni drunk most of the time. Very drunk, many of -them, and very foolish, but nobody minded. Somehow every one seemed to -realize that in a few brief days they were trying to recapture a -youthful thrill that had gone forever. Some of the drunken ones seemed -very silly, some of them seemed almost offensive; all of them were -pathetic.</p> - -<p>They had come back to Sanford where they had once been so young and -exuberant, so tireless in pleasure, so in love with living; and they -were trying to pour all that youthful zest into themselves again out of -a bottle bought from a bootlegger. Were they having a good time? Who -knows? Probably not. A bald-headed man does not particularly enjoy -looking at a picture taken in his hirsute youth; and yet there is a -certain whimsical pleasure in the memories the picture brings.</p> - -<p>For three days there was much gaiety, much singing of class songs, -constant parading, dances, speech-making, class circuses, and endless -shaking of hands and exchanging of reminiscences. The seniors moved -through all the excitement quietly, keeping close to their relatives and -friends. Graduation wasn't so thrilling as they had expected it to be; -it was more sad. The alumni seemed to be having a good time; they were -ridiculously boyish: only the seniors were grave, strangely and -unnaturally dignified.</p> - -<p>Most of the alumni left the night before the graduation exercises. The -parents and fiancées remained. They stood in the middle of the campus -and watched the seniors, clad in caps and gowns, line up before the -Union at the orders of the class marshal.</p> - -<p>Finally, the procession, the grand marshal, a professor, in the lead -with a wand in his hand, then President Culver and the governor of the -State, then the men who were to receive honorary degrees—a writer, a -college president, a philanthropist, a professor, and three -politicians—then the faculty in academic robes, their many-colored -hoods brilliant against their black gowns. And last the seniors, a long -line of them marching in twos headed by their marshal.</p> - -<p>The visitors streamed after them into the chapel. The seniors sat in -their customary seats, the faculty and the men who were to receive -honorary degrees on a platform that had been built at the altar. After -they were seated, everything became a blur to Hugh. He hardly knew what -was happening. He saw his father and mother sitting in the transept. He -thought his mother was crying. He hoped not.... Some one prayed -stupidly. There was a hymn.... What was it Cynthia had said? Oh, yes: "I -can't marry a stranger." Well, they weren't exactly strangers.... He was -darn glad he had gone to New York.... The president seemed to be saying -over and over again, "By the power invested in me ..." and every time -that he said it, Professor Blake would slip the loop of a colored hood -over the head of a writer or a politician—and then it was happening all -over again.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the class marshal motioned to the seniors to rise. They put on -their mortar-boards. The president said once more, "By the power -invested in me...." The seniors filed by the president, and the grand -marshal handed each of them a roll of parchment tied with blue and -orange ribbons. Hugh felt a strange thrill as he took his. He was -graduated; he was a bachelor of science.... Back again to their seats. -Some one was pronouncing benediction.... Music from the organ—marching -out of the chapel, the surge of friends—his father shaking his hand, -his mother's arms around his neck; she <i>was</i> crying....</p> - -<p>Graduation was over, and, with it Hugh's college days. Many of the -seniors left at once. Hugh would have liked to go, too, but his father -wanted to stay one more day in Haydensville. Besides, there was a final -senior dance that night, and he thought that Hugh ought to attend it.</p> - -<p>Hugh did go to the dance, but somehow it brought him no pleasure. -Although it was immensely decorous, it reminded him of Cynthia. He -thought of her tenderly. The best little girl he'd ever met.... He -danced on, religiously steering around the sisters and fiancées of his -friends, but he could not enjoy the dance. Shortly after eleven he -slipped out of the gymnasium and made one last tour of the campus.</p> - -<p>It was a moonlight night, and the campus was mysterious with shadows. -The elms shook their leaves whisperingly; the tower of the chapel looked -like magic tracery in the moonlight. He paused before Surrey Hall, now -dark and empty. Good old Carl.... Carl and Cynthia? He wondered.... -Pudge had roomed there, too. He passed on. Keller Hall, Cynthia and -Norry.... "God, what a beast I was that night. How white Norry was—and -Cynthia, too," Cynthia again. She'd always be a part of Sanford to him. -On down to the lake to watch the silver path of the moonlight and the -heavy reflections near the shore. Swimming, canoeing, skating—he and -Cynthia in the woods beyond.... On back to the campus, around the -buildings, every one of them filled with memories. Four years—four -beautiful, wonderful years.... Good old Sanford....</p> - -<p>Midnight struck. Some one turned a switch somewhere. The Japanese -lanterns suddenly lost their colors and faded to gray balloons in the -moonlight. Some men were singing on the Union steps. It was a few -seniors, Hugh knew; they had been singing for an hour.</p> - -<p>He stood in the center of the campus and listened, his eyes full of -tears. Earnestly, religiously, the men sang, their voices rich with -emotion:</p> - - -<span style='margin-left: 12em;'>"Sanford, Sanford, mother of men,</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Love us, guard us, hold us true.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Let thy arms enfold us;</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Let thy truth uphold us.</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Queen of colleges, mother of men—</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Alma mater—Sanford—hail!</span><br /> -<span style='margin-left: 12.3em;'>Alma-mater—Hail!—Hail!"</span><br /> -<br /> - -<p>Hugh walked slowly across the campus toward the Nu Delta house. He was -both happy and sad—happy because the great adventure was before him -with all its mystery, sad because he was leaving something beautiful -behind....</p> - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plastic Age, by Percy Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - -***** This file should be named 16532-h.htm or 16532-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/3/16532/ - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Plastic Age - -Author: Percy Marks - -Release Date: August 15, 2005 [EBook #16532] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - - - - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -THE PLASTIC AGE - -BY - -PERCY MARKS - -ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES -FROM THE PHOTOPLAY -A PREFERRED PICTURE - - -GROSSET & DUNLAP -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - -[Illustration: "SHE'S _MY_ GIRL! HANDS OFF!"] - -Made in the United States of America - -1924 -THE CENTURY Co. -PRINTED IN U. S. A. - - -To -MY MOTHER - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - "SHE'S _MY_ GIRL! HANDS OFF!" - "LOOK! FLANNELS FOR MAMMA'S BOY!" - "COME ON--I KNOW WHERE THERE'S LIQUID REFRESHMENT!" - "THAT'S CYNTHIA DAY--A REAL HOTSY-TOTSY!" - "DANCE, SALOME!" - HUGH'S POPULARITY IS ESTABLISHED AFTER THE FIRST ATHLETIC TRY-OUTS. - "ONE TURN, HUGH, AND WE'LL QUIT THESE JOINTS FOR GOOD!" - CARL FORGETS HIS ANIMOSITY IN HONEST ADMIRATION FOR HUGH. - - - - -THE PLASTIC AGE - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -When an American sets out to found a college, he hunts first for a hill. -John Harvard was an Englishman and indifferent to high places. The -result is that Harvard has become a university of vast proportions and -no color. Yale flounders about among the New Haven shops, trying to rise -above them. The Harkness Memorial tower is successful; otherwise the -university smells of trade. If Yale had been built on a hill, it would -probably be far less important and much more interesting. - -Hezekiah Sanford was wise; he found first his hill and then founded his -college, believing probably that any one ambitious enough to climb the -hill was a man fit to wrestle with learning and, if need be, with Satan -himself. Satan was ever before Hezekiah, and he fought him valiantly, -exorcising him every morning in chapel and every evening at prayers. The -first students of Sanford College learned Latin and Greek and to fear -the devil. There are some who declare that their successors learn less. - -Hezekiah built Sanford Hall, a fine Georgian building, performed the -duties of trustees, president, dean, and faculty for thirty years, and -then passed to his reward, leaving three thousand acres, his library of -five hundred books, mostly sermons, Sanford Hall, and a charter that -opened the gates of Sanford to all men so that they might "find the true -light of God and the glory of Jesus in the halls of this most liberal -college." - -More than a century had passed since Hezekiah was laid to rest in -Haydensville's cemetery. The college had grown miraculously and changed -even more miraculously. Only the hill and its beautiful surroundings -remained the same. Indian Lake, on the south of the campus, still -sparkled in the sunlight; on the east the woods were as virgin as they -had been a hundred and fifty years before. Haydensville, still only a -village, surrounded the college on the west and north. - -Hezekiah's successors had done strange things to his campus. There were -dozens of buildings now surrounding Sanford Hall, and they revealed all -the types of architecture popular since Hezekiah had thundered his last -defiance at Satan. There were fine old colonial buildings, their windows -outlined by English ivy; ponderous Romanesque buildings made of stone, -grotesque and hideous; a pseudo-Gothic chapel with a tower of -surpassing loveliness; and four laboratories of the purest factory -design. But despite the conglomerate and sometimes absurd -architecture--a Doric temple neighbored a Byzantine mosque--the campus -was beautiful. Lawns, often terraced, stretched everywhere, and the -great elms lent a dignity to Sanford College that no architect, however -stupid, could quite efface. - -This first day of the new college year was glorious in the golden haze -of Indian summer. The lake was silver blue, the long reflections of the -trees twisting and bending as a soft breeze ruffled the surface into -tiny waves. The hills already brilliant with color--scarlet, burnt -orange, mauve, and purple--flamed up to meet the clear blue sky; the -elms softly rustled their drying leaves; the white houses of the village -retreated coyly behind maples and firs and elms: everywhere there was -peace, the peace that comes with strength that has been stronger than -time. - -As Hugh Carver hastened up the hill from the station, his two suit-cases -banged his legs and tripped him. He could hardly wait to reach the -campus. The journey had been intolerably long--Haydensville was more -than three hundred miles from Merrytown, his home--and he was wild to -find his room in Surrey Hall. He wondered how he would like his -room-mate, Peters.... What's his name? Oh, yes, Carl.... The registrar -had written that Peters had gone to Kane School.... Must be pretty fine. -Ought to be first-class to room with.... Hugh hoped that Peters wouldn't -think that he was too country.... - -Hugh was a slender lad who looked considerably less than his eighteen -years. A gray cap concealed his sandy brown hair, which he parted on the -side and which curled despite all his brushing. His crystalline blue -eyes, his small, neatly carved nose, his sensitive mouth that hid a shy -and appealing smile, were all very boyish. He seemed young, almost -pathetically young. - -People invariably called him a nice boy, and he didn't like it; in fact, -he wanted to know how they got that way. They gave him the pip, that's -what they did. He guessed that a fellow who could run the hundred in 10: -2 and out-box anybody in high school wasn't such a baby. Why, he had -overheard one of the old maid teachers call him sweet. Sweet! Cripes, -that old hen made him sick. She was always pawing him and sticking her -skinny hands in his hair. He was darn glad to get to college where there -were only men teachers. - -Women always wanted to get their hands into his hair, and boys liked him -on sight. Many of those who were streaming up the hill before and behind -him, who passed him or whom he passed, glanced at his eager face and -thought that there was a guy they'd like to know. - -An experienced observer would have divided those boys into three groups: -preparatory school boys, carelessly at ease, well dressed, or, as the -college argot has it, "smooth"; boys from city schools, not so well -dressed perhaps, certainly not so sure of themselves; and country boys, -many of them miserably confused and some of them clad in Kollege Kut -Klothes that they would shamefacedly discard within a week. - -Hugh finally reached the top of the hill, and the campus was before him. -He had visited the college once with his father and knew his way about. -Eager as he was to reach Surrey Hall, he paused to admire the -pseudo-Gothic chapel. He felt a little thrill of pride as he stared in -awe at the magnificent building. It had been willed to the college by an -alumnus who had made millions selling rotten pork. - -Hugh skirted two of the factory laboratories, hurried between the Doric -temple and Byzantine mosque, paused five times to direct confused -classmates, passed a dull red colonial building, and finally stood -before Surrey Hall, a large brick dormitory half covered by ivy. - -He hurried up-stairs and down a corridor until he found a door with 19 -on it. He knocked. - -"What th' hell! Come in." The voice was impatiently cheerful. - -Hugh pushed open the door and entered the room to meet wild -confusion--and his room-mate. The room was a clutter of suit-cases, -trunks, clothes, banners, unpacked furniture, pillows, pictures, -golf-sticks, tennis-rackets, and photographs--dozens of photographs, all -of them of girls apparently. In the middle of the room a boy was on his -knees before an open trunk. He had sleek black hair, parted meticulously -in the center, a slender face with rather sharp features and large black -eyes that almost glittered. His lips were full and very red, almost too -red, and his cheeks seemed to be colored with a hard blush. - -"Hullo," he said in a clear voice as Hugh came in. "Who are you?" - -Hugh flushed slightly. "I'm Carver," he answered, "Hugh Carver." - -The other lad jumped to his feet, revealing, to Hugh's surprise, golf -knickers. He was tall, slender, and very neatly built. - -"Hell!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have guessed that." He held out his -hand. "I'm Carl Peters, the guy you've got to room with--and God help -you." - -Hugh dropped his suit-cases and shook hands. "Guess I can stand it," he -said with a quick laugh to hide his embarrassment. "Maybe you'll need a -little of God's help yourself." Diffident and unsure, he smiled--and -Peters liked him on the spot. - -"Chase yourself," Peters said easily. "I know a good guy when I see one. -Sit down somewhere--er, here." He brushed a pile of clothes off a trunk -to the floor with one sweep of his arm. "Rest yourself after climbing -that goddamn hill. Christ! It's a bastard, that hill is. Say, your -trunk's down-stairs. I saw it. I'll help you bring it up soon's you've -got your wind." - -Hugh was rather dazzled by the rapid, staccato talk, and, to tell the -truth, he was a little shocked by the profanity. Not that he wasn't used -to profanity; he had heard plenty of that in Merrytown, but he didn't -expect somehow that a college man--that is, a prep-school man--would use -it. He felt that he ought to make some reply to Peters's talk, but he -didn't know just what would do. Peters saved him the trouble. - -"I'll tell you, Carver--oh, hell, I'm going to call you Hugh--we're -going to have a swell joint here. Quite the darb. Three rooms, you know; -a bedroom for each of us and this big study. I've brought most of the -junk that I had at Kane, and I s'pose you've got some of your own." - -"Not much," Hugh replied, rather ashamed of what he thought might be -considered stinginess. He hastened to explain that he didn't know what -Carl would have; so he thought that he had better wait and get his stuff -at college. - -"That's the bean," exclaimed Carl, He had perched himself on the -window-seat. He threw one well shaped leg over the other and gazed at -Hugh admiringly. "You certainly used the old bean. Say, I've got a hell -of a lot of truck here, and if you'd a brought much, we'd a been -swamped.... Say, I'll tell you how we fix this dump." He jumped up, led -Hugh on a tour of the rooms, discussed the disposal of the various -pieces of furniture with enormous gusto, and finally pointed to the -photographs. - -"Hope you don't mind my harem," he said, making a poor attempt to hide -his pride. - -"It's some harem," replied Hugh in honest awe. - -Again he felt ashamed. He had pictures of his father and mother, and -that was all. He'd write to Helen for one right away. "Where'd you get -all of 'em? You've certainly got a collection." - -"Sure have. The album of hearts I've broken. When I've kissed a girl -twice I make her give me her picture. I've forgotten the names of some -of these janes. I collected ten at Bar Harbor this summer and three at -Christmas Cove. Say, this kid--" he fished through a pile of -pictures--"was the hottest little devil I ever met." He passed to Hugh a -cabinet photograph of a standard flapper. "Pet? My God!" He cast his -eyes ceilingward ecstatically. - -Hugh's mind was a battle-field of disapproval and envy. Carl dazzled and -confused him. He had often listened to the recitals of their exploits by -the Merrytown Don Juans, but this good-looking, sophisticated lad -evidently had a technique and breadth of experience quite unknown to -Merrytown. He wanted badly to hear more, but time was flying and he -hadn't even begun to unpack. - -"Will you help me bring up my trunk?" he asked half shyly. - -"Oh, hell, yes. I'd forgotten all about that. Come on." - -They spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, arranging and -rearranging the furniture and pictures. They found a restaurant and had -dinner. Then they returned to 19 Surrey and rearranged the furniture -once more, pausing occasionally to chat while Carl smoked. He offered -Hugh a cigarette. Hugh explained that he did not smoke, that he was a -sprinter and that the coaches said that cigarettes were bad for a -runner. - -"Right-o," said Carl, respecting the reason thoroughly. "I can't run -worth a damn myself, but I'm not bad at tennis--not very good, either. -Say, if you're a runner you ought to make a fraternity easy. Got your -eye on one?" - -"Well," said Hugh, "my father's a Nu Delt." - -"The Nu Delts. Phew! High-hat as hell." He looked at Hugh enviously. -"Say, you certainly are set. Well, my old man never went to college, but -I want to tell you that he left us a whale of a lot of jack when he -passed out a couple of years ago." - -"What!" Hugh exclaimed, staring at him in blank astonishment. - -In an instant Carl was on his feet, his flashing eyes dimmed by tears. -"My old man was the best scout that ever lived--the best damned old -scout that ever lived." His sophistication was all gone; he was just a -small boy, heartily ashamed of himself and ready to cry. "I want you to -know that," he ended defiantly. - -At once Hugh was all sympathy. "Sure, I know," he said softly. Then he -smiled and added, "So's mine." - -Carl's face lost its lugubriousness in a broad grin. "I'm a fish," he -announced. "Let's hit the hay." - -"You said it!" - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Hugh wrote two letters before he went to bed, one to his mother and -father and the other to Helen Simpson. His letter to Helen was very -brief, merely a request for her photograph. - -Then, his mind in a whirl of excitement, he went to bed and lay awake -dreaming, thinking of Carl, the college, and, most of all, of Helen and -his walk with her the day before. - -He had called on her to say good-by. They had been "going together" for -a year, and she was generally considered his girl. She was a pretty -child with really beautiful brown hair, which she had foolishly bobbed, -lively blue eyes, and an absurdly tiny snub nose. She was little, with -quick, eager hands--a shallow creature who was proud to be seen with -Hugh because he had been captain of the high-school track team. But she -did wish that he wasn't so slow. Why, he had kissed her only once, and -that had been a silly peck on the cheek. Perhaps he was just shy, but -sometimes she was almost sure that he was "plain dumb." - -They had walked silently along the country road to the woods that -skirted the town. An early frost had already touched the foliage with -scarlet and orange. They sat down on a fallen log, and Hugh gazed at a -radiant maple-tree. - -Helen let her hand drop lightly on his. "Thinking of me?" she asked -softly. - -Hugh squeezed her hand. "Yes," he whispered, and looked at the ground -while he scuffed some fallen leaves with the toe of his shoe. - -"I am going to miss you, Hughie--oh, awfully. Are you going to miss me?" - -He held her hand tightly and said nothing. He was aware only of her -hand. His throat seemed to be stopped, choked with something. - -A bird that should have been on its way south chirped from a tree near -by. The sound made Hugh look up. He noticed that the shadows were -lengthening. He and Helen would have to start back pretty soon or he -would be late for dinner. There was still packing to do; his mother had -said that his father wanted to have a talk with him--and through all his -thoughts there ran like a fiery red line the desire to kiss the girl -whose hand was clasped in his. - -He turned slightly toward her. "Hughie," she whispered and moved close -to him. His heart stopped as he loosened her hand from his and put his -arm around her. With a contented sigh she rested her head on one -shoulder and her hand on the other. "Hughie dear," she breathed softly. - -He hesitated no longer. His heart was beating so that he could not -speak, but he bent and kissed her. And there they sat for half an hour -more, close in each other's embrace, speaking no words, but losing -themselves in kisses that seemed to have no end. - -Finally Hugh realized that darkness had fallen. He drew the yielding -girl to her feet and started home, his arm around her. When they reached -her gate, he embraced her once more and kissed her as if he could never -let her go. A light flashed in a window. Frightened, he tried to leave, -but she clung to him. - -"I must go," he whispered desperately. - -"I'm going to miss you awfully." He thought that she was weeping--and -kissed her again. Then as another window shot light into the yard, he -forced her arms from around his neck. - -"Good-by, Helen. Write to me." His voice was rough and husky. - -"Oh, I will. Good-by--darling." - -He walked home tingling with emotion. He wanted to shout; he felt -suddenly grown up. Golly, but Helen was a little peach. He felt her arms -around his neck again, her lips pressed maddeningly to his. For an -instant he was dizzy.... - - * * * * * - -As he lay in bed in 19 Surrey thinking of Helen, he tried to summon that -glorious intoxication again. But he failed. Carl, the college, -registration--a thousand thoughts intruded themselves. Already Helen -seemed far away, a little nebulous. He wondered why.... - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -For the next few days Carl and Hugh did little but wait in line. They -lined up to register; they lined up to pay tuition; they lined up to -shake hands with President Culver; they lined up to talk for two quite -useless minutes with the freshman dean; they lined up to be assigned -seats in the commons. Carl suggested that he and Hugh line up in the -study before going to bed so that they would keep in practice. Then they -had to attend lectures given by various members of the faculty about -college customs, college manners, college honor, college everything. -After the sixth of them, Hugh, thoroughly weary and utterly confused, -asked Carl if he now had any idea of what college was. - -"Yes," replied Carl; "it's a young ladies' school for very nice boys." - -"Well," Hugh said desperately, "if I have to listen to about two more -awfully noble lectures, I'm going to get drunk. I have a hunch that -college isn't anything like what these old birds say it is. I hope not, -anyway." - -"Course it isn't. Say, why wait for two more of the damn things to kill -you off?" He pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and held it out -invitingly. - -Hugh laughed. "You told me yourself that that stuff was catgut and that -you wouldn't drink it on a bet. Besides, you know that I don't drink. If -I'm going to make my letter, I've got to keep in trim." - -"Right you are. Wish I knew what to do with this poison. If I leave it -around here, the biddy'll get hold of it, and then God help us. I'll -tell you what: after it gets dark to-night we'll take it down and poison -the waters of dear old Indian Lake." - -"All right. Say, I've got to pike along; I've got a date with my faculty -adviser. Hope I don't have to stand in line." - -He didn't have to stand in line--he was permitted to sit--but he did -have to wait an hour and a half. Finally a student came out of the inner -office, and a gruff voice from within called, "Next!" - -"Just like a barber shop," flashed across Hugh's mind as he entered the -tiny office. - -An old-young man was sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He glanced -up as Hugh came in and motioned him to a chair beside him. Hugh sat down -and stared at his feet. - -"Um, let's see. Your name's--what?" - -"Carver, sir. Hugh Carver." - -The adviser, Professor Kane, glanced at some notes. "Oh, yes, from -Merrytown High School, fully accredited. Are you taking an A.B. or a -B.S.?" - -"I--I don't know." - -"You have to have one year of college Latin for a B.S. and at least two -years of Greek besides for an A.B." - -"Oh!" Hugh was frightened and confused. He knew that his father was an -A.B., but he had heard the high-school principal say that Greek was -useless nowadays. Suddenly he remembered: the principal had advised him -to take a B.S.; he had said that it was more practical. - -"I guess I'd better take a B.S.," he said softly. "Very well." Professor -Kane, who hadn't yet looked at Hugh, picked up a schedule card. "Any -middle name?" he asked abruptly. - -"Yes, sir--Meredith." - -Kane scribbled H.M. Carver at the top of the card and then proceeded to -fill it in rapidly. He hastily explained the symbols that he was using, -but he did not say anything about the courses. When he had completed the -schedule, he copied it on another card, handed one to Hugh, and stuck -the other into a filing-box. - -"Anything else?" he asked, turning his blond, blank face toward Hugh for -the first time. - -Hugh stood up. There were a dozen questions that he wanted to ask. "No, -sir," he replied. "Very well, then. I am your regular adviser. You will -come to me when you need assistance. Good day." - -"Good day, sir," and as Hugh passed out of the door, the gruff voice -bawled, "Next!" The boy nearest the door rose and entered the sanctum. - -Hugh sought the open air and gazed at the hieroglyphics on the card. -"Guess they mean something," he mused, "but how am I going to find out?" -A sudden fear made him blanch. "I bet I get into the wrong places. Oh, -golly!" - - * * * * * - -Then came the upper-classmen, nearly seven hundred of them. The quiet -campus became a bedlam of excitement and greetings. "Hi, Jack. Didya -have a good summer?"... "Well, Tom, ol' kid, I sure am glad to see you -back."... "Put her there, ol' scout; it's sure good to see you." -Everywhere the same greetings: "Didya have a good summer? Glad to see -you back." Every one called every one else by his first name; every one -shook hands with astonishing vigor, usually clutching the other fellow -by the forearm at the same time. How cockily these lads went around the -campus! No confusion or fear for them; they knew what to do. - -For the first time Hugh felt a pang of homesickness; for the first time -he realized that he wasn't yet part of the college. He clung close to -Carl and one or two other lads in Surrey with whom he picked up an -acquaintance, and Carl clung close to Hugh, careful to hide the fact -that he felt very small and meek. For the first time _he_ realized that -he was just a freshman--and he didn't like it. - -Then suddenly the tension, which had been gathering for a day or so, -broke. Orders went out from the upper-classmen that all freshmen put on -their baby bonnets, silly little blue caps with a bright orange button. -From that moment every freshman was doomed. Work was their lot, and -plenty of it. "Hi, freshman, carry up my trunk. Yeah, you, freshman--you -with the skinny legs. You and your fat friend carry my trunk up to the -fourth floor--and if you drop it, I'll break your fool necks."... -"Freshman! go down to the station and get my suit-cases. Here are the -checks. Hurry back if you know what's good for you."... "Freshman! go -up to Hill Twenty-eight and put the beds together."... "Freshman! come -up to my room. I want you to hang pictures." - -Fortunately the labor did not last long, but while it lasted Hugh was -hustled around as he never had been before. And he loved it. He loved -his blue cap and its orange button; he loved the upper-classmen who -called him freshman and ordered him around; he loved the very trunks -that he lugged so painfully up-stairs. He was being recognized, merely -as a janitor, it is true, but recognized; at last he was a part of -Sanford College. Further, one of the men who had ordered him around the -most fiercely wore a Nu Delta pin, the emblem of his father's -fraternity. He ran that man's errands with such speed and willingness -that the hero decided that the freshman was "very, very dumb." - -That night Hugh and Carl sat in 19 Surrey and rested their aching bones, -one on a couch, the other in a leather Morris chair. - -"Hot stuff, wasn't it?" said Hugh, stretching out comfortably. - -"Hot stuff, hell! How do they get that way?" - -"Never mind; we'll do the ordering next year." - -"Right you are," said Carl decisively, lighting a cigarette, "and won't -I make the little frosh walk." He gazed around the room, his face -beaming with satisfaction. "Say, we're pretty snappy here, aren't we?" - -Hugh, too, looked around admiringly. The walls were almost hidden by -banners, a huge Sanford blanket--Hugh's greatest contribution--Carl's -Kane blanket, the photographs of the "harem," posters of college -athletes and movie bathing-girls, pipe-racks, and three Maxfield Parrish -prints. - -"It certainly is fine," said Hugh proudly. "All we need is a barber pole -and a street sign." - -"We'll have 'em before the week is out." This with great decision. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Carl's adviser had been less efficient than Hugh's; therefore he knew -what his courses were, where the classes met and the hours, the names of -his instructors, and the requirements other than Latin for a B.S. -degree. Carl said that he was taking a B.S. because he had had a year of -Greek at Kane and was therefore perfectly competent to make full use of -the language; he could read the letters on the front doors of the -fraternity houses. - -The boys found that their courses were the same but that they were in -different sections. Hugh was in a dilemma; he could make nothing out of -his card. - -"Here," said Carl, "give the thing to me. My adviser was a good scout -and wised me up. This P.C. isn't paper cutting as you might suppose; -it's gym. You'll get out of that by signing up for track. P.C. means -physical culture. Think of that! You can sign up for track any time -to-morrow down at the gym. And E I, 7 means that you're in English I, -Section 7; and M is math. You re in Section 3. Lat means Latin, of -course--Section 6. My adviser--he tried pretty hard to be funny--said -that G.S. wasn't glorious salvation but general science. That meets in -the big lecture hall in Cranston. We all go to that. And H I, 4 means -that you are in Section 4 of History I. See? That's all there is to it. -Now this thing"--he held up a printed schedule--"tells you where the -classes meet." - -With a great deal of labor, discussion, and profanity they finally got a -schedule made out that meant something to Hugh. He heaved a -Brobdingnagian sigh of relief when they finished. - -"Well," he exclaimed, "that's that! At last I know where I'm going. You -certainly saved my life. I know where all the buildings are; so it ought -to be easy." - -"Sure," said Carl encouragingly; "it's easy. Now there's nothing to do -till to-morrow until eight forty-five when we attend chapel to the glory -of the Lord. I think I'll pray to-morrow; I may need it. Christ! I hate -to study." - -"Me, too," Hugh lied. He really loved books, but somehow he couldn't -admit the fact, which had suddenly become shameful, to Carl. "Let's go -to the movies," he suggested, changing the subject for safety. - -"Right-o!" Carl put on his freshman cap and flung Hugh's to him. "Gloria -Nielsen is there, and she's a pash baby. Ought to be a good fillum." - -The Blue and Orange--it was the only movie theater in town--was almost -full when the boys arrived. Only a few seats near the front were still -vacant. A freshman started down the aisle, his "baby bonnet" stuck -jauntily on the back of his head. - -"Freshman!"... "Kill him!"... "Murder the frosh!" Shouts came from all -parts of the house, and an instant later hundreds of peanuts shot -swiftly at the startled freshman. "Cap! Cap! Cap off!" There was a panic -of excitement. Upper-classmen were standing on their chairs to get free -throwing room. The freshman snatched off his cap, drew his head like a -scared turtle down into his coat collar, and ran for a seat. Hugh and -Carl tucked their caps into their coat pockets and attempted to stroll -nonchalantly down the aisle. They hadn't taken three steps before the -bombardment began. Like their classmate, they ran for safety. - -Then some one in the front of the theatre threw a peanut at some one in -the rear. The fight was on! Yelling like madmen, the students stood on -their chairs and hurled peanuts, the front and rear of the house -automatically dividing into enemy camps. When the fight was at its -hottest, three girls entered. - -"Wimmen! Wimmen!" As the girls walked down the aisle, infinitely pleased -with their reception, five hundred men stamped in time with their -steps. - -No sooner were the girls seated than there was a scramble in one corner, -an excited scuffling of feet. "I've got it!" a boy screamed. He stood on -his chair and held up a live mouse by its tail. There was a shout of -applause and then--"Play catch!" - -The boy dropped the writhing mouse into a peanut bag, screwed the open -end tight-closed, and then threw the bag far across the room. Another -boy caught it and threw it, this time over the girls' heads. They -screamed and jumped upon their chairs, holding their skirts, and dancing -up and down in assumed terror. Back over their heads, back and over, -again and again the bagged mouse was thrown while the girls screamed and -the boys roared with delight. Suddenly one of the girls threw up her -arm, caught the bag deftly, held it for a second, and then tossed it -into the rear of the theater. - -Cheers of terrifying violence broke loose: "Ray! Ray! Atta girl! Hot -dog! Ray, ray!" And then the lights went out. - -"Moosick! Moosick! Moo-_sick_!" The audience stamped and roared, -whistled and howled. "Moosick! We want moosick!" - -The pianist, an undergraduate, calmly strolled down the aisle. - -"Get a move on!"... "Earn your salary!"... "Give us moosick!" - -The pianist paused to thumb his nose casually at the entire audience, -and then amid shouts and hisses sat down at the piano and began to play -"Love Nest." - -Immediately the boys began to whistle, and as the comedy was utterly -stupid, they relieved their boredom by whistling the various tunes that -the pianist played until the miserable film flickered out. - -Then the "feature" and the fun began. During the stretches of pure -narrative, the boys whistled, but when there was any real action they -talked. The picture was a melodrama of "love and hate," as the -advertisement said. - -The boys told the actors what to do; they revealed to them the secrets -of the plot. "She's hiding behind the door, Harold. No, no! Not that -way. Hey, dumbbell--behind the door."... "Catch him, Gloria; he's only -shy!"... "No, that's not him!" - -The climactic fight brought shouts of encouragement--to the villain. -"Kill him!"... "Shoot one to his kidneys!"... "Ahhhhh," as the villain -hit the hero in the stomach.... "Muss his hair. Attaboy!"... "Kill the -skunk!" And finally groans of despair when the hero won his inevitable -victory. - -But it was the love scenes that aroused the greatest ardor and joy. The -hero was given careful instructions. "Some neckin', Harold!"... "Kiss -her! Kiss her! Ahhh!"... "Harold, Harold, you're getting rough!"... -"She's vamping you, Harold!"... "Stop it; Gloria; he's a good boy." And -so on until the picture ended in the usual close-up of the hero and -heroine silhouetted in a tender embrace against the setting sun. The -boys breathed "Ahhhh" and "Ooooh" ecstatically--and laughed. The -meretricious melodrama did not fool them, but they delighted in its -absurdities. - -The lights flashed on and the crowd filed out, "wise-cracking" about the -picture and commenting favorably on the heroine's figure. There were -shouts to this fellow or that fellow to come on over and play bridge, -and suggestions here and there to go to a drug store and get a drink. - -Hugh and Carl strolled home over the dark campus, both of them radiant -with excitement, Hugh frankly so. - -"Golly, I did enjoy that," he exclaimed. "I never had a better time. It -was sure hot stuff. I don't want to go to the room; let's walk for a -while." - -"Yeah, it was pretty good," Carl admitted. "Nope, I can't go walking; -gotta write a letter." - -"Who to? The harem?" - -Carl hunched his shoulders until his ears touched his coat collar. -"Gettin' cold. Fall's here. Nope, not the harem. My old lady." - -Hugh looked at him bewildered. He was finding Carl more and more a -conundrum. He consistently called his mother his old lady, insisted that -she was a damned nuisance--and wrote to her every night. Hugh was -writing to his mother only twice a week. It was very confusing.... - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Capwell Chapel--it bore the pork merchant's name as an eternal memorial -to him--was as impressive inside as out. The stained-glass windows had -been made by a famous New York firm; the altar had been designed by an -even more famous sculptor. The walls, quite improperly, were adorned -with paintings of former presidents, but the largest painting of all--it -was fairly Gargantuan--was of the pork merchant, a large, ruddy -gentleman, whom the artist, a keen observer, had painted -truly--complacently porcine, benevolently smug. - -The seniors and juniors sat in the nave, the sophomores on the right -side of the transept, the freshmen on the left. Hugh gazed upward in awe -at the dim recesses of the vaulted ceiling, at the ornately carved choir -where gowned students were quietly seating themselves, at the colored -light streaming through the beautiful windows, at the picture of the -pork merchant. The chapel bells ceased tolling; rich, solemn tones -swelled from the organ. - -President Culver in cap and gown, his purple hood falling over his -shoulders, entered followed by his faculty, also gowned and hooded. The -students rose and remained standing until the president and faculty were -seated. The organ sounded a final chord, and then the college chaplain -rose and prayed--very badly. He implored the Lord to look kindly "on -these young men who have come from near and far to drink from this great -fount of learning, this well of wisdom." - -The prayer over, the president addressed the students. He was a large, -erect man with iron-gray hair and a rugged intelligent face. Although he -was sixty years old, his body was vigorous and free from extra weight. -He spoke slowly and impressively, choosing his words with care and -enunciating them with great distinctness. His address was for the -freshmen: he welcomed them to Sanford College, to its splendid -traditions, its high ideals, its noble history. He spoke of the famous -men it numbered among its sons, of the work they had done for America -and the world, of the work he hoped future Sanford men, they, the -freshmen, would some day do for America and the world. He mentioned -briefly the boys from Sanford who had died in the World War "to make the -world safe for democracy," and he prayed that their sacrifice had not -been in vain. Finally, he spoke of the chapel service, which the -students were required to attend. He hoped that they would find -inspiration in it, knowledge and strength. He assured them that the -service would always be nonsectarian, that there would never be anything -in it to offend any one of any race, creed, or religion. With a last -exhortation to the freshmen to make the most of their great -opportunities, he ended with the announcement that they would rise and -sing the sixty-seventh hymn. - -Hugh was deeply impressed by the speech but disturbed by the students. -From where he sat he got an excellent view of the juniors and seniors. -The seniors, who sat in the front of the nave, seemed to be paying -fairly good attention; but the juniors--many of them, at least--paid no -attention at all. Some of them were munching apples, some doughnuts, and -many of them were reading "The Sanford News," the college's daily paper. -Some of the juniors talked during the president's address, and once he -noticed four of them doubled up as if overcome by laughter. To him the -service was a beautiful and impressive occasion. He could not understand -the conduct of the upper-classmen. It seemed, to put it mildly, -irreverent. - -Every one, however, sang the doxology with great vigor, some of the boys -lifting up a "whisky" tenor that made the chapel ring, and to which Hugh -happily added his own clear tenor. The benediction was pronounced by the -chaplain, the seniors marched out slowly in twos, while the other -students and the faculty stood in their places; then the president, -followed by the faculty, passed out of the great doors. When the back of -the last faculty gown had disappeared, the under-classmen broke for the -door, pushing each other aside, swearing when a toe was stepped on, -yelling to each other, some of them joyously chanting the doxology. Hugh -was caught in the rush and carried along with the mob, feeling ashamed -and distressed; this was no way to leave a church. - -Once outside, however, he had no time to think of the chapel service; he -had five minutes in which to get to his first class, and the building -was across the campus, a good two minutes' walk. He patted his cap to be -sure that it was firmly on the back of his head, clutched his note-book, -and ran as hard as he could go, the strolling upper-classmen, whom he -passed at top speed, grinning after him in tolerant amusement. - -Hugh was the first one in the class-room and wondered in a moment of -panic if he was in the right place. He sat down dubiously and looked at -his watch. Four minutes left. He would wait two, and then if nobody came -he would--he gasped; he couldn't imagine what he would do. How could he -find the right class-room? Maybe his class didn't come at this hour at -all. Suppose he and Carl had made a mistake. If they had, his whole -schedule was probably wrong. "Oh, golly," he thought, feeling pitifully -weak, "won't that be hell? What can I do?" - -At that moment a countrified-looking youth entered, looking as scared as -Hugh felt. His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he asked -timidly, "Do you know if this is Section Three of Math One?" - -Hugh was immediately strengthened. "I think so," he replied. "Anyhow, -let's wait and find out." - -The freshman sighed in huge relief, took out a not too clean -handkerchief, and mopped his face. "Criminy!" he exclaimed as he -wriggled down the aisle to a seat by Hugh, "I was sure worried. I -thought I was in the wrong building, though I was sure that my adviser -had told me positively that Math was in Matthew Six." - -"I guess we're all right," Hugh comforted him as two other freshmen, -also looking dubious, entered. They were followed by four more, and then -by a stampeding group, all of them pop-eyed, all of them in a rush. In -the next minute five freshmen dashed in and then dashed out again, -utterly bewildered, obviously terrified, and not knowing where to go or -what to do. "Is this Math One, Section Three?" every man demanded of the -room as he entered; and every one yelled, "Yes," or, "I think so." - -Just as the bell rang at ten minutes after the hour, the instructor -entered. It was Professor Kane. - -"This is Mathematics One, Section Three," Kane announced in a dry voice. -"If there is any one here who does not belong here, he will please -leave." Nobody moved; so he shuffled some cards in his hand and asked -the men to answer to the roll-call. - -"Adams, J.H." - -"Present, sir." - -Kane looked up and frowned. "Say 'here,'" he said severely. "This is not -a grammar-school." - -"Yes, sir," stuttered Adams, his face first white then purple. "Here, -sir." - -"'Here' will do; there is no need of the 'sir.' Allsop, K.E." - -"Here"--in a very faint voice. - -"Speak up!" - -"Here." This time a little louder. - -And so it went, hardly a man escaping without some admonishment. Hugh's -throat went dry; his tongue literally stuck to the roof of his mouth: he -was sure that he wouldn't be able to say "Here" when it came his turn, -and he could feel his heart pounding in dreadful anticipation. - -"Carver, H.M." - -"Here!" - -There! it was out! Or had he really said it? - -He looked at the professor in terror, but Kane was already calling, -"Dana, R.T." Hugh sank back in his chair; he was trembling. - -Kane announced the text-book, and when Hugh caught the word -"trigonometry" he actually thrilled with joy. He had had trig in high -school. Whoops! Would he hit Math I in the eye? He'd knock it for a -goal.... Then conscience spoke. Oughtn't he to tell Kane that he had -already had trig? He guessed quite rightly that Kane had not understood -his high-school credentials, which had given him credit for "advanced -mathematics." Kane had taken it for granted that that was advanced -algebra. Hugh felt that he ought to explain the mistake, but fear of the -arid, impersonal man restrained him. Kane had told him to take Math I; -and Kane was law. - -Unlike most of Hugh's instructors, Kane kept the class the full hour the -first day, seating them in alphabetical order--he had to repeat the -performance three times during the week as new men entered the -class--lecturing them on the need of doing their problems carefully and -accurately, and discoursing on the value of mathematics, trigonometry in -particular, in the study of science and engineering. Hugh was not -interested in science, engineering, or mathematics, but he listened -carefully, trying hard to follow Kane's cold discourse. At the end of -the hour he told his neighbor as they left the room that he guessed that -Professor Kane knew an awful lot, and his neighbor agreed with him. - -Hugh's other instructors proved less impressive than Kane; in fact, Mr. -Alling, the instructor in Latin, was altogether disconcerting. - -"Plautus," he told the class, "wrote comedies, farces--not exercises in -translation. He was also, my innocents, occasionally naughty--oh, really -naughty. What's worse, he used slang, common every-day slang--the kind -of stuff that you and I talk. Now, I have an excellent vocabulary of -slang, obscenity, and profanity; and you are going to hear most of it. -Think of the opportunity. Don't think that I mean just 'damn' and -'hell.' They are good for a laugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was -not restrained by our modern conventions. _You_ will confine yourselves, -please, to English undefiled, but I shall speak the modern equivalent to -a Roman gutter-pup's language whenever necessary. You will find this -course very illuminating--in some ways. And, who knows? you may learn -something not only about Latin but about Rome." - -Hugh thought Mr. Alling was rather flippant and lacking in dignity. -Professor Kane was more like a college teacher. Before the term was out -he hated Kane with an intensity that astonished him, and he looked -forward to his Latin classes with an eagerness of which he was almost -ashamed. Plautus in the Alling free and colloquial translations was -enormously funny. - -Professor Hartley, who gave the history lectures, talked in a bass -monotone and never seemed to pause for breath. His words came in a slow -steady stream that never rose nor fell nor paused--until the bell rang. -The men in the back of the room slept. Hugh was seated near the front; -so he drew pictures in his note-book. The English instructor talked -about punctuation as if it were very unpleasant but almost religiously -important; and what the various lecturers in general science talked -about--ten men gave the course--Hugh never knew. In after years all that -he could remember about the course was that one man spoke broken English -and that a professor of physics had made huge bulbs glow with marvelous -colors. - -Hugh had one terrifying experience before he finally got settled to his -work. It occurred the second day of classes. He was comfortably seated -in what he thought was his English class--he had come in just as the -bell rang--when the instructor announced that it was a class in French. -What was he to do? What would the instructor do if he got up and left -the room? What would happen if he didn't report at his English class? -What would happen to him for coming into his English class late? These -questions staggered his mind. He was afraid to stay in the French class. -Cautiously he got up and began to tiptoe to the door. - -"Wrong room?" the instructor asked pleasantly. - -Hugh flushed. "Yes, sir." He stopped dead still, not knowing what to do -next. - -He was a typical rattled freshman, and the class, which was composed of -sophomores, laughed. Hugh, angry and humiliated, started for the door, -but the instructor held up a hand that silenced the class; then he -motioned for Hugh to come to his desk. - -"What class are you looking for?" - -"English One, sir, Section Seven." He held out his schedule card, -reassured by the instructor's kindly manner. - -The instructor looked at the card and then consulted a printed schedule. - -"Oh," he said, "your adviser made a mistake. He got you into the wrong -group list. You belong in Sanders Six." - -"Thank you, sir." Hugh spoke so softly that the waiting class did not -hear him, but the instructor smiled at the intensity of his thanks. As -he left the room, he knew that every one was looking at him; his legs -felt as if they were made of wood. It wasn't until he had closed the -door that his knee-joints worked naturally. But the worst was still -ahead of him. He had to go to his English class in Sanders 6. He ran -across the campus, his heart beating wildly, his hands desperately -clenched. When he reached Sanders 6, he found three other freshmen -grouped before the door. - -"Is this English One, Section Seven?" one asked tremulously. - -"I think so," whispered the second. "Do you know?" he asked, turning to -Hugh. - -"Yes; I am almost sure." - -They stood there looking at each other, no one quite daring to enter -Sanders 6, no one quite daring to leave. Suddenly the front door of the -building slammed. A bareheaded youth rushed up the stairs. He was a -repeater; that is, a man who had failed the course the preceding year -and was taking it over again. He brushed by the scared freshmen, opened -the door, and strode into Sanders 6, closing the door behind him. - -The freshmen looked at each other, and then the one nearest the door -opened it. The four of them filed in silently. - -The class looked up. "Sit in the back of the room," said the instructor. - -And that was all there was to that. In his senior year Hugh remembered -the incident and wondered at his terror. He tried to remember why he had -been so badly frightened. He couldn't; there didn't seem to be any -reason at all. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -About a week after the opening of college, Hugh returned to Surrey Hall -one night feeling unusually virtuous and happy. He had worked -religiously at the library until it had closed at ten, and he had been -in the mood to study. His lessons for the next day were all prepared, -and prepared well. He had strolled across the moon-lit campus, buoyant -and happy. Some one was playing the organ in the dark chapel; he paused -to listen. Two students passed him, humming softly, - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true...." - - -The dormitories were dim masses broken by rectangles of soft yellow -light. Somewhere a banjo twanged. Another student passed. - -"Hello, Carver," he said pleasantly. "Nice night." - -"Oh, hello, Jones. It sure is." - -The simple greeting completed his happiness. He felt that he belonged, -that Sanford, the "mother of men," had taken him to her heart. The music -in the chapel swelled, lyric, passionate--up! up! almost a cry. The -moonlight was golden between the heavy shadows of the elms. Tears came -into the boy's eyes; he was melancholy with joy. - -He climbed the stairs of Surrey slowly, reluctant to reach his room and -Carl's flippancy. He passed an open door and glanced at the men inside -the room. - -"Hi, Hugh. Come in and bull a while." - -"Not to-night, thanks." He moved on down the hall, feeling a vague -resentment; his mood had been broken, shattered. - -The door opposite his own room was slightly open. A freshman lived -there, Herbert Morse, a queer chap with whom Carl and Hugh had succeeded -in scraping up only the slightest acquaintance. He was a big fellow, -fully six feet, husky and quick. The football coach said that he had the -makings of a great half-back, but he had already been fired off the -squad because of his irregularity in reporting for practice. Except for -what the boys called his stand-offishness--some of them said that he was -too damned high-hat--he was extremely attractive. He had red, almost -copper-colored, hair, and an exquisite skin, as delicate as a child's. -His features were well carved, his nose slightly aquiline--a magnificent -looking fellow, almost imperious; or as Hugh once said to Carl, "Morse -looks kinda noble." - -As Hugh placed his hand on the door-knob of No 19, he heard something -that sounded suspiciously like a sob from across the hall. He paused and -listened. He was sure that he could hear some one crying. - -"Wonder what's wrong," he thought, instantly disturbed and sympathetic. - -He crossed the hall and tapped lightly on Morse's door. There was no -answer; nor was there any when he tapped a second time. For a moment he -was abashed, and then he pushed open the door and entered Morse's room. - -In the far corner Morse was sitting at his, desk, his head buried in his -arms, his shoulders shaking. He was crying fiercely, terribly; at times -his whole body jerked in the violence of his sobbing. - -Hugh stood by the door embarrassed and rather frightened. Morse's grief -brought a lump to his throat. He had never seen any one cry like that -before. Something had to be done. But what could he do? He had no right -to intrude on Morse, but he couldn't let the poor fellow go on suffering -like that. As he stood there hesitant, shaken, Morse buried his head -deeper in his arms, moaned convulsively, twisting and trembling after a -series of sobs that seemed to tear themselves from him. That was too -much for Hugh. He couldn't stand it. Some force outside of him sent him -across the room to Morse. He put his hand on a quivering shoulder and -said gently: - -"What is it, Morse? What's the matter?" - -Morse ran his hand despairingly through his red hair, shook his head, -and made no answer. - -"Come on, old man; buck up." Hugh's voice trembled; it was husky with -sympathy. "Tell me about it. Maybe I can help." - -Then Morse looked up, his face stained with tears, his eyes inflamed, -almost desperate. He stared at Hugh wonderingly. For an instant he was -angry at the intrusion, but his anger passed at once. He could not miss -the tenderness and sympathy in Hugh's face; and the boy's hand was still -pressing with friendly insistence on his shoulder. There was something -so boyishly frank, so clean and honest about Hugh that his irritation -melted into confidence; and he craved a confidant passionately. - -"Shut the door," he said dully, and reached into his trousers pocket for -his handkerchief. He mopped his face and eyes vigorously while Hugh was -closing the door, and then blew his nose as if he hated it. But the -tears continued to come, and all during his talk with Hugh he had to -pause occasionally to dry his eyes. - -Hugh stood awkwardly in the middle of the rug, not knowing whether to -sit down or not. Morse was clutching his handkerchief in his hand and -staring at the floor. Finally he spoke up. - -"Sit down," he said in a dead voice, "there." - -Hugh sank into the chair Morse indicated and then gripped his hands -together. He felt weak and frightened, and absolutely unable to say -anything. But Morse saved him the trouble. - -"I suppose you think I am an awful baby," he began, his voice thick with -tears, "but I just can't help it. I--I just can't help it. I don't want -to cry, but I do." And then he added defiantly, "Go ahead and think I'm -a baby if you want to." - -"I don't think you're a baby," Hugh said softly; "I'm just sorry; that's -all.... I hope I can help." He smiled shyly, hopefully. - -His smile conquered Morse. "You're a good kid, Carver," he cried -impulsively. "A darn good kid. I like you, and I'm going to tell you all -about it. And I--I--I won't care if you laugh." - -"I won't laugh," Hugh promised, relieved to think that there was a -possibility of laughing. The trouble couldn't be so awfully bad. - -Morse blew his nose, stuck his handkerchief into his pocket, pulled it -out again and dabbed his eyes, returned it to his pocket, and suddenly -stood up. - -"I'm homesick!" he blurred out. "I'm--I'm homesick, damned homesick. -I've been homesick ever since I arrived. I--I just can't stand it." - -For an instant Hugh did have a wild desire to laugh. Part of the desire -was caused by nervous relief, but part of it was caused by what seemed -to him the absurdity of the situation: a big fellow like Morse -blubbering, bawling for home and mother! - -"You can't know," Morse went on, "how awful it is--awful! I want to cry -all the time. I can't listen in classes. A prof asked me a question -to-day, and I didn't know what he had been talking about. He asked me -what he had said. I had to say I didn't know. The whole class laughed, -and the prof asked me why I had come to college. God! I nearly died." - -Hugh's sympathy was all captured again. He knew that he _would_ die if -he ever made a fool of himself in the class-room. - -"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "What did you say?" - -"Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. For a minute I thought that my -head was going to bust. He quit razzing me and I tried to pay attention, -but I couldn't; all I could do was think of home. Lord! I wish I was -there!" He mopped at his eyes and paced up and down the room nervously. - -"Oh, you'll get over that," Hugh said comfortingly. "Pretty soon you'll -get to know lots of fellows, and then you won't mind about home." - -"That's what I keep telling myself, but it don't work. I can't eat or -sleep. I can't study. I can't do anything. I tell you I've got to go -home. I've _got_ to!" This last with desperate emphasis. - -Hugh smiled. "You're all wrong," he asserted positively. "You're just -lonely; that's all. I bet that you'll be crazy about college in a -month--same as the rest of us. When you feel blue, come in and see -Peters and me. We'll make you grin; Peters will, anyway. You can't be -blue around him." - -Morse sat down. "You don't understand. I'm not lonely. It isn't that. I -could talk to fellows all day long if I wanted to. I don't want to talk -to 'em. I can't. There's just one person that I want to talk to, and -that's my mother." He shot the word "mother" out defiantly and glared at -Hugh, silently daring him to laugh, which Hugh had sense enough not to -do, although he wanted to strongly. The great big baby, wanting his -mother! Why, he wanted his mother, too, but he didn't cry about it. - -"That's all right," he said reassuringly; "you'll see her Christmas -vacation, and that isn't very long off." - -"I want to see her now!" Morse jumped to his feet and raised his -clenched hands above his head. "Now!" he roared. "Now! I've got to. I'm -going home on the midnight." He whirled about to his desk and began to -pull open the drawers, piling their contents on the top. - -"Here!" Hugh rushed to him and clutched his arms. "Don't do that." Morse -struggled, angry at the restraining hands, ready to strike them off. -Hugh had a flash of inspiration. "Think how disappointed your mother -will be," he cried, hanging on to Morse's arms; "think of her." - -Morse ceased struggling. "She will be disappointed," he admitted -miserably. "What can I do?" There was a world of despair in his -question. - -Hugh pushed him into the desk-chair and seated himself on the edge of -the desk. "I'll tell you," he said. He talked for half an hour, cheering -Morse, assuring him that his homesickness would pass away, offering to -study with him. At first Morse paid little attention, but finally he -quit sniffing and looked up, real interest in his face. When Hugh got a -weak smile out of him, he felt that his work had been done. He jumped -off the desk, leaned over to slap Morse on the back, and told him that -he was a good egg but a damn fool. - -Morse grinned. "You're a good egg yourself," he said gratefully. "You've -saved my life." - -Hugh was pleased and blushed. "You're full of bull.... Remember, we do -Latin at ten to-morrow." He opened the door. "Good night." - -"Good night." And Hugh heard as he closed the door. "Thanks a lot." - -When he opened his own door, he found Carl sitting before a blazing log -fire. There was no other light in the room. Carl had written his nightly -letter to the "old lady," and he was a little homesick himself--softened -into a tender and pensive mood. He did not move as Hugh sat down in a -big chair on the other side of the hearth and said softly, "Thinking?" - -"Un-huh. Where you been?" - -"Across the hall in Morse's room." Then as Carl looked up in surprise, -he told him of his experience with their red-headed neighbor. "He'll get -over it," he concluded confidently. "He's just been lonely." - -Carl puffed contemplatively at his pipe for a few minutes before -replying. Hugh waited, watching the slender boy stretched out in a big -chair before the fire, his ankles crossed, his face gentle and boyish in -the ruddy, flickering light. The shadows, heavy and wavering, played -magic with the room; it was vast, mysterious. - -"No," said Carl, pausing again to puff his pipe; "no, he won't get over -it. He'll go home." - -"Aw, shucks. A big guy like that isn't going to stay a baby all his -life." Hugh was frankly derisive. "Soon as he gets to know a lot of -fellows, he'll forget home and mother." - -Carl smiled vaguely, his eyes dreamy as he gazed into the hypnotizing -flames. The mask of sophistication had slipped off his face; he was -pleasantly in the control of a gentle mood, a mood that erased the last -vestige of protective coloring. - -He shook his head slowly. "You don't understand, Hugh. Morse is sick, -_sick_--not lonesome. He's got something worse than flu. Nobody can -stand what he's got." - -Hugh looked at him in bewilderment. This was a new Carl, some one he -hadn't met before. Gone was the slang flippancy, the hard roughness. -Even his voice was softened. - -Carl knocked his pipe empty on the knob of an andiron, sank deeper into -his chair, and began to speak slowly. - -"I think I'm going to tell you a thing or two about myself. We've got to -room together, and I--well, I like you. You're a good egg, but you don't -get me at all. I guess you've never run up against anybody like me -before." He paused. Hugh said nothing, afraid to break into Carl's mood. -He was intensely curious. He leaned forward and watched Carl, who was -staring dreamily into the fire. - -"I told you once, I think," he continued, "that my old man had left us a -lot of jack. That's true. We're rich, awfully rich. I have my own -account and can spend as much as I like. The sky's the limit. What I -didn't tell you is that we're _nouveau riche_--no class at all. My old -man made all his money the first year of the war. He was a -commission-merchant, a middleman. Money just rolled in, I guess. He -bought stocks with it, and they boomed; and he had sense enough to sell -them when they were at the top. Six years ago we didn't have hardly -anything. Now we're rich." - -"My old man was a good scout, but he didn't have much education; neither -has the old lady. Both of 'em went through grammar-school; that's all." - -"Well, they knew they weren't real folks, not regular people, and they -wanted me to be. See? That's why they sent me to Kane. Well, Kane isn't -strong for _nouveau riche_ kids, not by a damn sight. At first old -Simmonds--he's the head master--wouldn't take me, said that he didn't -have room; but my old man begged and begged, so finally Simmonds said -all right." - -Again he paused, and Hugh waited. Carl was speaking so softly that he -had trouble in hearing him, but somehow he didn't dare to ask him to -speak louder. - -"I sha'n't forget the day," Carl went on, "that the old man left me at -Kane. I was scared, and I didn't want to stay. But he made me; he said -that Kane would make a gentleman out of me. I was homesick, homesick as -hell. I know how Morse feels. I tried to run away three times, but they -caught me and brought me back. Cry? I bawled all the time when I was -alone. I couldn't sleep for weeks; I just laid in bed and bawled. God! -it was awful. The worst of it was the meals. I didn't know how to eat -right, you see, and the master who sat at the table with our form would -correct me. I used to want to die, and sometimes I would say that I was -sick and didn't want any food so that I wouldn't have to go to meals. -The fellows razzed the life out of me; some of 'em called me Paddy. The -reason I came here to Sanford was that no Kane fellows come here. They -go mostly to Williams, but some of 'em go to Yale or Princeton. - -"Well, I had four years of that, and I was homesick the whole four -years. Oh, I don't mean that they kept after me all the time--that was -just the first few months--but they never really accepted me. I never -felt at home. Even when I was with a bunch of them, I felt lonesome.... -And they never made a gentleman out of me, though my old lady thinks -they did." - -"You're crazy," Hugh interrupted indignantly. "You're as much a -gentleman as anybody in college." - -Carl smiled and shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You're a -gentleman, but I'm not. Oh, I know all the tricks, the parlor stunts. -Four years at Kane taught me those, but they're just tricks to me. I -don't know just how to explain it--but I know that you're a gentleman -and I'm not." - -"You're just plain bug-house. You make me feel like a fish. Why, I'm -just from a country high school. I'm not in your class." Hugh sat up -and leaned eagerly toward Carl, gesticulating excitedly. - -"As if that made any difference," Carl replied, his voice sharp with -scorn. "You see, I'm a bad egg. I drink and gamble and pet. I haven't -gone the limit yet on--on account of my old lady--but I will." - -Hugh was relieved. He had wondered more than once during the past week -"just how far Carl had gone." Several times Carl had suggested by sly -innuendos that there wasn't anything that he hadn't done, and Hugh had -felt a slight disapproval--and considerable envy. His own standards were -very high, very strict, but he was ashamed to reveal them. - -"I've never gone the limit either," he confessed shyly. - -Carl threw back his head and laughed. "You poor fish; don't you suppose -I know that?" he exclaimed. - -"How did you know?" Hugh demanded indignantly. "I might've. Why, I was -out with a girl just before I left home and--" - -"You kissed her," Carl concluded for him. "I don't know how I knew, but -I did. You're just kinda pure; that's all. I'm not pure at all; I'm just -a little afraid--and I keep thinkin' of my old lady. I've started to -several times, but I've always thought of her and quit." - -He sat silent for a minute or two and then continued more gently. "My -old lady never came to Kane. She never will come here, either. She wants -to give me a real chance. See? She knows she isn't a lady--but--but, oh, -God, Hugh, she's white, white as hell. I guess I think more of her than -all the rest of the world put together. That's why I write to her every -night. She writes to me every day, too. The letters have mistakes in -them, but--but they keep me straight. That is, they have so far. I know, -though, that some night I'll be out with a bag and get too much liquor -in me--and then good-by, virginity." - -"You're crazy, Carl. You know you won't." Carl rose from the chair and -stretched hugely. "You're a good egg, Hugh," he said in the midst of a -yawn, "but you're a damn fool." - -Hugh started. That was just what he had said to Morse. - - * * * * * - -He never caught Carl in a confidential mood again. The next morning he -was his old flippant self, swearing because he had to study his Latin, -which wasn't "of any damned use to anybody." - -In the following weeks Hugh religiously clung to Morse, helped him with -his work, went to the movies with him, inveigled him into going on -several long walks. Morse was more cheerful and almost pathetically -grateful. One day, however, Hugh found an unstamped letter on the -floor. He opened it wonderingly. - - - Dear Hugh [he read]. You've been awfully good to me but - I can't stand it. I'm going home to-day. Give my regards - to Peters. Thanks for all you've done for me. - - BERT MORSE. - - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -For a moment after reading Morse's letter Hugh was genuinely sorry, but -almost immediately he felt irritated and hurt. - -He handed the letter to Carl, who entered just as he finished reading -it, and exploded: "The simp! And after I wasted so much time on him." - -Carl read the letter. "I told you so." He smiled impishly. "You were the -wise boy; you _knew_ that he would get over it." - -Hugh should really have felt grateful to Morse. It was only a feeling of -responsibility for him that had made Hugh prepare his own lessons. Day -after day he had studied with Morse in order to cheer him up; and that -was all the studying he had done. Latin and history had little -opportunity to claim his interest in competition with the excitement -around him. - -Crossing the campus for the first few weeks of college was an adventure -for every freshman. He did not know when he would be seized by a howling -group of sophomores and forced to make an ass of himself for their -amusement. Sometimes he was required to do "esthetic dancing," sometimes -to sing, or, what was more common, to make a speech. And no matter how -hard he tried, the sophomores were never pleased. If he danced, they -laughed at him, guyed him unmercifully, called attention to his legs, -his awkwardness, urged him to go faster, insisted that he get some -"pash" into it. If he sang, and the frightened freshman usually sang off -key, they interrupted him after a few notes, told him to sing something -else, interrupted that, and told him "for God's sake" to dance. The -speech-making, however, provided the most fun, especially if the -freshman was cleverer than his captors. Then there was a battle of wits, -and if the freshman too successfully defeated his opponents, he was -dropped into a watering-trough that had stood on the campus for more -than a century. Of justice there was none, but of sport there was a -great plenty. The worst scared of the freshmen really enjoyed the -experience. By a strange sort of inverted logic, he felt that he was -something of a hero; at least, for a brief time he had occupied the -public eye. He had been initiated; he was a Sanford man. - -One freshman, however, found those two weeks harrowing. That was Merton -Billings, the fat man of the class. Day after day he was captured by the -sophomores and commanded to dance. He was an earnest youth and entirely -without a sense of humor. Dancing to him was not only hard work but -downright wicked. He was a member of the Epworth League, and he took his -membership seriously. Even David, he remembered, had "got in wrong" -because he danced; and he had no desire to emulate David. Within two -days the sophomores discovered his religious ardor, his horror of -drinking, smoking, and dancing. So they made him dance while they howled -with glee at his bobbing stomach; his short, staggering legs; his red -jowls, jigging and jouncing; his pale blue eyes, protruding excitedly -from their sockets; his lips pressed tight together, periodically -popping open for breath. He was very funny, very angry, and very much -ashamed. Every night he prayed that he might be forgiven his sin. A -month later when the intensity of his hatred had subsided somewhat, he -remembered to his horror that he had not prayed that his tormentors be -forgiven their even greater sin. He rectified the error without delay, -not neglecting to ask that the error be forgiven, too. - -Hugh was forced to sing, to dance, and to make a speech, but he escaped -the watering-trough. He thought the fellows were darned nice to let him -off, and they thought that he was too darned nice to be ducked. Although -Hugh didn't suspect it, he was winning immediate popularity. His shy, -friendly smile, his natural modesty, and his boyish enthusiasm were -making a host of friends for him. He liked the "initiations" on the -campus, but he did not like some of them in the dormitories. He didn't -mind being pulled out of bed and shoved under a cold shower. He took a -cold shower every morning, and if the sophomores wanted to give him -another one at night--all right, he was willing. He had to confess that -"Eliza Crossing the Ice" had been enormous fun. The freshmen were -commanded to appear in the common room in their oldest clothes. Then all -of them, the smallest lad excepted, got down on their hands and knees, -forming a circle. The smallest lad, "Eliza," was given a big bucket full -of water. He jumped upon the back of the man nearest to him and ran -wildly around the circle, leaping from back to back, the bucket swinging -crazily, the water splashing in every direction and over everybody. - -Hugh liked such "stunts," and he liked putting on a show with three -other freshmen for the amusement of their peers, but he did object to -the vulgarity and cruelty of much that was done. - -The first order the sophomores often gave was, "Strip, freshman." Just -why the freshmen had to be naked before they performed, Hugh did not -know, but there was something phallic about the proceedings that -disgusted him. Like every athlete, he thought nothing of nudity, but he -soon discovered that some of the freshmen were intensely conscious of -it. True, a few months in the gymnasium cured them of that -consciousness, but at first many of them were eternally wrapping towels -about themselves in the gymnasium, and they took a shower as if it were -an act of public shame. The sophomores recognized the timidity that some -of the freshmen had in revealing their bodies, and they made full -capital of it. The shyer the freshman, the more pointed their remarks, -the more ingeniously nasty their tricks. - -"I don't mind the razzing myself," Hugh told Carl after one particularly -strenuous evening, "but I don't like the things they said to poor little -Wilkins. And when they stripped 'em and made Wilkins read that dirty -story to Culver, I wanted to fight" - -"It was kinda rotten," Carl agreed, "but it was funny." - -"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh said angrily. - -Carl looked at him in surprise. It was the first time that he had seen -him aroused. - -"It wasn't funny at all," Hugh repeated; "it was just filthy. I'd 'a' -just about died if I'd 'a' been in Wilkins's place. The poor kid! -They're too damn dirty, these sophomores. I didn't think that college -men could be so dirty. Why, not even the bums at home would think of -such things. And I'm telling you right now that there are three of those -guys that I'm layin' for. Just wait till the class rush. I'm going to -get Adams, and then I'm going to get Cooper--yes, I'm going to get him -even if he is bigger'n me--and I'm going to get Dodge. I didn't say -anything when they made me wash my face in the toilet bowl, but, by God! -I'm going to get 'em for it." - -Three weeks later he made good this threat. He was a clever boxer, and -he succeeded in separating each of the malefactors from the fighting -mob. He would have been completely nonplussed if he could have heard -Adams and Dodge talking in their room after the rush. - -"Who gave you the black eye?" Adams asked Dodge. - -"That freshman Carver," he replied, touching the eye gingerly. "Who gave -you that welt on the chin?" - -"Carver! And, say, he beat Hi Cooper to a pulp. He's a mess." - -They looked at each other and burst out laughing. - -"Lord," said Dodge, "I'm going to pick my freshmen next time. Who'd take -a kid with a smile like his to be a scrapper? He's got the nicest smile -in college. Why, he looks meek as a lamb." - -"You never can tell," remarked Adams, rubbing his chin ruefully. - -Dodge was examining his eye in the mirror. "No, you never can tell.... -Damn it, I'm going to have to get a beefsteak or something for this lamp -of mine." - -"Say, he ought to be a good man for the fraternity," Adams said -suddenly. - -"Who?" Dodge's eye was absorbing his entire attention. - -"Carver, of course. He ought to make a damn good man." - -"Yeah--you bet. We've got to rush him sure." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -The dormitory initiations had more than angered Hugh; they had -completely upset his mental equilibrium: his every ideal of college -swayed and wabbled. He wasn't a prig, but he had come to Sanford with -very definite ideas about the place, and those ideas were already groggy -from the unmerciful pounding they were receiving. - -His father was responsible for his illusions, if one may call them -illusions. Mr. Carver was a shy, sensitive man well along in his -fifties, with a wife twelve years his junior. He pretended to cultivate -his small farm in Merrytown, but as a matter of fact he lived off of a -comfortable income left him by his very capable father. He spent most of -his time reading the eighteenth-century essayists, John Donne's poetry, -the "Atlantic Monthly," the "Boston Transcript," and playing Mozart on -his violin. He did not understand his wife and was thoroughly afraid of -his son; Hugh had an animal vigor that at times almost terrified him. - -At his wife's insistence he had a talk with Hugh the night before the -boy left for college. Hugh had wanted to run when he met his father in -the library after dinner for that talk. He loved the gentle, gray-haired -man with the fine, delicate features and soft voice. He had often wished -that he knew his father. Mr. Carver was equally eager to know Hugh, but -he had no idea of how to go about getting acquainted with his son. - -They sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, and Mr. Carver gazed -thoughtfully at the boy. Why hadn't Betty had this talk with Hugh? She -knew him so much better than he did; they were more like brother and -sister than mother and son. Why, Hugh called her Betty half the time, -and she seemed to understand him perfectly. - -Hugh waited silently. Mr. Carver ran a thin hand through his hair and -then sharply desisted; he mustn't let the boy know that he was nervous. -Then he settled his horn-rimmed pince-nez more firmly on his nose and -felt in his waistcoat for a cigar. Why didn't Hugh say something? He -snipped the end of the cigar with a silver knife. Slowly he lighted the -cigar, inhaled once or twice, coughed mildly, and finally found his -voice. - -"Well, Hugh," he said in his gentle way. - -"Well, Dad." Hugh grinned sheepishly. Then they both started; Hugh had -never called his father Dad before. He thought of him that way always, -but he could never bring himself to dare anything but the more formal -Father. In his embarrassment he had forgotten himself. - -"I--I--I'm sorry, sir," he stuttered, flushing painfully. - -Mr. Carver laughed to hide his own embarrassment. "That's all right, -Hugh." His smile was very kindly. "Let it be Dad. I think I like it -better." - -"That's fine!" Hugh exclaimed. - -The tension was broken, and Mr. Carver began to give the dreaded talk. - -"I hardly know what to say to you, Hugh," he began, "on the eve of your -going away to college. There is so much that you ought to know, and I -have no idea of how much you know already." - -Hugh thought of all the smutty stories he had heard--and told. -Instinctively he knew that his father referred to what a local doctor -called "the facts of life." - -He hung his head and said gruffly, "I guess I know a good deal--Dad." - -"That's splendid!" Mr. Carver felt the full weight of a father's -responsibilities lifted from his shoulders. "I believe Dr. Hanson gave -you a talk at school about--er, sex, didn't he?" - -"Yes, sir." Hugh was picking out the design in the rug with the toe of -his shoe and at the same time unconsciously pinching his leg. He pinched -so hard that he afterward found a black and blue spot, but he never -knew how it got there. - -"Excellent thing, excellent thing, these talks by medical men." He was -beginning to feel at ease. "Excellent thing. I am glad that you are so -well informed; you are old enough." - -Hugh wasn't well informed; he was pathetically ignorant. Most of what he -knew had come from the smutty stories, and he often did not understand -the stories that he laughed at most heartily. He was consumed with -curiosity. - -"If there is anything you want to know, don't hesitate to ask," his -father continued. He had a moment of panic lest Hugh would ask -something, but the boy merely shook his head--and pinched his leg. - -Mr. Carver puffed his cigar in great relief. "Well," he continued, "I -don't want to give you much advice, but your mother feels that I ought -to tell you a little more about college before you leave. As I have told -you before, Sanford is a splendid place, a--er, a splendid place. Fine -old traditions and all that sort of thing. Splendid place. You will find -a wonderful faculty, wonderful. Most of the professors I had are gone, -but I am sure that the new ones are quite as good. Your opportunities -will be enormous, and I am sure that you will take advantage of them. We -have been very proud of your high school record, your mother and I, and -we know that you will do quite as well in college. By the way, I hope -you take a course in the eighteenth-century essayists; you will find -them very stimulating--Addison especially. - -"I--er, your mother feels that I ought to say something about the -dissipations of college. I--I'm sure that I don't know what to say. I -suppose that there are young men in college who dissipate--remember that -I knew one or two--but certainly most of them are gentlemen. Crude -men--vulgarians do not commonly go to college. Vulgarity has no place in -college. You may, I presume, meet some men not altogether admirable, but -it will not be necessary for you to know them. Now, as to the -fraternity...." - -Hugh forgot to pinch his leg and looked up with avid interest in his -face. The Nu Deltas! - -Mr. Carver leaned forward to stir the fire with a brass poker before he -continued. Then he settled back in his chair and smoked comfortably. He -was completely at ease now. The worst was over. - -"I have written to the Nu Deltas about you and told them that I hoped -that they would find you acceptable, as I am sure they will. As a -legacy, you will be among the first considered." For an hour more he -talked about the fraternity. Hugh, his embarrassment swallowed by his -interest, eagerly asking questions. His father's admiration for the -fraternity was second only to his admiration for the college, and -before the evening was over he had filled Hugh with an idolatry for -both. - -He left his father that night feeling closer to him than he ever had -before. He was going to be a college man like his father--perhaps a Nu -Delta, too. He wished that they had got chummy before. When he went to -bed, he lay awake dreaming, thinking sometimes of Helen Simpson and of -how he had kissed her that afternoon, but more often of Sanford and Nu -Delta. He was so deeply grateful to his father for talking to him -frankly and telling him everything about college. He was darned lucky to -have a father who was a college grad and could put him wise. It was -pretty tough on the fellows whose fathers had never been to college. -Poor fellows, they didn't know the ropes the way he did.... - -He finally fell off to sleep, picturing himself in the doorway of the Nu -Delta house welcoming his father to a reunion. - -That talk was returning to Hugh repeatedly. He wondered if Sanford had -changed since his father's day or if his father had just forgotten what -college was like. Everything seemed so different from what he had been -told to expect. Perhaps he was just soft and some of the fellows weren't -as crude as he thought they were. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -Hugh was by no means continuously depressed; as a matter of fact, most -of the time he was agog with delight, especially over the rallies that -were occurring with increasing frequency as the football season -progressed. Sometimes the rallies were carefully prepared ceremonies -held in the gymnasium; sometimes they were entirely spontaneous. - -A group of men would rush out of a dormitory or fraternity house -yelling, "Peerade, peerade!" Instantly every one within hearing would -drop his books--or his cards--and rush to the yelling group, which would -line up in fours and begin circling the campus, the line ever getting -longer as more men came running out of the dormitories and fraternity -houses. On, on they would go, arm in arm, dancing, singing Sanford -songs, past every dormitory on the campus, past every fraternity -house--pausing occasionally to give a cheer, always, however, keeping -one goal in mind, the fraternity house where the team lived during the -football season. Then when the cheer-leaders and the team were heading -the procession, the mob would make for the football field, with the cry -of "Wood, freshmen, wood!" ringing down the line. - -Hugh was always one of the first freshmen to break from the line in his -eagerness to get wood. In an incredibly short time he and his classmates -had found a large quantity of old lumber, empty boxes, rotten planks, -and not very rotten gates. When a light was applied to the clumsy pile -of wood, the flames leaped up quickly--some one always seemed to have a -supply of kerosene ready--and revealed the excited upper-classmen -sitting on the bleachers. - -"Dance, freshmen, dance!" - -Then the freshmen danced around the fire, holding hands and spreading -into an ever widening circle as the fire crackled and the flames leaped -upward. Slowly, almost impressively, the upper-classmen chanted: - - - "Round the fire, the freshmen go, - Freshmen go, - Freshmen go; - Round the fire the freshmen go - To cheer Sanford." - - -The song had a dozen stanzas, only the last line of each being -different. The freshmen danced until the last verse was sung, which -ended with the Sanford cheer: - - - "Closer now the freshmen go, - Freshmen go, - Freshmen go; - Closer now the freshmen go - To cheer-- - - SANFORD! - Sanford! Rah, rah! - Sanford! Sanford! - San--San--San-- - San--ford, San--ford--San--FORD!" - - -While the upper-classmen were singing the last stanza the freshmen -slowly closed in on the dying fire. At the first word of the cheer, they -stopped, turned toward the grand stand, and joined the cheering. That -over, they broke and ran for the bleachers, scrambling up the wooden -stands, shoving each other out of the way, laughing and shouting. - -The football captain usually made a short and very awkward speech, which -was madly applauded; perhaps the coach said a few words; two or three -cheers were given; and finally every one rose, took off his hat if he -wore one--nearly every one but the freshmen went bareheaded--and sang -the college hymn, simply and religiously. Then the crowd broke, -straggling in groups across the campus, chatting, singing, shouting to -each other. Suddenly lights began to flash in the dormitory windows. In -less than an hour after the first cry of "Peerade!" the men were back -in their rooms, once more studying, talking, or playing cards. - -It was the smoker rallies, though, that Hugh found the most thrilling, -especially the last one before the final game of the season, the "big -game" with Raleigh College. There were 1123 students in Sanford, and -more than 1000 were at the rally. A rough platform had been built at one -end of the gymnasium. On one side of it sat the band, on the other side -the Glee Club--and before it the mass of students, smoking cigarettes, -corn-cob pipes, and, occasionally, a cigar. The "smokes" had been -furnished free by a local tobacconist; so everybody smoked violently and -too much. In half an hour it was almost impossible to see the ceiling -through the dull blue haze, and the men in the rear of the gymnasium saw -the speakers on the platform dimly through a wavering mist. - -The band played various Sanford songs, and everybody sang. Occasionally -Wayne Gifford, the cheer-leader, leaped upon the platform, raised a -megaphone to his mouth, and shouted, "A regular cheer for Sanford--a -regular cheer for Sanford." Then he lifted his arms above his head, -flinging the megaphone aside with the same motion, and waited tense and -rigid until the students were on their feet. Suddenly he turned into a -mad dervish, twisting, bending, gesticulating, leaping, running back and -forth across the platform, shouting, and finally throwing his hands -above his head and springing high into the air at the concluding -"San--FORD!" - -The Glee Club sang to mad applause; a tenor twanged a ukulele and moaned -various blues; a popular professor told stories, some of them funny, -most of them slightly off color; a former cheer-leader told of the -triumphs of former Sanford teams--and the atmosphere grew denser and -denser, bluer and bluer, as the smoke wreathed upward. The thousand boys -leaned intently forward, occasionally jumping to their feet to shout and -cheer, and then sinking back into their chairs, tense and excited. As -each speaker mounted the platform they shouted: "Off with your coat! Off -with your coat!" And the speakers, even the professor, had to shed their -coats before they were permitted to say a word. - -When the team entered, bedlam broke loose. Every student stood on his -chair, waved his arms, slapped his neighbor on the back or hugged him -wildly, threw his hat in the air, if he had one--and, so great was his -training, keeping an eye on the cheer-leader, who was on the platform -going through a series of indescribable contortions. Suddenly he -straightened up, held his hands above his head again, and shouted -through his megaphone: "A regular cheer for the team--a regular cheer -for the team. Make it big--BIG! Ready--!" Away whirled the megaphone, -and he went through exactly the same performance that he had used before -in conducting the regular cheer. Gifford looked like an inspired madman, -but he knew exactly what he was doing. The students cheered lustily, so -lustily that some of them were hoarse the next day. They continued to -yell after the cheer was completed, ceasing only when Gifford signaled -for silence. - -Then there were speeches by each member of the team, all -enthusiastically applauded, and finally the speech of the evening, that -of the coach, Jack Price. He was a big, compactly built man with regular -features, heavy blond hair, and pale, cold blue eyes. He threw off his -coat with a belligerent gesture, stuck his hands into his trousers -pockets, and waited rigidly until the cheering had subsided. Then he -began: - -"Go ahead and yell. It's easy as hell to cheer here in the gym; but what -are you going to do Saturday afternoon?" - -His voice was sharp with sarcasm, and to the shouts of "Yell! Fight!" -that came from all over the gymnasium, he answered, "Yeah, -maybe--maybe." He shifted his position, stepping toward the front of the -platform, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. - -"I've seen a lot of football games, and I've seen lots of rooters, but -this is the goddamndest gang of yellow-bellied quitters that I've ever -seen. What happened last Saturday when we were behind? I'm asking you; -what happened? You quit! Quit like a bunch of whipped curs. God! you're -yellow, yellow as hell. But the team went on fighting--and it won, won -in spite of you, won for a bunch of yellow pups. And why? Because the -team's got guts. And when it was all over, you cheered and howled and -serpentined and felt big as hell. Lord Almighty! you acted as if you'd -done something." - -His right hand came out of his pocket with a jerk, and he extended a -fighting, clenched fist toward his breathless audience. "I'll tell you -something," he said slowly, viciously; "the team can't win alone day -after to-morrow. _It can't win alone!_ You've got to fight. Damn it! -_You've got to fight!_ Raleigh's good, damn good; it hasn't lost a game -this season--and we've got to win, _win_! Do you hear? We've got to win! -And there's only one way that we can win, and that's with every man back -of the team. Every goddamned mother's son of you. The team's good, but -it can't win unless you fight--_fight_!" - -Suddenly his voice grew softer, almost gentle. He held out both hands to -the boys, who had become so tense that they had forgotten to smoke. -"We've got to win, fellows, for old Sanford. Are you back of us?" - -"Yes!" The tension shattered into a thousand yells. The boys leaped on -the chairs and shouted until they could shout no more. When Gifford -called for "a regular cheer for Jack Price" and then one for the -team--"Make it the biggest you ever gave"--they could respond with only -a hoarse croak. - -Finally the hymn was sung--at least, the boys tried loyally to sing -it--and they stood silent and almost reverent as the team filed out of -the gymnasium. - -Hugh walked back to Surrey Hall with several men. No one said a word -except a quiet good night as they parted. Carl was in the room when he -arrived. He sank into a chair and was silent for a few minutes. - -Finally he said in a happy whisper, "Wasn't it wonderful, Carl?" - -"Un-huh. Damn good." - -"Gosh, I hope we win. We've _got_ to!" - -Carl looked up, his cheeks redder than usual, his eyes glittering. "God, -yes!" he breathed piously. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -The football season lasted from the first of October to the latter part -of November, and during those weeks little was talked about, or even -thought about, on the campus but football. There were undergraduates who -knew the personnel of virtually every football team in the country, the -teams that had played against each other, their relative merits, the -various scores, the outstanding players of each position. Half the -students at Sanford regularly made out "All American" teams, and each -man was more than willing to debate the quality of his team against that -of any other. Night after night the students gathered in groups in -dormitory rooms and fraternity houses, discussing football, football, -football; even religion and sex, the favorite topics for "bull -sessions," could not compete with football, especially when some one -mentioned Raleigh College. Raleigh was Sanford's ancient rival; to -defeat her was of cosmic importance. - -There was a game every Saturday. About half the time the team played at -home; the other games were played on the rivals' fields. No matter how -far away the team traveled, the college traveled with it. The men who -had the necessary money went by train; a few owned automobiles: but most -of the undergraduates had neither an automobile nor money for train -fare. They "bummed" their way. Some of them emulated professional -tramps, and "rode the beams," but most of them started out walking, -trusting that kind-hearted motorists would pick them up and carry them -at least part way to their destination. Although the distances were -sometimes great, and although many motorists are not kind, there is no -record of any man who ever started for a game not arriving in time for -the referee's first whistle. Somehow, by hook or by crook--and it was -often by crook--the boys got there, and, what is more astonishing, they -got back. On Monday morning at 8:45 they were in chapel, usually worn -and tired, it is true, ready to bluff their way through the day's -assignments, and damning any instructor who was heartless enough to give -them a quiz. Some of them were worn out from really harsh traveling -experiences; some of them had more exciting adventures to relate behind -closed doors to selected groups of confidants. - -Football! Nothing else mattered. And as the weeks passed, the excitement -grew, especially as the day drew near for the Raleigh game, which this -year was to be played on the Sanford field. What were Sanford's chances? -Would Harry Slade, Sanford's great half-back, make All American? "Damn -it to hell, he ought to. It'll be a stinkin' shame if he don't." Would -Raleigh's line be able to stop Slade's end runs? Slade! Slade! He was -the team, the hope and adoration of the whole college. - -Three days before the "big game" the alumni began to pour into town, -most of them fairly recent graduates, but many of them gray-haired men -who boasted that they hadn't missed a Sanford-Raleigh game in thirty -years. Hundreds of alumni arrived, filling the two hotels to capacity -and overrunning the fraternity houses, the students doubling up or -seeking hospitality from a friend in a dormitory. - -In the little room in the rear of the Sanford Pool and Billiard Parlors -there was almost continual excitement. Jim McCarty, the proprietor, a -big, jovial, red-faced man whom all the students called Mac, was the -official stake-holder for the college. Bets for any amount could be -placed with him. Money from Raleigh flowed into his pudgy hands, and he -placed it at the odds offered with eager Sanford takers. By the day of -the game his safe held thousands of dollars, most of it wagered at five -to three, Raleigh offering odds. There was hardly an alumnus who did not -prove his loyalty to Sanford by visiting Mac's back room and putting -down a few greenbacks, at least. Some were more loyal than others; the -most loyal placed a thousand dollars--at five to two. - -There was rain for two days before the game, but on Friday night the -clouds broke. A full moon seemed to shine them away, and the whole -campus rejoiced with great enthusiasm. Most of the alumni got drunk to -show their deep appreciation to the moon, and many of the undergraduates -followed the example set by their elders. - -All Friday afternoon girls had been arriving, dozens of them, to attend -the fraternity dances. One dormitory had been set aside for them, the -normal residents seeking shelter in other dormitories. No man ever -objected to resigning his room to a girl. He never could tell what he -would find when he returned to it Monday morning. Some of the girls left -strange mementos.... - -No one except a few notorious grinds studied that night. Some of the -students were, of course, at the fraternity dances; some of them sat in -dormitory rooms and discussed the coming game from every possible angle; -and groups of them wandered around the campus, peering into the -fraternity houses, commenting on the girls, wandering on humming a song -that an orchestra had been playing, occasionally pausing to give a -"regular cheer" for the moon. - -Hugh was too much excited to stay in a room; so with several other -freshmen he traveled the campus. He passionately envied the dancers in -the fraternity houses but consoled himself with the thought, "Maybe -I'll be dancing at the Nu Delt house next year." Then he had a spasm of -fright. Perhaps the Nu Delts--perhaps no fraternity would bid him. The -moon lost its brilliance; for a moment even the Sanford-Raleigh game was -forgotten. - -The boys were standing before a fraternity house, and as the music -ceased, Jack Collings suggested: "Let's serenade them. You lead, Hugh." - -Hugh had a sweet, light tenor voice. It was not at all remarkable, just -clear and true; but he had easily made the Glee Club and had an -excellent chance to be chosen freshman song-leader. - -Collings had brought a guitar with him. He handed it to Hugh, who, like -most musical undergraduates, could play both a guitar and a banjo. "Sing -that 'I arise from dreams of thee' thing that you were singing the other -night. We'll hum." - -Hugh slipped the cord around his neck, tuned the guitar, and then -thrummed a few opening chords. His heart was beating at double time; he -was very happy: he was serenading girls at a fraternity dance. Couples -were strolling out upon the veranda, the girls throwing warm wraps over -their shoulders, the men lighting cigarettes and tossing the burnt -matches on the lawn. Their white shirt-fronts gleamed eerily in the pale -light cast by the Japanese lanterns with which the veranda was hung. - -Hugh began to sing Shelley's passionate lyric, set so well to music by -Tod B. Galloway. His mother had taught him the song, and he loved it. - - - "I arise from dreams of thee - In the first sweet sleep of night, - When the winds are breathing low - And the stars are shining bright. - I arise from dreams of thee, - And a spirit in my feet - Hath led me--who knows how? - To thy chamber-window, Sweet!" - - -Two of the boys, who had heard Hugh sing the song before, hummed a soft -accompaniment. When he began the second verse several more began to hum; -they had caught the melody. The couples on the veranda moved quietly to -the porch railing, their chatter silent, their attention focused on a -group of dim figures standing in the shadow of an elm. Hugh was singing -well, better than he ever had before. Neither he nor his audience knew -that the lyric was immortal, but its tender, passionate beauty caught -and held them. - - - "The wandering airs they faint - On the dark, the silent stream-- - The champak odors fail - Like sweet-thoughts in a dream; - The nightingale's complaint - It dies upon her heart, - As I must die on thine - O beloved as thou art! - - "Oh lift me from the grass! - I die, I faint, I fail! - Let thy love in kisses rain - On my cheeks and eyelids pale. - My cheek is cold and white, alas! - My heart beats loud and fast; - Oh! press it close to thine again - Where it will break at last." - - -There was silence for a moment after Hugh finished. The shadows, the -moonlight, the boy's soft young voice had moved them all. Suddenly a -girl on the veranda cried, "Bring him up!" Instantly half a dozen others -turned to their escorts, insisting shrilly: "Bring him up. We want to -see him." - -Hugh jerked the guitar cord from around his neck, banded the instrument -to Collings, and tried to run. A burst of laughter went up from the -freshmen. They caught him and held him fast until the Tuxedo-clad -upper-classmen rushed down from the veranda and had him by the arms. -They pulled him, protesting and struggling, upon the veranda and into -the living-room. - -The girls gathered around him, praising, demanding more. He flushed -scarlet when one enthusiastic maiden forced her way through the ring, -looked hard at him, and then announced positively, "I think he's sweet." -He was intensely embarrassed, in an agony of confusion--but very happy. -The girls liked his clean blondness, his blushes, his startled smile. -How long they would have held him there in the center of the ring while -they admired and teased him, there is no telling; but suddenly the -orchestra brought relief by striking up a fox-trot. - -"He's mine!" cried a pretty black-eyed girl with a cloud of bobbed hair -and flaming cheeks. Her slender shoulders were bare; her round white -arms waved in excited, graceful gestures; her corn-colored frock was a -gauzy mist. She clutched Hugh's arm. "He's mine," she repeated shrilly. -"He's going to dance with me." - -Hugh's cheeks burned a deeper scarlet. "My clothes," he muttered, -hesitating. - -"Your clothes! My dear, you look sweet. Take off your cap and dance with -me." - -Hugh snatched off his cap, his mind reeling with shame, but he had no -time to think. The girl pulled him through the crowd to a clear floor. -Almost mechanically, Hugh put his arm around her and began to dance. He -_could_ dance, and the girl had sense enough not to talk. She floated in -his arm, her slender body close to his. When the music ceased, she -clapped her little hands excitedly and told Hugh that he danced -"won-der-ful-ly." After the third encore she led him to a dark corner in -the hall. - -"You're sweet, honey," she said softly. She turned her small, glowing -face up to his. "Kiss me," she commanded. - -Dazed, Hugh gathered her into his arms and kissed her little red mouth. -She clung to him for a minute and then pushed him gently away. - -"Good night, honey," she whispered. - -"Good night." Hugh's voice broke huskily. He turned and walked rapidly -down the hall, upon the veranda, and down the steps. His classmates were -waiting for him. They rushed up to him, demanding that he tell them what -had happened. - -He told them most of it, especially about the dance; but he neglected to -mention the kiss. Shyness overcame any desire that he had to strut. -Besides, there was something about that kiss that made it impossible for -him to tell any one, even Carl. When he went to bed that night, he did -not think once about the coming football game. Before his eyes floated -the girl in the corn-colored frock. He wished he knew her name.... -Closer and closer she came to him. He could feel her cool arms around -his neck. "What a wonderful, wonderful girl! Sweeter than Helen--lots -sweeter.... She's like the night--and moonlight.... Like moonlight -and--" The music of the "Indian Serenade" began to thrill through his -mind: - - - "I arise from dreams of thee - In the first sweet sleep of night.... - - -Oh, she's sweet, sweet--like music and moonlight...." He fell asleep, -repeating "music and moonlight" over and over again--"music and -moonlight...." - - * * * * * - -The morning of the "big game" proved ideal, crisp and cold, crystal -clear. Indian summer was near its close, but there was still something -of its dreamy wonder in the air, and the hills still flamed with -glorious autumn foliage. The purples, the mauves, the scarlets, the -burnt oranges were a little dimmed, a little less brilliant--the leaves -were rustling dryly now--but there was beauty in dying autumn, its -splendor slowly fading, as there was in its first startling burst of -color. - -Classes that Saturday morning were a farce, but they were held; the -administration, which the boys damned heartily, insisted upon it. Some -of the instructors merely took the roll and dismissed their classes, -feeling that honor had been satisfied; but others held their classes -through the hour, lecturing the disgusted students on their lack of -interest, warning them that examinations weren't as far off as the -millennium. - -Hugh felt that he was lucky; he had only one class--it was with Alling -in Latin--and it had been promptly dismissed. "When the day comes," said -Alling, "that Latin can compete with football, I'll--well, I'll probably -get a living wage. You had better go before I get to talking about a -living wage. It is one of my favorite topics." He waved his hand toward -the door; the boys roared with delight and rushed out of the room, -shoving each other and laughing. They ran out of the building; all of -them were too excited to walk. - -By half-past one the stands were filled. Most of the girls wore fur -coats, as did many of the alumni, but the students sported no such -luxuries; nine tenths of them wore "baa-baa coats," gray jackets lined -with sheep's wool. Except for an occasional banner, usually carried by a -girl, and the bright hats of the women, there was little color to the -scene. The air was sharp, and the spectators huddled down into their -warm coats. - -The rival cheering sections, seated on opposite sides of the field, -alternated in cheering and singing, each applauding the other's efforts. -The cheering wasn't very good, and the singing was worse; but there was -a great deal of noise, and that was about all that mattered to either -side. - -A few minutes before two, the Raleigh team ran upon the field. The -Raleigh cheering section promptly went mad. When the Sanford team -appeared a minute later, the Sanford cheering section tried its best to -go madder, the boys whistling and yelling like possessed demons. Wayne -Gifford brought them to attention by holding his hands above his head. -He called for the usual regular cheer for the team and then for a short -cheer for each member of it, starting with the captain, Sherman -Walford, and ending with the great half-back, Harry Slade. - -Suddenly there was silence. The toss-up had been completed; the teams -were in position on the field. Slade had finished building a slender -pyramid of mud, on which he had balanced the ball. The referee held up -his hand. "Are you ready, Sanford?" Walford signaled his readiness. "Are -you ready, Raleigh?" - -The shrill blast of the referee's whistle--and the game was on. The -first half was a see-saw up and down the field. Near the end of the half -Raleigh was within twenty yards of the Sanford line. Shouts of "Score! -Score! Score!" went up from the Raleigh rooters, rhythmic, insistent. -"Hold 'em! Hold 'em! Fight! Fight! Fight!" the Sanford cheering section -pleaded, almost sobbing the words. A forward pass skilfully completed -netted Raleigh sixteen yards. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" - -The timekeeper tooted his little horn; the half was over. For a moment -the Sanford boys leaned back exhausted; then they leaped to their feet -and yelled madly, while the Raleigh boys leaned back or against each -other and swore fervently. Within two minutes the tension had departed. -The rival cheering sections alternated in singing songs, applauded each -other vigorously, whistled at a frightened dog that tried to cross the -field and nearly lost its mind entirely when called by a thousand -masters, waited breathlessly when the cheer-leaders announced the -results from other football games that had been telegraphed to the -field, applauded if Harvard was losing, groaned if it wasn't, sang some -more, relaxed and felt consummately happy. - -Sanford immediately took the offensive in the second half. Slade was -consistently carrying the ball. Twice he brought it within Raleigh's -twenty-five-yard line. The first time Raleigh held firm, but the second -time Slade stepped back for a drop-kick. The spectators sat silent, -breathless. The angle was difficult. Could he make it? Would the line -hold? - -Quite calmly Slade waited. The center passed the ball neatly. Slade -turned it in his hands, paid not the slightest attention to the mad -struggle going on a few feet in front of him, dropped the ball--and -kicked. The ball rose in a graceful arc and passed safely between the -goal-posts. - -Every one, men and women alike, the Raleigh adherents excepted, promptly -turned into extraordinarily active lunatics. The women waved their -banners and shrieked, or if they had no banners, they waved their arms -and shrieked; the men danced up and down, yelled, pounded each other on -the back, sometimes wildly embraced--many a woman was kissed by a man -she had never seen before and never would again, nor did she -object--Wayne Gifford was turning handsprings, and many of the students -were feebly fluttering their hands, voiceless, spent with cheering, weak -from excitement. - -Early in the fourth quarter, however, Raleigh got its revenge, carrying -the ball to a touch-down after a series of line rushes. Sanford tried -desperately to score again, but its best efforts were useless against -the Raleigh defense. - -The final whistle blew; and Sanford had lost. Cheering wildly, tossing -their hats into the air, the Raleigh students piled down from the grand -stand upon the field. With the cheer-leaders at the head, waving their -megaphones, the boys rapidly formed into a long line in uneven groups, -holding arms, dancing, shouting, winding in and out around the field, -between the goal-posts, tossing their hats over the bars, waving their -hands at the Sanford men standing despondently in their places--in and -out, in and out, in the triumphant serpentine. Finally they paused, took -off their hats, cheered first their own team, then the Sanford team, and -then sang their hymn while the Sanford men respectfully uncovered, -silent and despairing. - -When the hymn was over, the Sanford men quietly left the grand stand, -quietly formed into a long line in groups of fours, quietly marched to -the college flagpole in the center of the campus. A Sanford banner was -flying from the pole, a blue banner with an orange S. Wayne Gifford -loosened the ropes. Down fluttered the banner, and the boys reverently -took off their hats. Gifford caught the banner before it touched the -ground and gathered it into his arms. The song-leader stepped beside -him. He lifted his hand, sang a note, and then the boys sang with him, -huskily, sadly, some of them with tears streaming down their cheeks: - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true. - Let thy arms enfold us; - Let thy truth uphold us. - Queen of colleges, mother of men-- - Alma mater, Sanford--hail! - Alma mater--Hail!--Hail!" - - -Slowly the circle broke into small groups that straggled wearily across -the campus. Hugh, with two or three others, was walking behind two young -professors--one of them, Alling, the other, Jones of the economics -department. Hugh was almost literally broken-hearted; the defeat lay on -him like an awful sorrow that never could be lifted. Every inch of him -ached, but his despair was greater than his physical pain. The sharp, -clear voice of Jones broke into his half-deadened consciousness. - -"I can't understand all this emotional excitement," said Jones crisply. -"A football game is a football game, not a national calamity. I enjoy -the game myself, but why weep over it? I don't think I ever saw anything -more absurd than those boys singing with tears running into their -mouths." - -Shocked, the boys looked at each other. They started to make angry -remarks but paused as Alling spoke. - -"Of course, what you say, Jones, is quite right," he remarked calmly, -"quite right. But, do you know, I pity you." - -"Alling's a good guy," Hugh told Carl later; "he's human." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -After the Sanford-Raleigh game, the college seemed to be slowly dying. -The boys held countless post-mortems over the game, explaining to each -other just how it had been lost or how it could have been won. They -watched the newspapers eagerly as the sport writers announced their -choice for the so-called All American team. If Slade was on the team, -the writer was conceded to "know his dope"; if Slade wasn't, the writer -was a "dumbbell." But all this pseudo-excitement was merely picking at -the covers; there was no real heart in it. Gradually the football talk -died down; freshmen ceased to write themes about Sanford's great -fighting spirit; sex and religion once more became predominant at the -"bull sessions." - -Studies, too, began to find a place in the sun. Hour examinations were -coming, and most of the boys knew that they were miserably prepared. -Lights were burning in fraternity houses and dormitories until late at -night, and mighty little of their glow was shed on poker parties and -crap games. The college had begun to study. - -When Hugh finally calmed down and took stock, he was horrified and -frightened to discover how far he was behind in all his work. He had -done his lessons sketchily from day to day, but he really knew nothing -about them, and he knew that he didn't. Since Morse's departure, he had -loafed, trusting to luck and the knowledge he had gained in high school. -So far he had escaped a summons from the dean, but he daily expected -one, and the mere thought of hour examinations made him shiver. He -studied hard for a week, succeeding only in getting gloriously confused -and more frightened. The examinations proved to be easier than he had -expected; he didn't fail in any of them, but he did not get a grade -above a C. - -The examination flurry passed, and the college was left cold. Nothing -seemed to happen. The boys went to the movies every night, had a peanut -fight, talked to the shadowy actors; they played cards, pool, and -billiards, or shot craps; Saturday nights many of them went to a dance -at Hastings, a small town five miles away; they held bull sessions and -discussed everything under the sun and some things beyond it; they -attended a performance of Shaw's "Candida" given by the Dramatic Society -and voted it a "wet" show; and, incidentally, some of them studied. But, -all in all, life was rather tepid, and most of the boys were merely -marking time and waiting for Christmas vacation. - -For Hugh the vacation came and went with a rush. It was glorious to get -home again, glorious to see his father and mother, and, at first, -glorious to see Helen Simpson. But Helen had begun to pall; her kisses -hardly compensated for her conversation. She gave him a little feeling -of guilt, too, which he tried to argue away. "Kissing isn't really -wrong. Everybody pets; at least, Carl says they do. Helen likes it -but..." Always that "but" intruded itself. "But it doesn't seem quite -right when--I don't really love her." When he kissed her for the last -time before returning to college, he had a distinct feeling of relief: -well, that would be off his mind for a while, anyway. - -It was a sober, quiet crowd of students--for the first time they were -students--that returned to their desks after the vacation. The final -examinations were ahead of them, less than a month away; and those -examinations hung over their heads like the relentless, glittering blade -of a guillotine. The boys studied. "College life" ceased; there was a -brief period of education. - -Of course, they did not desert the movies, and the snow and ice claimed -them. Part of Indian Lake was scraped free of snow, and every clear -afternoon hundreds of boys skated happily, explaining afterward that -they had to have some exercise if they were going to be able to study. -On those afternoons the lake was a pretty sight, zestful, alive with -color. Many of the men wore blue sweaters, some of them brightly colored -Mackinaws, all of them knitted toques. As soon as the cold weather -arrived, the freshmen had been permitted to substitute blue toques with -orange tassels for their "baby bonnets." The blue and orange stood out -vividly against the white snow-covered hills, and the skates rang -sharply as they cut the glare ice. - -There was snow-shoeing, skiing, and sliding "to keep a fellow fit so -that he could do good work in his exams," but much as the boys enjoyed -the winter sports, a black pall hung over the college as the examination -period drew nearer and nearer. The library, which had been virtually -deserted all term, suddenly became crowded. Every afternoon and evening -its big tables were filled with serious-faced lads earnestly bending -over books, making notes, running their fingers through their hair, -occasionally looking up with dazed eyes, or twisting about miserably. - -The tension grew greater and greater. The upper-classmen were quiet and -businesslike, but most of the freshmen were frankly terrified. A few of -them packed their trunks and slunk away, and a few more openly scorned -the examinations and their frightened classmates; but they were the -exceptions. All the buoyancy seemed gone out of the college; nothing was -left but an intense strain. The dormitories were strangely quiet at -night. There was no playing of golf in the hallways, no rolling of bats -down the stairs, no shouting, no laughter; a man who made any noise was -in danger of a serious beating. Even the greetings as the men passed -each other on the campus were quiet and abstracted. They ceased to cut -classes. Everybody attended, and everybody paid close attention even to -the most tiresome instructors. - -Studious seniors began to reap a harvest out of tutoring sections. The -meetings were a dollar "a throw," and for another dollar a student could -get a mimeographed outline of a course. But the tutoring sections were -only for the "plutes" or the athletes, many of whom were subsidized by -fraternities or alumni. Most of the students had to learn their own -lessons; so they often banded together in small groups to make the task -less arduous, finding some relief in sociability. - -The study groups, quite properly called seminars, would have shocked -many a worthy professor had he been able to attend one; but they were -truly educative, and to many students inspiring. The professor had -planted the seed of wisdom with them; it was at the seminars that they -tried honestly, if somewhat hysterically and irreverently, to make it -grow. - -Hugh did most of his studying alone, fearing that the seminars would -degenerate into bull sessions, as many of them did; but Carl insisted -that he join one group that was going "to wipe up that goddamned -English course to-night." - -There were only five men at the seminar, which met in Surrey 19, because -Pudge Jamieson, who was "rating" an A in the course and was therefore an -authority, said that he wouldn't come if there were any more. Pudge, as -his nickname suggests, was plump. He was a round-faced, jovial youngster -who learned everything with consummate ease, wrote with great fluency -and sometimes real beauty, peered through his horn-rimmed spectacles -amusedly at the world, and read every "smut" book that he could lay his -hands on. His library of erotica was already famous throughout the -college, his volumes of Balzac's "Droll Stories," Rabelais complete, -"Mlle. de Maupin," Burton's "Arabian Nights," and the "Decameron" being -in constant demand. He could tell literally hundreds of dirty stories, -always having a new one on tap, always looking when he told it like a -complacent cherub. - -There were two other men in the seminar. Freddy Dickson, an earnest, -anemic youth, seemed to be always striving for greater acceleration and -never gaining it; or as Pudge put it, "The trouble with Freddy is that -he's always shifting gears." Larry Stillwell, the last man, was a dark, -handsome youth with exceedingly regular features, pomaded hair parted in -the center and shining sleekly, fine teeth, and rich coloring: a -"smooth" boy who prided himself on his conquests and the fact that he -never got a grade above a C in his courses. There was no man in the -freshman class with a finer mind, but he declined to study, declaring -firmly that he could not waste his time acquiring impractical tastes for -useless arts. - -"Now everybody shut up," said Pudge, seating himself in a big chair and -laboriously crossing one leg over the other. "Put some more wood on the -fire, Hugh, will you?" - -Hugh stirred up the fire, piled on a log or so, and then returned to his -chair, hoping against belief that something really would be accomplished -in the seminar. All the boys, he excepted, were smoking, and all of them -were lolling back in dangerously comfortable attitudes. - -"We've got to get going," Pudge continued, "and we aren't going to get -anything done if we just sit around and bull. I'm the prof, and I'm -going to ask questions. Now, don't bull. If you don't know, just say, -'No soap,' and if you do know, shoot your dope." He grinned. "How's that -for a rime?" - -"Atta boy!" Carl exclaimed enthusiastically. - -"Shut up! Now, the stuff we want to get at to-night is the poetry. No use -spending any time on the composition. My prof said that we would have -to write themes in the exam, but we can't do anything about that here. -You're all getting by on your themes, anyway, aren't you?" - -"Yeah," the listening quartet answered in unison, Larry Stillwell adding -dubiously, "Well, I'm getting C's." - -"Larry," said Carl in cold contempt, "you're a goddamn liar. I saw a B -on one of your themes the other day and an A on another. What are you -always pulling that low-brow stuff for?" - -Larry had the grace to blush. "Aw," he explained in some confusion, "my -prof's full of hooey. He doesn't know a C theme from an A one. He makes -me sick. He--" - -"Aw, shut up!" Freddy Dickson shouted. "Let's get going; let's get -going. We gotta learn this poetry. Damn! I don't know anything about it. -I didn't crack the book till two days ago." - -Pudge took charge again. "Close your gabs, everybody," he commanded -sternly. "There's no sense in going over the prose lit. You can do that -better by yourselves. God knows I'm not going to waste my time telling -you bone-heads what Carlyle means by a hero. If you don't know Odin from -Mohammed by this time, you can roast in Dante's hell for all of me. Now -listen; the prof said that they were going to make us place lines, and, -of course, they'll expect us to know what the poems are about. Hell! -how some of the boys are going to fox 'em." He paused to laugh. "Jim -Hicks told me this afternoon that 'Philomela' was by Shakspere." The -other boys did not understand the joke, but they all laughed heartily. - -"Now," he went on, "I'll give you the name of a poem, and then you tell -me what it's about and who wrote it." - -He leafed rapidly through an anthology. "Carl, who wrote 'Kubla Khan'?" - -Carl puffed his pipe meditatively. "I'm going to fox you, Pudge," he -said, frankly triumphant; "I know. Coleridge wrote it. It seems to be -about a Jew who built a swell joint for a wild woman or something like -that. I can't make much out of the damn thing." - -"That's enough. Smack for Carl," said Pudge approvingly. "Smack" meant -that the answer was satisfactory. "Freddy, who wrote 'La Belle Dame sans -Merci'?" - -Freddy twisted in his chair, thumped his head with his knuckles, and -finally announced with a groan of despair, "No soap." - -"Hugh?" - -"No soap." - -"Larry?" - -"Well," drawled Larry, "I think Jawn Keats wrote it. It's one of those -bedtime stories with a kick. A knight gets picked up by a jane. He puts -her on his prancing steed and beats it for the tall timber. Keats isn't -very plain about what happened there, but I suspect the worst. Anyhow, -the knight woke up the next morning with an awful rotten taste in his -mouth." - -"Smack for Larry. Your turn, Carl. Who wrote 'The West Wind'?" - -"You can't get me on that boy Masefield, Pudge. I know all his stuff. -There isn't any story; it's just about the west wind, but it's a goddamn -good poem. It's the cat's pajamas." - -"You said it, Carl," Hugh chimed in, "but I like 'Sea Fever' better. - - - "I must go down to the seas again, - To the lonely sea and the sky.... - - -Gosh! that's hot stuff. 'August, 1914''s a peach, too." - -"Yeah," agreed Larry languidly; "I got a great kick when the prof read -that in class. Masefield's all right. I wish we had more of his stuff -and less of Milton. Lord Almighty, how I hate Milton! What th' hell do -they have to give us that tripe for?" - -"Oh, let's get going," Freddy pleaded, running a nervous hand through -his mouse-colored hair. "Shoot a question, Pudge." - -"All right, Freddy." Pudge tried to smile wickedly but succeeded only in -looking like a beaming cherub. "Tell us who wrote the 'Ode on -Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.' -Cripes! what a title!" - -Freddy groaned. "I know that Wadsworth wrote it, but that is all that I -do know about it." - -"Wordsworth, Freddy," Carl corrected him. "Wordsworth. Henry W. -Wordsworth." - -"Gee, Carl, thanks. I thought it was William." - -There was a burst of laughter, and then Pudge explained. "It is William, -Freddy. Don't let Peters razz you. Just for that, Carl, you tell what -it's about." - -"No soap," said Carl decisively. - -"I know," Hugh announced, excited and pleased. - -"Shoot!" - -"Well, it's this reincarnation business. Wordsworth thought you lived -before you came on to this earth, and everything was fine when you were -a baby but it got worse when you got older. That's about all. It's kinda -bugs, but I like some of it." - -"It isn't bugs," Pudge contradicted flatly; "it's got sense. You do lose -something as you grow older, but you gain something, too. Wordsworth -admits that. It's a wonderful poem, and you're dumbbells if you can't -see it." He was very serious as he turned the pages of the book and laid -his pipe on the table at his elbow. "Now listen. This stanza has the -dope for the whole poem." He read the famous stanza simply and -effectively: - - - "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; - The soul that rises with us, our life's Star, - Hath had elsewhere its setting - And cometh from afar; - Not in entire forgetfulness, - And not in utter nakedness, - But trailing clouds of glory do we come - From God who is our home: - Heaven lies about us in our infancy! - Shades of the prison house begin to close - Upon the growing Boy, - But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, - He sees it in his joy; - The Youth who daily farther from the east - Must travel, still is Nature's priest, - And by the vision splendid - Is on his way attended; - At length the Man perceives it die away, - And fade into the light of common day." - - -There was a moment's silence when he finished, and then Hugh said -reverently: "That is beautiful. Read the last stanza, will you, Pudge?" - -So Pudge read the last stanza, and then the boys got into an argument -over the possible truth of the thesis of the poem. Freddy finally -brought them back to the task in hand with his plaintive plea, "We've -gotta get going." It was two o'clock in the morning when the seminar -broke up, Hugh admitting to Carl after their visitors departed that he -had not only learned a lot but that he had enjoyed the evening heartily. - -The college grew quieter and quieter as the day for the examinations -approached. There were seminars on everything, even on the best way to -prepare cribs. Certain students with low grades and less honor would -somehow gravitate together and discuss plans for "foxing the profs." -Opinions differed. One man usually insisted that notes in the palm of -the left hand were safe from detection, only to be met by the objection -that they had to be written in ink, and if one's hand perspired, "and it -was sure as hell to," nothing was left but an inky smear. Another held -that a fellow could fasten a rubber band on his forearm and attach the -notes to those, pulling them down when needed and then letting them snap -back out of sight into safety. "But," one of the conspirators was sure -to object, "what th' hell are you going to do if the band breaks?" Some -of them insisted that notes placed in the inside of one's goloshes--all -the students wore them but took them off in the examination-room--could -be easily read. "Yeah, but the proctors are wise to that stunt." And so -_ad infinitum_. Eventually all the "stunts" were used and many more. Not -that all the students cheated. Everything considered, the percentage of -cheaters was not great, but those who did cheat usually spent enough -time evolving ingenious methods of preparing cribs and in preparing them -to have learned their lessons honestly and well. - -The night before the first examinations the campus was utterly quiet. -Suddenly bedlam broke loose. Somehow every dormitory that contained -freshmen became a madhouse at the same time. Hugh and Carl were in -Surrey 19 earnestly studying. Freddy Dickson flung the door open and -shouted hysterically, "The general science exam's out!" - -Hugh and Carl whirled around in their desk-chairs. - -"What?" They shouted together. - -"Yeah! One of the fellows saw it. A girl that works at the press copied -down the exam and gave it to him." - -"What fellow? Where's the exam?" - -"I don't know who the guy is, but Hubert Manning saw the exam." - -Hugh and Carl were out of their chairs in an instant, and the three boys -rushed out of Surrey in search of Manning. They found him in his room -telling a mob of excited classmates that he hadn't seen the exam but -that Harry Smithson had. Away went the crowd in search of Smithson, Carl -and Hugh and Freddy in the midst of the excited, chattering lads. -Smithson hadn't seen the exam, but he had heard that Puddy McCumber had -a copy.... Freshmen were running up and down stairs in the dormitories, -shouting, "Have you seen the exam?" No, nobody had seen the exam, but -some of the boys had been told definitely what the questions were going -to be. No two seemed to agree on the questions, but everybody copied -them down and then rushed on to search for a _bona fide_ copy. They -hurried from dormitory to dormitory, constantly shouting the same -question, "Have you seen the exam?" There were men in every dormitory -with a new list of questions, which were hastily scratched into -note-books by the eager seekers. Until midnight the excitement raged; -then the campus quieted down as the freshmen began to study the long -lists of questions. - -"God!" said Carl as he scanned his list hopelessly, "these damn -questions cover everything in the course and some things that I know -damn well weren't in it. What a lot of nuts we were. Let's go to bed." - -"Carl," Hugh wailed despondently, "I'm going to flunk that exam. I can't -answer a tenth of these questions. I can't go to bed; I've got to study. -Oh, Lord!" - -"Don't be a triple-plated jackass. Come on to bed. You'll just get woozy -if you stay up any longer." - -"All right," Hugh agreed wearily. He went to bed, but many of the boys -stayed up and studied, some of them all night. - -The examinations were held in the gymnasium. Hundreds of class-room -chairs were set in even rows. Nothing else was there, not even the -gymnasium apparatus. A few years earlier a wily student had sneaked into -the gymnasium the night before an examination and written his notes on a -dumbbell hanging on the wall. The next day he calmly chose the seat in -front of the dumbbell--and proceeded to write a perfect examination. The -annotated dumbbell was found later, and after that the walls were -stripped clean of apparatus before the examinations began. - -At a few minutes before nine the entire freshman class was grouped -before the doors of the gymnasium, nervously talking, some of them -glancing through their notes, others smoking--some of them so rapidly -that the cigarettes seemed to melt, others walking up and down, -muttering and mumbling; all of them so excited, so tense that they -hardly knew what they were doing. Hugh was trying to think of a dozen -answers to questions that popped into his head, and he couldn't think of -anything. - -Suddenly the doors were thrown open. Yelling, shoving each other about, -fairly dancing in their eagerness and excitement, the freshmen rushed -into the gymnasium. Hugh broke from the mob as quickly as possible, -hurried to a chair, and snatched up a copy of the examination that was -lying on its broad arm. At the first glance he thought that he could -answer all the questions; a second glance revealed four that meant -nothing to him. For a moment he was dizzy with hope and despair, and -then, all at once, he felt quite calm. He pulled off his goloshes and -prepared to go to work. - -Within three minutes the noise had subsided. There was a rustling as the -boys took off their baa-baa coats and goloshes, but after that there was -no sound save the slow steps of the proctors pacing up and down the -aisle. Once Hugh looked up, thinking desperately, almost seizing an idea -that floated nebulous and necessary before him. A proctor that he knew -caught his eye and smiled fatuously. Hugh did not smile back. He could -have cried in his fury. The idea was gone forever. - -Some of the students began to write immediately; some of them leaned -back and stared at the ceiling; some of them chewed their pencils -nervously; some of them leaned forward mercilessly pounding a knee; some -of them kept running one or both hands through their hair; some of them -wrote a little and then paused to gaze blankly before them or to tap -their teeth with a pen or pencil: all of them were concentrating with an -intensity that made the silence electric. - -That proctor's idiotic smile had thrown Hugh's thoughts into what -seemed hopeless confusion, but a small incident almost immediately -brought order and relief. The gymnasium cat was wandering around the -rear of the gymnasium. It attracted the attention of several of the -students--and of a proctor. Being very careful not to make any noise, he -picked up the cat and started for the door. Almost instantly every -student looked up; and then the stamping began. Four hundred freshmen -stamped in rhythm to the proctor's steps. He Hushed violently, tried -vainly to look unconcerned, and finally disappeared through the door -with the cat. Hugh had stamped lustily and laughed in great glee at the -proctor's confusion; then he returned to his work, completely at ease, -his nervousness gone. - -One hour passed, two hours. Still the freshmen wrote; still the proctors -paced up and down. Suddenly a proctor paused, stared intently at a youth -who was leaning forward in his chair, walked quickly to him, and picked -up one of his goloshes. The next instant he had a piece of paper in his -hand and was, walking down the gymnasium after beckoning to the boy to -follow him. The boy shoved his feet into his goloshes, pulled on his -baa-baa coat, and, his face white and strained, marched down the aisle. -The proctor spoke a few words to him at the door. He nodded, opened the -door, left the gymnasium--and five hours later the college. - -Thus the college for ten days: the better students moderately calm, the -others cramming information into aching heads, drinking unbelievable -quantities of coffee, sitting up, many of them, all night, attending -seminars or tutoring sessions, working for long hours in the library, -finally taking the examination, only to start a new nerve-racking grind -in preparation for the next one. - -If a student failed in a course, he received a "flunk notice" from the -registrar's office within four days after the examination, so that four -days after the last examination every student knew whether he had passed -his courses or not. All those who failed to pass three courses were, as -the students put it, "flunked out," or as the registrar put it, "their -connection with the college was severed." Some of the flunkees took the -news very casually, packed their trunks, sold their furniture, and -departed; others frankly wept or hastened to their instructors to plead -vainly that their grades be raised: all of them were required to leave -Haydensville at once. - -Hugh passed all of his courses but without distinction. His B in -trigonometry did not give him great satisfaction inasmuch as he had -received an A in exactly the same course in high school; nor was he -particularly proud of his B in English, since he knew that with a -little effort he could have "pulled" an A. The remainder of his grades -were C's and D's, mostly D's. He felt almost as much ashamed as Freddy -Dickson, who somehow hadn't "got going" and had been flunked out. Carl -received nothing less than a C, and his record made Hugh more ashamed of -his own. Carl never seemed to study, but he hadn't disgraced himself. - -Hugh spent many bitter hours thinking about his record. What would his -folks think? Worse, what would they _say?_ Finally he wrote to them: - - - - Dear Mother and Dad: - - I have just found out my grades. I think that they will - be sent to you later. Well, I didn't flunk out but my - record isn't so hot. Only two of my grades are any good. - I got a B in English and Math but the others are all C's - and D's. I know that you will be ashamed of me and I'm - awfully sorry. I've thought of lots of excuses to write - to you, but I guess I won't write them. I know that I - didn't study hard enough. I had too much fun. - - I promise you that I'll do better next time. I know that - I can. Please don't scold me. - - Lots of love, - HUGH - - -All that his mother wrote in reply was, "Of course, you will do better -next time." The kindness hurt dreadfully. Hugh wished that she had -scolded him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -The college granted a vacation of three days between terms, but Hugh did -not go home, nor did many of the other undergraduates. There was -excitement in the air; the college was beginning to stew and boil again. -Fraternity rushing was scheduled for the second week of the new term. - -The administration strictly prohibited the rushing of freshmen the first -term; and, in general, the fraternities respected the rule. True, the -fraternity men were constantly visiting eligible freshmen, chatting with -them, discussing everything with them except fraternities. That subject -was barred. - -Hugh and Carl received a great many calls from upper-classmen the first -term, and Hugh had been astonished at Carl's reticence and silence. -Carl, the flippant, the voluble, the "wise-cracker," lost his tongue the -minute a man wearing a fraternity pin entered the room. Hugh was forced -to entertain the all-important guest. Carl never explained how much he -wanted to make a good fraternity, not any fraternity, only a _good_ one; -nor did he explain that his secret studying the first term had been -inspired by his eagerness to be completely eligible. A good fraternity -would put the seal of aristocracy on him; it would mean everything to -the "old lady." - -For the first three nights of the rushing season the fraternities held -open house for all freshmen, but during the last three nights no -freshman was supposed to enter a fraternity house unless Invited. - -The first three nights found the freshmen traveling in scared groups -from fraternity house to fraternity house, sticking close together -unless rather vigorously pried apart by their hosts. Everybody was -introduced to everybody else; everybody tried rather hopelessly to make -conversation, and nearly everybody smoked too much, partly because they -were nervous and partly because the "smokes" were free. - -It was the last three nights that counted. Both Hugh and Carl received -invitations from most of the fraternities, and they stuck together, -religiously visiting them all. Hugh hoped that they would "make" the -same fraternity and that that fraternity would be Nu Delta. They were -together so consistently during the rushing period that the story went -around the campus that Carver and Peters were "going the same way," and -that Carver had said that he wouldn't accept a bid from any fraternity -unless it asked Peters, too. - -Hugh heard the story and couldn't understand it. Everybody seemed to -take it for granted that he would be bid. Why didn't they take it -equally for granted that Carl would be bid as well? He thought perhaps -it was because he was an athlete and Carl wasn't; but the truth was, of -course, that the upper-classmen perceived the _nouveau riche_ quality in -Carl quite as clearly as he did himself. He knew that his money and the -fact that he had gone to a fashionable prep school would bring him bids, -but would they be from the right fraternities? That was the -all-important question. - -Those last three days of rushing were nerve-racking. At night the -invited freshmen--and that meant about two thirds of the class--were at -the fraternity houses until eleven; between classes and during every -free hour they were accosted by earnest fraternity men, each presenting -the superior merits of his fraternity. The fraternity men were wearier -than the freshmen. They sat up until the small hours every morning -discussing the freshmen they had entertained the night before. - -Hugh was in a daze. Over and over he heard the same words with only -slight variations. A fraternity man would slap a fat book with an -excited hand and exclaim: "This is 'Baird's Manual,' the final authority -on fraternities, and it's got absolutely all the dope. You can see where -we stand. Sixty chapters! You don't join just this one, y' understand; -you join all of 'em. You're welcome wherever you go." Or, if the number -of chapters happened to be small, "Baird's Manual" was referred to -again. "Only fifteen chapters, you see. We don't take in new chapters -every time they ask. We're darned careful to know what we're signing up -before we take anybody in." The word "aristocratic" was carefully -avoided, but it was just as carefully suggested. - -It seemed to Hugh that he was shown a photograph of every fraternity -house in the country. "Look," he would be told by his host, "look at -that picture to the right of the fireplace. That's our house at Cornell. -Isn't it the darb? And look at that one. It's our house at California. -Some palace. They've got sunken gardens. I was out there last year to -our convention. The boys certainly gave us a swell time." - -All this through a haze of tobacco smoke and over the noise of a jazz -orchestra and the chatter of a dozen similar conversations. Hugh was -excited but not really interested. The Nu Deltas invited him to their -house every evening, but they were not making a great fuss over him. -Perhaps they weren't going to give him a bid.... Well, he'd go some -other fraternity. No, he wouldn't, either. Maybe the Nu Delta's would -bid him later after he'd done something on the track. - -Although actual pledging was not supposed to be done until Saturday -night, Hugh was receiving what amounted to bids all that day and the -night before. Several times groups of fraternity men got into a room, -closed the door, and then talked to him until he was almost literally -dizzy. He was wise enough not to make any promises. His invariable -answer was: "I don't know yet. I won't know until Saturday night." - -Carl was having similar experiences, but neither of them had been talked -to by Nu Deltas. The president of the chapter, Merle Douglas, had said -to Hugh in passing, "We've got our eye on you, Carver," and that was all -that had been said. Carl did not have even that much consolation. But he -wasn't so much interested in Nu Delta as Hugh was; Kappa Zeta or Alpha -Sigma would do as well. Both of these fraternities were making violent -efforts to get Hugh, but they were paying only polite attention to Carl. - -On Friday night Hugh was given some advice that he had good reason to -remember in later years. At the moment it did not interest him a great -deal. - -He had gone to the Delta Sigma Delta house, not because he had the -slightest interest in that fraternity but because the Nu Deltas had not -urged him to remain with them. The Delta Sigma Deltas welcomed him -enthusiastically and turned him over to their president, Malcolm Graham, -a tall serious senior with sandy hair and quiet brown eyes. - -"Will you come up-stairs with me, Carver? I want to have a talk with -you," he said simply. - -Hugh hesitated. He didn't mind being talked _to_, but he was heartily -sick of being talked _at_. - -Graham noticed his hesitation and smiled. "Don't worry; I'm not going to -shanghai you, and I'm not going to jaw you to death, either." - -Hugh smiled in response. "I'm glad of that," he said wearily. "I've been -jawed until I don't know anything." - -"I don't doubt it. Come on; let's get away from this racket." He took -Hugh by the arm and led him up-stairs to his own room, which was -pleasantly quiet and restful after the noise they had left. - -When they were both seated in comfortable chairs, Graham began to talk. -"I know that you are being tremendously rushed, Carver, and I know that -you are going to get a lot of bids, too. I've been watching you all -through this week, and you seem dazed and confused to me, more confused -even than the average freshman. I think I know the reason." - -"What is it?" Hugh demanded eagerly. - -"I understand that your father is a Nu Delt." - -Hugh nodded. - -"And you're afraid that they aren't going to bid you." - -Hugh was startled. "How did you know?" He never thought of denying the -statement. - -"I guessed it. You were obviously worried; you visited other -fraternities; and you didn't seem to enjoy the attention that you were -getting. I'll tell you right now that you are worrying about nothing; -the Nu Delts will bid you. They are just taking you for granted; that's -all. You are a legacy, and you have accepted all their invitations to -come around. If you had stayed away one night, there would have been a -whole delegation rushing around the campus to hunt you up." - -Hugh relaxed. For the time being he believed Graham implicitly. - -"Now," Graham went on, "it's the Nu Delts that I want to talk about. Oh, -I'm not going to knock them," he hastened to add as Hugh eyed him -suspiciously. "I know that you have heard plenty of fraternities -knocking each other, but I am sure that you haven't heard any knocking -in this house." - -"No I haven't," Hugh admitted. - -"Well, you aren't going to, either. The Nu Delts are much more important -than we are. They are stronger locally, and they've got a very powerful -national organization. But I don't think that you have a very clear -notion about the Nu Delts or us or any other fraternity. I heard you -talking about fraternities the other night, and, if you will forgive me -for being awfully frank, you were talking a lot of nonsense." - -Hugh leaned forward eagerly. He wasn't offended, and for the first time -that week he didn't feel that he was being rushed. - -"Well, you have a lot of sentimental notions about fraternities that are -all bull; that's all. You think that the brothers are really brothers, -that they stick by each other and all that sort of thing. You seem to -think, too, that the fraternities are democratic. They aren't, or there -wouldn't be any fraternities. You don't seem to realize that -fraternities are among other things political organizations, fighting -each other on the campus for dear life. You've heard fraternities this -week knocking each other. Well, about nine tenths of what's been said is -either lies or true of every fraternity on the campus. These -fraternities aren't working together for the good of Sanford; they're -working like hell to ruin each other. You think that you are going to -like every man in the fraternity you join. You won't. You'll hate some -of them." - -Hugh was aroused and indignant. "If you feel that way about it, why do -you stay in a fraternity?" - -Graham smiled gravely. "Don't get angry, please. I stay because the -fraternity has its virtues as well as its faults. I hated the fraternity -the first two years, and I'm afraid that you're going to, too. You see, -I had the same sort of notions you have--and it hurt like the devil when -they were knocked into a cocked hat. The fraternity is a pleasant club: -it gets you into campus activities; and it gives you a social life in -college that you can't get without it. It isn't very important to most -men after they graduate. Just try to raise some money from the alumni -some time, and you'll find out. Some of them remain undergraduates all -their lives, and they think that the fraternity is important, but most -of them hardly think of it except when they come back to reunions. -They're more interested in their clubs or the Masons or something of -that sort." - -"My father hasn't remained an undergraduate all his life, but he's -interested in the Nu Delts," Hugh countered vigorously. - -"I suppose he is," Graham tactfully admitted, "but you'll find that most -men aren't. But that doesn't matter. You aren't an alumnus yet; you're a -freshman, and a fraternity is a darn nice thing to have around while you -are in college. - -"What I am going to say now," he continued, hesitating, "is pretty -touchy, and I hope that you won't be offended. I have been trying to -impress on you that the fraternity is most important while you are in -college, and, believe me, it's damned important. A fellow has a hell of -a time if he gets into the wrong fraternity.... I am sure that you are -going to get a lot of bids. Don't choose hastily. Spend to-morrow -thinking the various bunches over--and choose the one that has the -fellows that you like best, no matter what its standing on the campus -is. Be sure that you like the fellows; that is all-important. We want -you to come to us. I think that you would fit in here, but I am not -going to urge you. Think us over. If you like us, accept our bid; if you -don't, go some fraternity where you do like the fellows. And that's my -warning about the Nu Delts. Be sure that you like the fellows, or most -of them, anyway, before you accept their bid. Have you thought them -over?" - -"No," Hugh admitted, "I haven't." - -He didn't like Graham's talk; he thought that it was merely very clever -rushing. He did Graham an injustice. Graham had been strongly attracted -to Hugh and felt sure that he would be making a serious mistake if he -joined Nu Delta. Hugh's reaction, however, was natural. He had been -rushed in dozens of ingenious ways for a week; he had little reason, -therefore, to trust Graham or anybody else. - -Graham stood up. "I have a feeling, Carver," he said slowly, "that I -have flubbed this talk. I am sure that you'll know some day that I was -really disinterested and wanted to do my best for you." - -Hugh was softened--and smiled shyly as he lifted himself out of his -chair. "I know you did," he said with more gratitude in his voice than -he quite felt, "and I'm very grateful, but I'm so woozy now that I -don't know what to think." - -"I don't wonder. To tell you the truth, I am, too. I haven't got to bed -earlier than three o'clock any night this week, and right now I hardly -care if we pledge anybody to-morrow night." He continued talking as they -walked slowly down the stairs. "One more bit of advice. Don't go -anywhere else to-night. Go home to bed, and to-morrow think over what -I've told you. And," he added, holding out his hand, "even if you don't -come our way, I hope I see a lot of you before the end of the term." - -Hugh clasped his hand. "You sure will. Thanks a lot. Good night." - -"Good night." - -Hugh did go straight to his room and tried to think, but the effort met -with little success. He wanted desperately to receive a bid from Nu -Delta, and if he didn't--well, nothing else much mattered. Graham's -assertion that Nu Delta would bid him no longer brought him any comfort. -Why should Graham know what Nu Delta was going to do? - -Shortly after eleven Carl came in and threw himself wearily into a -chair. For a few minutes neither boy said anything; they stared into the -fire and frowned. Finally Carl spoke. - -"I can go Alpha Sig if I want," he said softly. - -Hugh looked up. "Good!" he exclaimed, honestly pleased. "But I hope we -can both go Nu Delt. Did they come right out and bid you?" - -"Er--no. Not exactly. It's kinda funny." Carl obviously wanted to tell -something and didn't know how to go about it. - -"What do you mean 'funny'? What happened?" - -Carl shifted around in his chair nervously, filled his pipe, lighted it, -and then forgot to smoke. - -"Well," he began slowly, "Morton--you know that Alpha Sig, Clem Morton, -the senior--well, he got me off into a corner to-night and talked to me -quite a while, shot me a heavy line of dope. At first I didn't get him -at all. He was talking about how they needed new living-room furniture -and that sort of thing. Finally I got him. It's like this--well, it's -this way: they need money. Oh, hell! Hugh, don't you see? They want -money--and they know I've got it. All I've got to do is to let them know -that I'll make the chapter a present of a thousand or two after -initiation--and I can be an Alpha Sig." - -Hugh was sitting tensely erect and staring at Carl dazedly. - -"You mean," he asked slowly, "that they want you to buy your way in?" - -Carl gave a short, hard laugh. "Well, nobody said anything vulgar like -that, Hugh, but you've got the big idea." - -"The dirty pups! The goddamn stinkers! I hope you told Morton to go -straight to hell." Hugh jumped up and stood over Carl excitedly. - -"Keep your shirt on, Hugh. No, I didn't tell him to go to hell. I didn't -say anything, but I know that all I've got to do to get an Alpha Sig bid -to-morrow night is to let Morton know that I'd like to make the chapter -a present. And I'm not sure--but I think maybe I'll do it." - -"What!" Hugh cried. "You wouldn't, Carl! You know damn well you -wouldn't." He was almost pleading. - -"Hey, quit yelling and sit down." He got up, shoved Hugh back into his -chair, and then sat down again. "I want to make one of the Big Three; -I've got to. I don't believe that either Nu Delt or Kappa Zete is going -to bid me. See? This is my only chance--and I think that I'm going to -take it." He spoke deliberately, staring pensively into the fire. - -"I don't see how you can even think of such a thing," Hugh said in -painful wonderment. "Why, I'd rather never join a fraternity than buy -myself into one." - -"You aren't me." - -"No, I'm not you. Listen, Carl." Hugh turned in his chair and faced -Carl, who kept his eyes on the dying fire. "I'm going to say something -awfully mean, but I hope you won't get mad.... You remember you told -me once that you weren't a gentleman. I didn't believe you, but if you -buy yourself into that--that bunch of--of gutter-pups, I'll--I'll--oh, -hell, Carl, I'll have to believe it." He was painfully embarrassed, very -much in earnest, and dreadfully unhappy. - -"I told you that I wasn't a gentleman," Carl said sullenly. "Now you -know it." - -"I don't know anything of the sort. I'll never believe that you could do -such a thing." He stood up again and leaned over Carl, putting his hand -on his shoulder. "Listen, Carl," he said soberly, earnestly, "I promise -that I won't go Nu Delt or any other fraternity unless they take you, -too, if you'll promise me not to go Alpha Sig." - -Carl looked up wonderingly. "What!" he exclaimed. "You'll turn down Nu -Delt if they don't bid me, too?" - -"Yes, Nu Delt or Kappa Zete or any other bunch. Promise me," he urged; -"promise me." - -Carl understood the magnitude of the sacrifice offered, and his eyes -became dangerously soft. "God! you're white, Hugh," he whispered -huskily, "white as hell. You go Nu Delt if they ask you--but I promise -you that I won't go Alpha Sig even if they bid me without pay." He held -out his hand, and Hugh gripped it hard. "I promise," he repeated, "on my -word of honor." - -At seven o'clock Saturday evening every freshman who had any reason at -all to think that he would get a bid--and some that had no -reason--collected in nervous groups in the living-room of the Union. At -the stroke of seven they were permitted to move up to a long row of -tables which were covered with large envelopes, one for every freshman. -They were arranged in alphabetical order, and in an incredibly short -time each man found the one addressed to him. Some of the envelopes were -stuffed with cards, each containing the freshman's name and the name of -the fraternity bidding him; some of them contained only one or two -cards--and some of them were empty. The boys who drew empty envelopes -instantly left the Union without a word to anybody; the others tried to -find a free space where they could scan their cards unobserved. They -were all wildly excited and nervous. One glance at the cards, and their -faces either lighted with joy or went white with disappointment. - -Hugh found ten cards in his envelope--and one of them had Nu Delta -written on it. His heart leaped; for a moment he thought that he was -going to cry. Then he rushed around the Union looking for Carl. He found -him staring at a fan of cards, which he was holding like a hand of -bridge. - -"What luck?" Hugh cried. - -Carl handed him the cards. "Lamp those," he said, "and then explain. -They've got me stopped." - -He had thirteen bids, one from every fraternity in good standing, -including the so-called Big Three. - -When Hugh saw the Nu Delta card he yelled with delight. - -"I got a Nu Delt, too." His voice was trembling with excitement. "You'll -go with me, won't you?" - -"Of course, Hugh. But I don't understand." - -"Oh, what's the dif? Let's go." - -He tucked his arm in Carl's, and the two of them passed out of the Union -on their way to the Nu Delta house. Later both of them understood. - -Carl's good looks, his excellent clothes, his money, and the fact that -he had been to an expensive preparatory school were enough to insure him -plenty of bids even if he had been considerably less of a gentleman than -he was. - -Already the campus was ringing with shouts as freshmen entered -fraternity houses, each freshman being required to report at once to the -fraternity whose bid he was accepting. - -When Carl and Hugh walked up the Nu Delta steps, they were seized by -waiting upper-classmen and rushed into the living-room, where they were -received with loud cheers, slapped on the back, and passed around the -room, each upper-classman shaking hands with them so vigorously that -their hands hurt for an hour afterward. What pleasant pain! Each new -arrival was similarly received, but the excitement did not last long. -Both the freshmen and the upper-classmen were too tired to keep the -enthusiasm at the proper pitch. At nine o'clock the freshmen were sent -home with orders to report the next evening at eight. - -Carl and Hugh, proudly conscious of the pledge buttons in the lapels of -their coats, walked slowly across the campus, spent and weary, but -exquisitely happy. - -"They bid me on account of you," Carl said softly. "They didn't think -they could get you unless they asked me, too." - -"No," Hugh replied, "you're wrong. They took you for yourself. They knew -you would go where I did, and they were sure that I would go their way." - -Hugh was quite right. The Nu Deltas had felt sure of both of them and -had not rushed them harder because they were too busy to waste any time -on certainties. - -Carl stopped suddenly. "God, Hugh," he exclaimed. "Just suppose I had -offered the Alpha Sigs that cash. God!" - -"Aren't you glad you didn't?" Hugh asked happily. - -"Glad? Glad? Boy, I'm bug-house. And," he added softly, "I know the lad -I've got to thank." - -"Aw, go to hell." - - * * * * * - -The initiation season lasted two weeks, and the neophytes found that the -dormitory initiations had been merely child's play. They had to account -for every hour, and except for a brief time allowed every day for -studying, they were kept busy making asses of themselves for the -delectation of the upper-classmen. - -In the Nu Delta house a freshman had to be on guard every hour of the -day up to midnight. He was forced to dress himself in some outlandish -costume, the more outlandish the better, and announce every one who -entered or left the house. "Mr. Standish entering," he would bawl, or, -"Mr. Kerwin leaving." If he bawled too loudly, he was paddled; if he -didn't bawl loudly enough, he was paddled; and if there was no fault to -be found with his bawling; he was paddled anyway. Every freshman had to -supply his own paddle, a broad, stout oak affair sold at the cooperative -store at a handsome profit. - -If a freshman reported for duty one minute late, he was paddled; if he -reported one minute early, he was paddled. There was no end to the -paddling. "Assume the angle," an upper-classman would roar. The -unfortunate freshman then humbly bent forward, gripped his ankles with -his hands--and waited. The worst always happened. The upper-classman -brought the paddle down with a resounding whack on the seat of the -freshman's trousers. - -"Does it hurt?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Another resounding whack. "_What?_" - -"No--no, sir." - -"Oh, well, if it doesn't hurt, I might as well give you another one." -And he gave him another one. - -A freshman was paddled if he forgot to say "sir" to an upper-classman; -he was paddled if he neglected to touch the floor with his fingers every -time he passed through a door in the fraternity house; he was paddled if -he laughed when an upper-classman told a joke, and he was paddled if he -didn't laugh; he was paddled if he failed to return from an errand in an -inconceivably short time: he was paddled for every and no reason, but -mainly because the upper-classmen, the sophomores particularly, got -boundless delight out of doing the paddling. - -Every night a freshman stood on the roof of the Nu Delta house and -announced the time every fifteen seconds. "One minute and fifteen -seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; one minute -and thirty seconds after nine, and all's well in the halls of Nu Delta; -one minute and forty-five seconds after nine, and all's well in the -halls of Nu Delta," and so on for an hour. Then he was relieved by -another freshman, who took up the chant. - -Nightly the freshmen had to entertain the upper-classmen, and if the -entertainment wasn't satisfactory, as it never was, the entertainers -were paddled. They had to run races, shoving pennies across the floor -with their noses. The winner was paddled for going too fast--"Didn't he -have any sense of sportsmanship?"--and the loser was paddled for going -too slow. Most of the freshmen lost skin off their noses and foreheads; -all of them shivered at the sight of a paddle. By the end of the first -week they were whispering to each other how many blisters they had on -their buttocks. - -It was a bitterly cold night in late February when the Nu Deltas took -the freshmen for their "walk." They drove in automobiles fifteen miles -into the country and then left the freshmen to walk back. It was four -o'clock in the morning when the miserable freshmen reached the campus, -half frozen, unutterably weary, but thankful that the end of the -initiation was at hand. - -Hugh was thankful for another thing; the Nu Deltas did not brand. He had -noticed several men in the swimming-pool with tiny Greek letters branded -on their chests or thighs. The branded ones seemed proud of their -permanent insignia, but the idea of a fraternity branding its members -like beef-cattle was repugnant to Hugh. He told Carl that he was darn -glad the Nu Deltas were above that sort of thing, and, surprisingly, -Carl agreed with him. - -The next night they were formally initiated. The Nu Delta house seemed -strangely quiet; levity was strictly prohibited. The freshmen were given -white robes such as the upper-classmen were wearing, the president -excepted, who wore a really handsome robe of blue and silver. - -Then they marched up-stairs to the "goat room." Once there, the -president mounted a dais; a "brother" stood on each side of him. Hugh -was so much impressed by the ritual, the black hangings of the room, the -fraternity seal over the dais, the ornate chandelier, the long speeches -of the president and his assistants, that he failed to notice that many -of the brothers were openly bored. - -Eventually each freshman was led forward by an upper-classman. He knelt -on the lowest step of the dais and repeated after the president the oath -of allegiance. Then one of the assisting brothers whispered to him the -password and taught him the "grip," a secret and elaborate method of -shaking hands, while the other pinned the jeweled pin to his vest. - -When each freshman had been received into the fraternity, the entire -chapter marched in twos down-stairs, singing the fraternity song. The -initiation was over; Carl and Hugh were Nu Delts. - -The whole ceremony had moved Hugh deeply, so deeply that he had hardly -been able to repeat the oath after the president. He thought the ritual -very beautiful, more beautiful even than the Easter service at church. -He left the Nu Delta house that night feeling a deeper loyalty for the -fraternity than he had words to express. He and Carl walked back to -Surrey 19 in silence. Neither was capable of speech, though both of them -wanted to give expression to their emotion in some way. They reached -their room. - -"Well," said Hugh shyly, "I guess I'll go to bed." - -"Me, too." Then Carl moved hesitatingly to where Hugh was standing. He -held out his hand and grinned, but his eyes were serious. - -"Good night--brother." - -Their hands met in the sacred grip. - -"Good night--brother." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -To Hugh the remainder of the term was simply a fight to get an -opportunity to study. The old saying, "if study interferes with college, -cut out study," did not appeal to him. He honestly wanted to do good -work, but he found that the chance to do it was rare. Some one always -seemed to be in his room eager to talk; there was the fraternity meeting -to attend every Monday night; early in the term there was at least one -hockey or basketball game a week; later there were track meets, baseball -games, and tennis matches; he had to attend Glee Club rehearsals twice a -week; he ran every afternoon either in the gymnasium or on the cinder -path; some one always seduced him into going to the movies; he was -constantly being drawn into bull sessions; there was an occasional -concert: and besides all these distractions, there was a fraternity -dance, the excitement of Prom, a trip to three cities with the Glee -Club, and finally a week's vacation at home at Easter. - -Worst of all, none of his instructors was inspiring. He had been -assigned to a new section in Latin, and in losing Alling he lost the one -really enjoyable teacher he had had. The others were conscientious, -more or less competent, but there was little enthusiasm in their -teaching, nothing to make a freshman eager either to attend their -classes or to study the lessons they assigned. They did not make the -acquiring of knowledge a thrilling experience; they made it a duty--and -Hugh found that duty exceedingly irksome. - -He attended neither the fraternity dance nor the Prom. He had looked -forward enthusiastically to the "house dance," but after he had, along -with the other men in his delegation, cleaned the house from garret to -basement, he suddenly took to his bed with grippe. He groaned with -despair when Carl gave him glowing accounts of the dance and the -"janes." Carl for once, however, was circumspect; he did not tell Hugh -all that happened. He would have been hard put to explain his own -reticence, but although he thought "the jane who got pie-eyed" had been -enormously funny, he decided not to tell Hugh about her or the pie-eyed -brothers. - -No freshman was allowed to attend the Prom, but along with the other men -who weren't "dragging women" Hugh walked the streets and watched the -girls. There was a tea-dance at the fraternity house during Prom week. -Hugh said that he got a great kick out of it, but, as a matter of fact, -he remained only a short time; there was a hectic quality to both the -girls and the talk that confused him. For some reason he didn't like the -atmosphere; and he didn't know why. His excuse to the brothers and to -himself for leaving early was that he was in training and not supposed -to dance. - -Track above all things was absorbing his interest. He could hardly think -of anything else. He lay awake nights dreaming of the race he would run -against Raleigh. Sanford had three dual track meets a year, but the -first two were with small colleges and considered of little importance. -Only a point winner in the Raleigh meet was granted his letter. - -Hugh won the hundred in the sophomore-freshman meet and in a meet with -the Raleigh freshmen, so that he was given his class numerals. He did -nothing, however, in the Raleigh meet; he was much too nervous to run -well, breaking three times at the mark. He was set back two yards and -was never able to regain them. For a time he was bitterly despondent, -but he soon cheered up when he thought of the three years ahead of him. - -Spring brought first rain and slush and then the "sings." There was a -fine stretch of lawn in the center of the campus, and on clear nights -the students gathered there for a sing, one class on each side of the -lawn. First the seniors sang a college song, then the juniors, then the -sophomores, and then the freshmen. After each song, the other classes -cheered the singers, except when the sophomores and freshmen sang: they -always "razzed" each other. Hugh led the freshmen, and he never failed -to get a thrill out of singing a clear note and hearing his classmates -take it up. - -After each class had sung three or four songs, the boys gathered in the -center of the lawn, sang the college hymn, gave a cheer, and the sing -was over. - -On such nights, however, the singing really continued for hours. The -Glee Club often sang from the Union steps; groups of boys wandered arm -in arm around the campus singing; on every fraternity steps there were -youths strumming banjos and others "harmonizing": here, there, -everywhere young voices were lifted in song--not joyous nor jazzy but -plaintive and sentimental. Adeline's sweetness was extolled by unsure -barytones and "whisky" tenors; and the charms of Rosie O'Grady were -chanted in "close harmony" in every corner of the campus: - - - "Sweet Rosie O'Grady, - She's my pretty rose; - She's my pretty lady, - As every one knows. - And when we are married, - Oh, how happy we'll be, - For I love sweet Rosie O'Grady - And Rosie O'Grady loves me." - - -Hugh loved those nights: the shadows of the elms, the soft spring -moonlight, the twanging banjos, the happy singing. He would never, so -long as he lived, hear "Rosie O'Grady" without surrendering to a tender, -sentimental mood; that song would always mean the campus and singing -youth. - -Suddenly examinations threw their baleful influence over the campus -again. Once more the excitement, but not so great this time, the -cramming, the rumors of examinations "getting out," the seminars, the -tutoring sections, the nervousness, the fear. - -Hugh, however, was surer of himself than he had been the first term, and -although he had no reason to be proud of the grades he received, he was -not particularly ashamed of them. - -He and Carl left the same day but by different trains. They had agreed -to room together again in Surrey 19; so they didn't feel that the -parting for the summer was very important. - -"You'll write, won't you, old man?" - -"Sure, Hugh--surest thing you know. Say, it don't seem possible that our -freshman year's over already. Why, hell, Hugh, we're sophomores." - -"So we are! What do you know about that?" Hugh's eyes shone. "Gosh!" - -Carl looked at his watch. "Hell, I've got to beat it." He picked up his -suit-case, dropped it, shook hands vigorously with Hugh, snatched up his -suit-case, and was off with a final, "Good-by, Hugh, old boy," sounding -behind him. - -Hugh settled back into a chair. He had half an hour to wait. - -"A sophomore.... Gosh!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Hugh spent the summer at home, working on the farm, reading a little, -and occasionally visiting a lake summer resort a few miles away. Helen -had left Merrytown to attend a secretarial school in a neighboring city, -and Hugh was genuinely glad to find her gone when he returned from -college. Helen was becoming not only a bore but a problem. Besides, he -met a girl at Corley Lake, the summer resort, whom he found much more -fascinating. For a month or two he thought that he was in love with -Janet Harton. Night after night he drove to Corley Lake in his father's -car, sometimes dancing with Janet in the pavilion, sometimes canoeing -with her on the lake, sometimes taking her for long rides in the car, -but often merely wandering through the pines with her or sitting on the -shore of the lake and staring at the rippling water. - -Janet was small and delicate; she seemed almost fragile. She did -everything daintily--like a little girl playing tea-party. Her hands and -feet were exquisitely small, her features childlike and indefinite, -except her little coral mouth, which was as clearly outlined with color -as a doll's and as mobile as a fluttering leaf. She had wide blue eyes -and hair that was truly golden. Strangely, she had not bobbed it but -wore it bound into a shining coil around her head. - -Hugh wrote a poem to her. It began thus: - - - Maiden with the clear blue eyes, - Lady with the golden hair, - Exquisite child, serenely wise, - Sweetly tender, morning fair. - - -He wasn't sure that it was a very good poem; there was something -reminiscent about the first line, and he was dubious about "morning -fair." He had, however, studied German for a year in high school, and he -guessed that if _morgenschoen_ was all right in German it was all right -in English, too. - -They rarely talked. Hugh was content to sit for hours with the delicate -child nestling in his arm, her hand lying passive and cool in his. She -made him feel very strong and protective. Nights, he dreamed of doing -brave deeds for her, of saving her from terrible dangers. At first her -vague, fleeting kisses thrilled him, but as the weeks went by and his -passion grew, he found them strangely unsatisfying. - -When she cuddled her lovely head in the hollow of his shoulder, he -would lean forward and whisper: "Kiss me, Janet. Kiss me." Obediently -she would turn her face upward, her little mouth pursed into a coral -bud, but if he held her too tightly or prolonged the kiss, she pushed -him away or turned her face. Then he felt repelled, chilled. She kissed -him much as she kissed her mother every night, and he wanted--well he -didn't quite know what he did want except that he didn't want to be -kissed _that_ way. - -Finally he protested. "What's the matter, Janet?" he asked gently. -"Don't you love me?" - -"Of course," she answered calmly in her small flute-like voice; "of -course I love you, but you are so rough. You mustn't kiss me hard like -that; it isn't nice." - -Nice! Hugh felt as if she had slapped his face. Then he knew that she -didn't understand at all. He tried to excuse her by telling himself that -she was just a child--she was within a year of his own age--and that she -would love him the way he did her when she grew older; but down in his -heart he sensed the fact that she wasn't capable of love, that she -merely wanted to be petted and caressed as a child did. The shadows and -the moonlight did not move her as they did him, and she thought that he -was silly when he said that he could hear a song in the night breeze. -She had said that his poem was very pretty. That was all. Well, maybe -it wasn't a very good poem, but it had--well, it had--it had something -in it that wasn't just pretty. - -He began to visit the lake less often and to wish that September and the -opening of college would arrive. When the day finally came to return, he -was almost as much excited as he had been the year before. Gosh! it -would be good to see Carl again. The bum had written only once. Yeah, -and Pudge Jamieson, too, and Larry Stillwell, and Bill Freeman, -and--yes, by golly! Merton Billings. He'd be glad to see old Fat -Billings. He wondered if Merton was as fat as ever and as pure. And all -the brothers at the Nu Delta house. He'd been too busy to get really -acquainted with them last year; but this year, by gosh, he'd get to know -all of them. It certainly would be great to be back and be a sophomore -and make the little frosh stand around. - -He didn't carry his suit-case up the hill this time; he checked it and -sent a freshman for it later. When he arrived at Surrey 19 Carl was -already there--and he was kneeling before a trunk when Hugh walked into -the room. Both of them instantly remembered the identical scene of the -year before. - -Carl jumped to his feet. "Hullo--who are you?" he demanded, his face -beaming. - -Hugh pretended to be frightened and shy. "I'm Hugh Carver. I--I guess -I'm going to room with you." - -"You sure are!" yelled Carl, jumping over the trunk and landing on Hugh. -"God! I'm glad to see you. Put it there." They shook hands and stared at -each other with shining eyes. - -Then they began to talk, interrupting each other, gesticulating, -occasionally slapping each other violently on the back or knee, shouting -with laughter as one of them told of a summer experience that struck -them as funny. They were both so glad to get back to college, so glad to -see each other, that they were almost hysterical. And when they left -Surrey 19 arm in arm on their way to the Nu Delta house "to see the -brothers," their cup of bliss was full to the brim and running over. - -"Criminy, the ol' campus sure does look good," said Hugh ecstatically. -"Watch the frosh work." He was suddenly reminded of something. "Hey, -freshman!" he yelled at a big, red-faced youngster who was to be -full-back on the football team a year hence. - -The freshman came on a run. "Yes--yes, sir?" - -"Here's a check. Take it down to the station and get my suit-case. Take -it up to Surrey Nineteen and put it in the room. The door's open. Hurry -up now; I'm going to want it pretty soon." - -"Yes, sir. I'll hurry." And the freshman was off running. - -Hugh and Carl grinned at each other, linked arms again, and continued -their way across the campus. When they entered the Nu Delta house a -shout went up. "Hi, Carl! Hi, Hugh! Glad to see you back. Didya have a -good summer? Put it there, ol' kid"--and they shook hands, gripping each -other's forearm at the same time. - - * * * * * - -Hugh tried hard to become a typical sophomore and failed rather badly. -He retained much of the shyness and diffidence that gives the freshman -his charm, and he did not succeed very well in acquiring the swagger, -the cocky, patronizing manner, the raucous self-assurance that -characterize the true sophomore. - -He found, too, that he couldn't lord it over the freshmen very well, and -at times he was nothing less than a renegade to his class. He was -constantly giving freshmen correct information about their problems, and -during the dormitory initiations he more than once publicly objected to -some "stunt" that seemed to him needlessly insulting to the initiates. -Because he was an athlete, his opinion was respected, and quite -unintentionally he won several good friends among the freshmen. His -objections had all been spontaneous, and he was rather sorry about them -afterward. He felt that he must be soft, that he ought to be able to -stand anything that anybody else could. Further, he felt that there -must be something wrong with his sense of humor; things that struck lots -of his classmates as funny seemed merely disgusting to him. - -He wanted very much to tell Carl about Janet, but for several weeks the -opportunity did not present itself. There was too much excitement about -the campus; the mood of the place was all wrong, and Hugh, although he -didn't know it, was very sensitive to moods and atmosphere. - -Finally one night in October he and Carl were seated in their big chairs -before the fire. They had been walking that afternoon, and Hugh had been -swept outside of himself by the brilliance of the autumn foliage. He was -emotionally and physically tired, feeling that vague, melancholy -happiness that comes after an intense but pleasant experience. Carl -leaned back to the center-table and switched off the study light. - -"Pleasanter with just the firelight," he said quietly. He, too, had -something that he wanted to tell, and the less light the better. - -Hugh sighed and relaxed comfortably into his chair. The shadows were -thick and mysterious behind them; the flames leaped merrily in the -fireplace. Both boys sat silent, staring into the fire. - -Finally Hugh spoke. - -"I met a girt this summer, Carl," he said softly. - -"Yeah?" - -"Yeah. Little peach. Awf'lly pretty. Dainty, you know. Awf'lly -dainty--like a little kid. You know." - -Carl had slumped down into his chair. He was smoking his pipe and -staring pensively at the flames. "Un-huh. Go on." - -"Well, I fell pretty hard. She was so--er, dainty. She always reminded -me of a little girl playing lady. She had golden hair and blue eyes, the -bluest eyes I've ever seen; oh, lots bluer than mine, lots bluer. And -little bits of hands and feet." - -Carl continued to puff his pipe and stare at the fire. "Pet?" he asked -dreamily. - -"Uh-huh. Yeah, she petted--but she was kinda funny--cold, you know, and -kinda scared. Gee, Carl, I was crazy about her. I--I even wrote her a -poem. I guess it wasn't very good, but I don't think she knew what it -was about. I guess I'm off her now, though. She's too cold. I don't want -a girl to fall over me--my last girl did that--but, golly, Carl, Janet -didn't understand. I don't think she knows anything about love." - -"Some of 'em don't," Carl remarked philosophically, slipping deeper into -his chair. "They just pet." - -"That's the way she was. She liked me to hold her and kiss her just as -long as I acted like a big brother, but, criminy, when I felt that soft -little thing in my arms, I didn't feel like a big brother; I loved her -like hell.... She was awfully sweet," he added regretfully; "I wish she -wasn't so cold." - -"Hard luck, old man," said Carl consolingly, "hard luck. Guess you -picked an iceberg." - -For a few minutes the room was quiet except for the crackling of the -fire, which was beginning to burn low. The shadows were creeping up on -the boys; the flames were less merry. - -Carl took his pipe out of his mouth and drawled softly, "I had better -luck." - -Hugh pricked up his ears. "You haven't really fallen in love, have you?" -he demanded eagerly. Carl had often said that he would never fall in -love, that he was "too wise" to women. - -"No, I didn't fall in love; nothing like that. I met a bunch of janes -down at Bar Harbor. Some of them I'd known before, but I met some new -ones, too. Had a damn good time. Some of those janes certainly could -neck, and they were ready for it any time. Gee, if the old lady hadn't -been there, I'd a been potted about half the time. As it was, I drank -enough gin and Scotch to float a battle-ship. Well, the old lady had to -go to New York on account of some business; so I went down to Christmas -Cove to visit some people I know there. Christmas Cove's a nice place; -not so high-hat as Bar Harbor, but still it's a nice place." - -Hugh felt that Carl was leaving the main track, and he hastened to -shunt him back. "Sure," he said in cheerful agreement; "sure it is--but -what happened?" - -"What happened? Oh--oh, yes!" Carl brought himself back to the present -with an obvious effort. "Sure, I'll tell you what happened. Well, there -was a girl there named Elaine Marston. She wasn't staying with the folks -I was, but they knew her, so I saw a lot of her. See?" - -"Sure." Hugh wished he would hurry up. Carl didn't usually wander all -over when telling a story. This must be something special. - -"Well, I saw lots of her. Lots. Pretty girl, nice family and everything, -but she liked her booze and she liked to pet. Awful hot kid. Well, one -night we went to a dance, and between dances we had a lot of gin I had -brought with me. Good stuff, too. I bought it off a guy who brought it -down from Canada himself. Where was I? Oh, yes, at the dance. We both -got pie-eyed; I was all liquored up, and I guess she was, too. After the -dance was over, I dared her to walk over to South Bristol--that's just -across the island, you know--and then walk back again. Well, we hadn't -gone far when we decided to sit down. We were both kinda dizzy from the -gin. You have to go through the woods, you know, and it's dark as hell -in there at night.... We sat down among some ferns and I began to pet -her. Don't know why--just did.... Oh, hell! what's the use of going -into details? You can guess what happened." - -Hugh sat suddenly erect. "You didn't--" - -Carl stood up and stretched. "Yeah," he yawned, "I did it. Lots of times -afterwards." - -Hugh was dazed. He didn't know what to think. For an instant he was -shocked, and then he was envious. "Wonder if Janet would have gone the -whole way," flitted across his mind. He instantly dismissed the -question; he felt that it wasn't fair to Janet. But Carl? Gosh! - -Carl yawned again. "Great stuff," he said nonchalantly. "Sleepy as hell. -Guess I'll hit the hay." He eyed Hugh suspiciously. "You aren't shocked, -are you? You don't think I'm a moral leper or anything like that?" He -attempted to be light but wasn't altogether successful. - -"Of course not." Hugh denied the suggestion vehemently, and yet down in -his heart he felt a keen disappointment. He hardly knew why he was -disappointed, but he was. "Going to bed?" he asked as casually as he -could. - -"Yeah. Good night." - -"Good night, old man." - -Each boy went to his own bedroom, Hugh to go to bed and think Carl's -story over. It thrilled him, and he envied Carl, and yet--and yet he -wished Carl hadn't done it. It made him and Carl different--sorta not -the same; no that wasn't it. He didn't know just what the trouble was, -but there was a sharp sting of disillusionment that hurt. He would have -been more confused had he known what was happening in Carl's room. - -Carl had walked into his own bedroom, lighted the light, and closed the -door. Then he walked to the dresser and stared at himself in the mirror, -stared a long time as if the face were somehow new to him. - -There was a picture of the "old lady" on the dresser. It caught his eye, -and he flinched. It seemed to look at him reproachfully. He thought of -his mother, and he thought of how he had bluffed Hugh. He had cried -after his first experience with the girl. - -He looked again into the mirror. "You goddamn hypocrite," he said -softly; "you goddamn hypocrite." His lip curled in contempt at his -image. - -He began to undress rapidly. The eyes of the "old lady" in the picture -seemed to follow him around the room. The thought of her haunted him. -Desperately, he switched out the light. - -Once in bed, he rolled over on his stomach and buried his face in the -pillow. "God!" he whispered. "God!" - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -Sanford defeated Raleigh this year in football, and for a time the -college was wild with excitement and delight. Most of the free lumber in -Haydensville was burned in a triumphant bonfire, and many of the -undergraduates celebrated so joyously with their winnings that they -looked sadly bedraggled for several days afterward. - -The victory was discussed until the boys were thoroughly sick of it, and -then they settled down to a normal life, studying; playing pool, -billiards, and cards; going to the movies, reading a little, and holding -bull sessions. - -Hugh attended many bull sessions. Some of them he found interesting, but -many of them were merely orgies of filthy talk, the participants vying -with one another in telling the dirtiest stories; and although Hugh was -not a prig, he was offended by a dirty story that was told merely for -the sake of its dirt. Pudge Jamieson's stories were smutty, but they -were funny, too, and he could send Hugh into paroxysms of laughter any -time that he chose. - -One night in late November Hugh was in Gordon Ross's room in Surrey -along with four others. Ross was a senior, a quiet man with gray eyes, -rather heavy features, and soft brown hair. He was considerably older -than the others, having worked for several years before he came to -college. He listened to the stories that were being told, occasionally -smiled, but more often studied the group curiously. - -The talk became exceedingly nasty, and Hugh was about to leave in -disgust when the discussion suddenly turned serious. - -"Do you know," said George Winsor abruptly, "I wonder why we hold these -smut sessions. I sit here and laugh like a fool and am ashamed of myself -half the time. And this isn't the only smut session that's going on -right now. I bet there's thirty at least going on around the campus. Why -are we always getting into little groups and covering each other with -filth? College men are supposed to be gentlemen, and we talk like a lot -of gutter-pups." Winsor was a sophomore, a fine student, and thoroughly -popular. He looked like an unkempt Airedale. His clothes, even when new, -never looked neat, and his rusty hair refused to lie flat. He had an -eager, quick way about him, and his brown eyes were very bright and -lively. - -"Yes, that's what I want to know," Hugh chimed in, forgetting all about -his desire to leave. "I'm always sitting in on bull sessions, but I -think they re rotten. About every so often I make up my mind that I -won't take part in another one, and before I know it somebody's telling -me the latest and I'm listening for all I'm worth." - -"That's easy,"' Melville Burbank answered. He was a junior with a -brilliant record. "You're merely sublimating your sex instincts, that's -all. If you played around with cheap women more, you wouldn't be -thinking about sex all the time and talking smut." - -"You're crazy!" It was Keith Nutter talking, a sophomore notorious for -his dissipations. "Hell, I'm out with bags all the time, as you damn -well know. My sex instincts don't need sublimating, or whatever you call -it, and I talk smut as much as anybody--more than some." - -"Perhaps you're just naturally dirty," Burbank said, his voice edged -with sarcasm. He didn't like Nutter. The boy seemed gross to him. - -"Go to hell! I'm no dirtier than anybody else." Nutter was not only -angry but frankly hurt. "The only difference between me and the rest of -you guys is that I admit that I chase around with rats, and the rest of -you do it on the sly. I'm no hypocrite." - -"Oh, come off, Keith," Gordon Ross said quietly; "you're not fair. I -admit that lots of the fellows are chasing around with rats on the sly, -but lots of them aren't, too. More fellows go straight around this -college than you think. I know a number that have never touched a woman. -They just hate to admit they're pure, that's all; and you take their -bluff for the real thing." - -"You've got to show me." Nutter was almost sullen. "I admit that I'm no -angel, but I don't believe that I'm a damn bit worse than the average. -Besides, what's wrong about it, anyhow? It's just as natural as eating, -and I don't see where there is anything worse about it." - -George Winsor stood up and leaned against the mantel. He ran his fingers -through his hair until it stood grotesquely on end. "Oh, that's the old -argument. I've heard it debated in a hundred bull sessions. One fellow -says it's all wrong, and another fellow says it's all right, and you -never get anywhere. I want somebody to tell me what's wrong about it and -what's right. God knows you don't find out in your classes. They have -Doc Conners give those smut talks to us in our freshman year, and a -devil of a lot of good they do. A bunch of fellows faint and have to be -lugged out, and the Doc gives you some sickening details about venereal -diseases, and that's as far as you get. Now, I'm all messed up about -this sex business, and I'll admit that I'm thinking about it all the -time, too. Some fellows say it's all right to have a woman, and some -fellows say it's all wrong, but I notice none of them have any use for a -woman who isn't straight." - -All of the boys were sitting in easy-chairs except Donald Ferguson, who -was lying on the couch and listening in silence. He was a handsome youth -with Scotch blue eyes and sandy hair. Women were instantly attracted by -his good looks, splendid physique, slow smile, and quiet drawl. - -He spoke for the first time. "The old single-standard fight," he said, -propping his head on his hand. "I don't see any sense in scrapping about -that any more. We've got a single standard now. The girls go just as -fast as the fellows." - -"Oh, that's not so," Hugh exclaimed. "Girls don't go as far as fellows." - -Ferguson smiled pleasantly at Hugh and drawled; "Shut up, innocent; you -don't know anything about it. I tell you the old double standard has -gone all to hell." - -"You're exaggerating, Don, just to get Hugh excited," Ross said in his -quiet way. "There are plenty of decent girls. Just because a lot of them -pet on all occasions isn't any reason to say that they aren't straight. -I'm older than you fellows, and I guess I've had a lot more experience -than most of you. I've had to make my own way since I was a kid, and -I've bumped up against a lot of rough customers. I worked in a lumber -camp for a year, and after you've been with a gang like that for a -while, you'll understand the difference between them and college -fellows. Those boys are bad eggs. They just haven't any morals, that's -all. They turn into beasts every pay night; and bad as some of our -college parties are, they aren't a circumstance to a lumber town on pay -night." - -"That's no argument," George Winsor said excitedly, taking his pipe out -of his mouth and gesticulating with it. "Just because a lumberjack is a -beast is no reason that a college man is all right because he's less of -a beast. I tell you I get sick of my own thoughts, and I get sick of the -college when I hear about some things that are done. I keep straight, -and I don't know why I do, I despise about half the fellows that chase -around with rats, and sometimes I envy them like hell. Well, what's the -sense in me keeping straight? What's the sense in anybody keeping -straight? Fellows that don't seem to get along just as well as those -that do. What do you think, Mel? You've been reading Havelock Ellis and -a lot of ducks like that." - -Burbank tossed a cigarette butt into the fire and gazed into the flames -for a minute before speaking, his homely face serious and troubled. "I -don't know what to think," he replied slowly. "Ellis tells about some -things that make you fairly sick. So does Forel. The human race can be -awfully rotten. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm all mixed up. -Sometimes life just doesn't seem worth living to me, what with the filth -and the slums and the greed and everything. I've been taking a course -in sociology, and some of the things that Prof Davis has been telling us -make you wonder why the world goes on at all. Some poet has a line -somewhere about man's inhumanity to man, and I find myself thinking -about that all the time. The world's rotten as hell, and I don't see how -anything can be done about it. I don't think sometimes that it's worth -living in. I can understand why people commit suicide." He spoke softly, -gazing into the fire. - -Hugh had given him rapt attention. Suddenly he spoke up, forgetting his -resolve not to say anything more after Ferguson had called him -"innocent." "I think you're wrong, Mel," he said positively. "I was -reading a book the other day called 'Lavengro.' It's all about Gipsies. -Well, this fellow Lavengro was all busted up and depressed; he's just -about made up his mind to commit suicide when he meets a friend of his, -a Gipsy. He tells the Gipsy that he's going to bump himself off, that he -doesn't see anything in life to live for. Then the Gipsy answers him. -Gee, it hit me square in the eye, and I memorized it on the spot. I -think I can say it. He says: 'There's night and day, brother, both sweet -things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's -likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would -wish to die?' I think that's beautiful," he added simply, "and I think -it's true, too." - -"Good for you, Hugh," Ross said quietly. - -Hugh blushed with pleasure, but he was taken back by Nutter's vigorous -rejoinder. "Bunk!" he exclaimed. "Hooey! The sun, moon, and stars, and -all that stuff sounds pretty, but it isn't life. Life's earning a -living, and working like hell, and women, and pleasure. The 'Rubaiyat' -'s the only poem--if you're going to quote poetry. That's the only poem -I ever saw that had any sense to it. - - - "Come, Beloved, fill the Cup that clears - To-day of past Regrets and future Fears. - To-morrow? Why, To-morrow I may be - Myself with Yesterday's seven thousand Years. - - -You bet. You never can tell when you're going to be bumped off, and so -you might just as well have a good time while you can. You damn well -don't know what's coming after you kick the bucket." - -"Good stuff, the 'Rubaiyat,'" said Ferguson lazily. He was lying on his -back staring at the ceiling. "I bet I've read it a hundred times. When -they turn down an empty glass for me, it's going to be _empty_. I don't -know what I'm here for or where I'm going or why. 'Into this world and -why not knowing,' and so on. My folks sent me to Sunday-school and -brought me up to be a good little boy. I believed just about everything -they told me until I came to college. Now I know they told me a lot of -damned lies. And I've talked with a lot of fellows who've had the same -experience.... Anybody got a butt?" - -Burbank, who was nearest to him, passed him a package of cigarettes. -Ferguson extracted one, lighted it, blew smoke at the ceiling, and then -quietly continued, drawling lazily: "Most fellows don't tell their folks -anything, and there's no reason why they should, either. Our folks lie -to us from the time we are babies. They lie to us about birth and God -and life. My folks never told me the truth about anything. When I came -to college I wasn't very innocent about women, but I was about -everything else. I believed that God made the world in six days the way -the Bible says, and that some day the world was coming to an end and -that we'd all be pulled up to heaven where Christ would give us the -once-over. Then he'd ship some of us to hell and give the good ones -harps. Well, since I've found out that all that's hooey I don't believe -in much of anything." - -"I suppose you are talking about evolution," said Ross. "Well, Prof -Humbert says that evolutions hasn't anything to do with the Bible--He -says that science is science and that religion is religion and that the -two don't mix. He says that he holds by evolution but that that doesn't -make Christ's philosophy bad." - -"No," Burbank agreed, "it doesn't make it bad; but that isn't the point. -I've read the Bible, which I bet is more than the rest of you can say, -and I've read the Sermon on the Mount a dozen times. It's darn good -sense, but what good does it do? The world will never practice Christ's -philosophy. The Bible says, 'Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly -upward,' and, believe me, that's damn true. If people would be pure and -good, then Christ's philosophy would work, but they aren't pure and -good; they aren't made pure and good, they're made selfish, and bad: -they're made, mind you, made full of evil and lust. I tell you it's all -wrong. I've been reading and reading, and the more I read the more I'm -convinced that we're all rotten--and that if there is a god he made us -rotten." - -"You're wrong!" They all turned toward Winsor, who was still standing by -the fireplace; even Ferguson rolled over and looked at the excited boy. -"You're wrong," he repeated, "all wrong. I admit all that's been said -about parents. They do cheat us just as Don said. I never tell my folks -anything that really matters, and I don't know any other fellows that -do, either. I suppose there are some, but I don't know them. And I admit -that there is sin and vice, but I don't admit that Christ's philosophy -is useless. I've read the Sermon on the Mount, too. That's about all of -the Bible that I have read, but I've read that; and I tell you you're -all wrong. There is enough good in man to make that philosophy -practical. Why, there is more kindness and goodness around than we know -about. We see the evil, and we know we have lusts and--and things, but -we do good, too. And Hugh was right when he talked a while ago about the -beauty in the world. There's lots of it, lots and lots of it. There's -beautiful poetry and beautiful music and beautiful scenery; and there -are people who appreciate all of it. I tell you that in spite of -everything life is worth living. And I believe in Christ's philosophy, -too. I don't know whether He is the son of God or not--I think that He -must be--but that doesn't make any difference. Look at the wonderful -influence He has had." - -"Rot," said Burbank calmly, "absolute rot. There has never been a good -deed done in His name; just the Inquisition and the what-do-you-call-'ems -in Russia. Oh, yes, pogroms--and wars and robbing people. Christianity -is just a name; there isn't any such thing. And most of the professional -Christians that I've seen are damn fools. I tell you, George, it's all -wrong. We're all in the dark, and I don't believe the profs know any more -about it than we do." - -"Oh, yes, they do," Hugh exclaimed; "they must. Think of all the -studying they've done." - -"Bah." Burbank was contemptuous. "They've read a lot of books, that's -all. Most of them never had an idea in their lives. Oh, I know that -some of them think; if they didn't, I'd leave college to-morrow. It's -men like Davis and Maxwell and Henley and Jimpson who keep me here. But -most of the profs can't do anything more than spout a few facts that -they've got out of books. No, they don't know any more about it than we -do. We don't know why we're here or where we're going or what we ought -to do while we are here. And we get into groups and tell smutty stories -and talk about women and religion, and we don't know any more than when -we started. Think of all the talk that goes on around this college about -sex. There's no end to it. Some of the fellows say positively there's no -sense in staying straight; and a few, damn few, admit that they think a -fellow ought to leave women alone, but most of them are in a muddle." - -He rose and stretched. "I've got to be going--philosophy quiz -to-morrow." He smiled. "I don't agree with Nutter, and I don't agree -with George, and I don't agree with you, Don; and the worst of it is -that I don't agree with myself. You fellows can bull about this some -more if you want to; I've got to study." - -"No, they can't," said Ross. "Not here, anyway. I've got to study, too. -The whole of you'll have to get out." - -The boys rose and stretched. Ferguson rolled lazily off the couch. -"Well," he said with a yawn, "this has been very edifying. I've heard -it all before in a hundred bull sessions, and I suppose I'll hear it all -again. I don't know why I've hung around. There's a little dame that -I've got to write a letter to, and, believe me, she's a damn sight more -interesting than all your bull." He strolled out of the door, drawling a -slow "good night" over his shoulder. - -Hugh went to his room and thought over the talk. He was miserably -confused. Like Ferguson he had believed everything that his father and -mother--and the minister--had told him, and he found himself beginning -to discard their ideas. There didn't seem to be any ideas to put in the -place of those he discarded. Until Carl's recent confidence he had -believed firmly in chastity, but he discovered, once the first shock had -worn off, that he liked Carl the unchaste just as much as he had Carl -the chaste. Carl seemed neither better nor worse for his experience. - -He was lashed by desire; he was burning with curiosity--and yet, and yet -something held him back. Something--he hardly knew what it was--made him -avoid any woman who had a reputation for moral laxity. He shrank from -such a woman--and desired her so intensely that he was ashamed. - -Life was suddenly becoming very complicated, more complicated, it -seemed, every day. With other undergraduates he discussed women and -religion endlessly, but he never reached any satisfactory conclusions. -He wished that he knew some professor that he could talk to. Surely some -of them must know the answers to his riddles.... - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Hugh wasn't troubled only by religion and sex; the whole college was -disturbing his peace of mind: all of his illusions were being ruthlessly -shattered. He had supposed that all professors were wise men, that their -knowledge was almost limitless, and he was finding that many of the -undergraduates were frankly contemptuous of the majority of their -teachers and that he himself was finding inspiration from only a few of -them. He went to his classes because he felt that he had to, but in most -of them he was confused or bored. He learned more in the bull sessions -than he did in the class-room, and men like Ross and Burbank were -teaching him more than his instructors. - -Further, Nu Delta was proving a keen disappointment. More and more he -found himself thinking of Malcolm Graham's talk to him during the -rushing season of his freshman year. He often wished that Graham were -still in college so that he could go to him for advice. The fraternity -was not the brotherhood that he had dreamed about; it was composed of -several cliques warring with each other, never coalescing into a single -group except to contest the control of a student activity with some -other fraternity. There were a few "brothers" that Hugh liked, but most -of them were not his kind at all. Many of them were athletes taken into -the fraternity because they were athletes and for no other reason, and -although Hugh liked two of the athletes--they were really splendid -fellows--he was forced to admit that three of them were hardly better -than thugs, cheap muckers with fine bodies. Then there were the snobs, -usually prep school men with more money than they could handle wisely, -utterly contemptuous of any man not belonging to a fraternity or of one -belonging to any of the lesser fraternities. These were the "smooth -boys," interested primarily in clothes and "parties," passing their -courses by the aid of tutors or fraternity brothers who happened to -study. - -Hugh felt that he ought to like all of his fraternity brothers, but, try -as he would, he disliked the majority of them. Early in his sophomore -year he knew that he ought to have "gone" Delta Sigma Delta, that that -fraternity contained a group of men whom he liked and respected, most of -them, at least. They weren't prominent in student activities, but they -were earnest lads as a whole, trying hard to get something out of -college. - -The Nu Delta meetings every Monday night were a revelation to him. The -brothers were openly bored; they paid little or no attention to the -business before them. The president was constantly calling for order -and not getting it. During the rushing season in the second term, -interest picked up. Freshmen were being discussed. Four questions were -inevitably asked. Did the freshman have money? Was he an athlete? Had he -gone to a prep school? What was his family like? - -Hugh had been very much attracted by a lad named Parker. He was a -charming youngster with a good mind and beautiful manners. In general, -only bad manners were _au fait_ at Sanford; so Parker was naturally -conspicuous. Hugh proposed his name for membership to Nu Delta. - -"He's a harp," said a brother scornfully. "At any rate, he's a -Catholic." - -That settled that. Only Protestants were eligible to Nu Delta at -Sanford, although the fraternity had no national rule prohibiting -members of other religions. - -The snobbery of the fraternity cut Hugh deeply. He was a friendly lad -who had never been taught prejudice. He even made friends with a Jewish -youth and was severely censured by three fraternity brothers for that -friendship. He was especially taken to task by Bob Tucker, the -president. - -"Look here, Hugh," Tucker said sternly, "you've got to draw the line -somewhere. I suppose Einstein is a good fellow and all that, but you've -been running around with him a lot. You've even brought him here -several times. Of course, you can have anybody in your room you want, -but we don't want any Jews around the house. I don't see why you had to -pick him up, anyway. There's plenty of Christians in college." - -"He's a first-class fellow," Hugh replied stubbornly, "and I like him. I -don't see why we have to be so high-hat about Jews and Catholics. Most -of the fraternities take in Catholics, and the Phi Thetas take in Jews; -at least, they've got two. They bid Einstein, but he turned them down; -his folks don't want him to join a fraternity. And Chubby Elson told me -that the Theta Kappas wanted him awfully, but they have a local rule -against Jews." - -"That doesn't make any difference," Tucker said sharply. "We don't want -him around here. Because some of the fraternities are so damn -broad-minded isn't any reason that we ought to be. I don't see that -their broad-mindedness is getting them anything. We rate about ten times -as much as the Phi Thetas or the Theta Kappas, and the reason we do is -that we are so much more exclusive." - -Hugh wanted to mention the three Nu Delta thugs, but he wisely -restrained himself. "All right," he said stubbornly, "I won't bring -Einstein around here again, and I won't bring Parker either. But I'll -see just as much of them as I want to. My friends are my friends, and -if the fraternity doesn't like them, it can leave them alone. I pledged -loyalty to the fraternity, but I'll be damned if I pledged my life to -it." He got up and started for the door, his blue eyes dark with anger. -"I hate snobs," he said viciously, and departed. - -After rushing season was over, he rarely entered that fraternity house, -chumming mostly with Carl, but finding friends in other fraternities or -among non-fraternity men. He was depressed and gloomy, although his -grades for the first term had been respectable. Nothing seemed very much -worth while, not even making his letter on the track. He was gradually -taking to cigarettes, and he had even had a nip or two out of a flask -that Carl had brought to the room. He had read the "Rubaiyat," and it -made a great impression on him. He and Carl often discussed the poem, -and more and more Hugh was beginning to believe in Omar's philosophy. At -least, he couldn't answer the arguments presented in Fitzgerald's -beautiful quatrains. The poem both depressed and thrilled him. After -reading it, he felt desperate--and ready for anything, convinced that -the only wise course was to take the cash and let the credit go. He was -much too young to hear the rumble of the distant drum. Sometimes he was -sure that there wasn't a drum, anyway. - -He was particularly blue one afternoon when Carl rushed into the room -and urged him to go to Hastings, a town five miles from Haydensville. - -"Jim Pearson's outside with his car," Carl said excitedly, "and he'll -take us down. He's got to come right back--he's only going for some -booze--but we needn't come back if we don't want to. We'll have a drink -and give Hastings the once-over. How's to come along?" - -"All right," Hugh agreed indifferently and began to pull on his baa-baa -coat. "I'm with you. A shot of gin might jazz me up a little." - -Once in Hastings, Pearson drove to a private residence at the edge of -the town. The boys got out of the car and filed around to the back door, -which was opened to their knock by a young man with a hatchet face and -hard blue eyes. - -"Hello, Mr. Pearson," he said with an effort to be pleasant. "Want some -gin?" - -"Yes, and some Scotch, too, Pete--if you have it. I'll take two quarts -of Scotch and one of gin." - -"All right." Pete led the way down into the cellar, switching on an -electric light when he reached the foot of the stairs. There was a small -bar in the rear of the dingy, underground room, a table or two, and -dozens of small boxes stacked against the wall. - -It was Hugh's first visit to a bootlegger's den, and he was keenly -interested. He had a high-ball along with Carl and Pearson; then took -another when Carl offered to stand treat. Pearson bought his three -quarts of liquor, paid Pete, and departed alone, Carl and Hugh having -decided to have another drink or two before they returned to -Haydensville. After a second high-ball Hugh did not care how many he -drank and was rather peevish when Carl insisted that he stop with a -third. Pete charged them eight dollars for their drinks, which they -cheerfully paid, and then warily climbed the stairs and stumbled out -into the cold winter air. - -"Brr," said Carl, buttoning his coat up to his chin; "it's cold as -hell." - -"So 'tis," Hugh agreed; "so 'tis. So 'tis. That's pretty. So 'tis, so -'tis, so 'tis. Isn't that pretty, Carl?" - -"Awful pretty. Say it again." - -"So 'tis. So 'tish. So--so--so. What wush it, Carl?" - -"So 'tis." - -"Oh, yes. So 'tish." - -They walked slowly, arm in arm, toward the business section of Hastings, -pausing now and then to laugh joyously over something that appealed to -them as inordinately funny. Once it was a tree, another time a farmer in -a sleigh, and a third time a Ford. Hugh insisted, after laughing until -he wept, that the Ford was the "funniest goddamned thing" he'd ever -seen. Carl agreed with him. - -They were both pretty thoroughly drunk by the time they reached the -center of the town, where they intended getting the bus back to -Haydensville. Two girls passed them and smiled invitingly. - -"Oh, what peaches," Carl exclaimed. - -"Jush--jush--Jush swell," Hugh said with great positiveness, hanging on -to Carl's arm. "They're the shwellest Janes I've ever sheen." - -The girls, who were a few feet ahead, turned and smiled again. - -"Let's pick them up," Carl whispered loudly. - -"Shure," and Hugh started unsteadily to increase his pace. - -The girls were professional prostitutes who visited Hastings twice a -year "to get the Sanford trade." They were crude specimens, revealing -their profession to the most casual observer. If Hugh had been sober -they would have sickened him, but he wasn't sober; he was joyously drunk -and the girls looked very desirable. - -"Hello, girls," Carl said expansively, taking hold of one girl's arm. -"Busy?" - -"Bish-bishy?" Hugh repeated valiantly. - -The older "girl" smiled, revealing five gold teeth. - -"Of course not," she replied in a hard, flat voice. "Not too busy for -you boys, anyway. Come along with us and we'll make this a big -afternoon." - -"Sure," Carl agreed. - -"Sh-shure," Hugh stuttered. He reached forward to take the arm of the -girl who had spoken, but at the same instant some one caught him by the -wrist and held him still. - -Harry Slade, the star football player and this year's captain, happened -to be in Hastings; he was, in fact, seeking these very girls. He had -intended to pass on when he saw two men with them, but as soon as he -recognized Hugh he paused and then impulsively strode forward. - -"Here, Carver," he said sharply. "What are you doing?" - -"None--none of you da-damn business," Hugh replied angrily, trying to -shake his wrist free. "Leggo of me or--or I'll--I'll--" - -"You won't do anything," 'Slade interrupted. "You're going home with -me." - -"Who in hell are you?" one of the girls asked viciously. "Mind your own -damn business." - -"You mind yours, sister, or you'll get into a peck of trouble. This -kid's going with me--and don't forget that. Come on, Carver." - -Hugh was still vainly trying to twist his wrist free and was muttering, -"Leggo, leggo o' me." - -Slade jerked him across the sidewalk. Carl followed expostulating. "Get -the hell out of here, Peters," Slade said angrily, "or I'll knock your -fool block off. You chase off with those rats if you want to, but you -leave Carver with me if you know what's good for you." He shoved Carl -away, and Carl was sober enough to know that Slade meant what he said. -Each girl took him by an arm, and he walked off down the street between -them, almost instantly forgetting Hugh. - -Fortunately the street was nearly deserted, and no one had witnessed the -little drama. Hugh began to sob drunkenly. Slade grasped his shoulders -and shook him until his head waggled. "Now, shut up!" Slade commanded -sharply. He took Hugh by the arm and started down the street with him, -Hugh still muttering, "Leggo, leggo o' me." - -Slade walked him the whole five miles back to Haydensville, and before -they were half way home Hugh's head began to clear. For a time he felt a -little sick, but the nausea passed, and when they reached the campus he -was quite sober. Not a word was spoken until Hugh unlocked the door of -Surrey 19. Then Slade said: "Go wash your face and head in cold water. -Souse yourself good and then come back; I want to have a talk with you." - -Hugh obeyed orders, but with poor grace. He was angry and confused, -angry because his liberty had been interfered with, and confused because -Slade had never paid more than passing attention to him--and for a year -and a half Slade had been his god. - -Slade was one of those superb natural athletes who make history for many -colleges. He was big, powerfully built, and moved as easily as a -dancer. His features were good enough, but his brown eyes were dull and -his jaw heavy rather than strong. Hugh had often heard that Slade -dissipated violently, but he did not believe the rumors; he was positive -that Slade could not be the athlete he was if he dissipated. He had been -thrilled every time Slade had spoken to him--the big man of the college, -the one Sanford man who had ever made All American, as Slade had this -year. - -When he returned to his room from the bath-room, Slade was sitting in a -big chair smoking a cigarette. Hugh walked into his bedroom, combed his -dripping hair, and then came into the study, still angry but feeling a -little sheepish and very curious. - -"Well, what is it?" he demanded, sitting down. - -"Do you know who those women were?" - -"No. Who are they?" - -"They're Bessie Haines and Emma Gleeson; at least, that's what they call -themselves, and they're rotten bags." - -Hugh had a little quiver of fright, but he felt that he ought to defend -himself. - -"Well, what of it?" he asked sullenly. "I don't see as you had any right -to pull me away. You never paid any attention before to me. Why this -sudden interest? How come you're so anxious to guard my purity?" - -Slade was embarrassed. He threw his cigarette into the fireplace and -immediately lighted another one. Then he looked at his shoes and -muttered, "I'm a pretty bad egg myself." - -"So I've heard." Hugh was frankly sarcastic. - -"Well, I am." Slade looked up defiantly. "I guess it's up to me to -explain--and I don't know how to do it. I'm a dumbbell. I can't talk -decently. I flunked English One three times, you know." He hesitated a -moment and then blurted out, "I was looking for those bags myself." - -"What?" Hugh leaned forward and stared at him, bewildered and -dumfounded. "_You_ were looking for them?" - -"Yeah... You see, I'm a bad egg--always been a bad one with women, ever -since I was a kid. Gotta have one about every so often.... I--I'm not -much." - -"But what made you stop me?" Hugh pressed his hand to his temple. His -head was aching, and he could make nothing out of Slade's talk. - -"Because--because.... Oh, hell, Carver, I don't know how to explain it. -I'm twenty-four and you're about nineteen and I know a lot that you -don't. I was brought up in South Boston and I ran with a gang. There -wasn't anything rotten that we didn't do.... I've been watching you. -You're different." - -"How different?" Hugh demanded. "I want women just as much as you do." - -"That isn't it." Slade ran his fingers through his thick black hair and -scowled fiercely at the fireplace. "That isn't it at all. You're--you're -awfully clean and decent. I've been watching you lots--oh, for a year. -You're--you're different," he finished lamely. - -Hugh was beginning to understand. "Do you mean," he asked slowly, "that -you want me to keep straight--that--that, well--that you like me that -way better?" He was really asking Slade if he admired him, and Slade got -his meaning perfectly. To Hugh the idea was preposterous. Why, Slade had -made every society on the campus; he had been given every honor that the -students could heap on him--and he envied Hugh, an almost unknown -sophomore. Why, it was ridiculous. - -"Yes, that's what I mean; that's what I was trying to get at." For a -minute Slade hesitated; he wasn't used to giving expression to his -confused emotions, and he didn't know how to go about it. "I'd--I'd like -to be like you; that's it. I--I didn't want you to be like me.... Those -women are awful bags. Anything might happen." - -"Why didn't you stop Carl Peters, too, then?" - -"Peters knows his way about. He can take care of himself. You're -different, though.... You've never been drunk before, have you?" - -"No. No, I never have." Hugh's irritation was all gone. He was touched, -deeply touched, by Slade's clumsy admiration, and he felt weak, -emotionally exhausted after his little spree. "It's awfully good of you -to--to think of me that way. I'm--I'm glad you stopped me." - -Slade stood up. He felt that he had better be going. He couldn't tell -Hugh how much he liked and admired him, how much he envied him. He was -altogether sentimental about the boy, entirely devoted to him. He had -wanted to talk to Hugh more than Hugh had wanted to talk to him, but he -had never felt that he had anything to offer that could possibly -interest Hugh. It was a strange situation; the hero had put the hero -worshiper on a high, white marble pedestal. - -He moved toward the door. "So long," he said as casually as he could. - -Hugh jumped up and rushed to him. "I'm awfully grateful to you, Harry," -he said impulsively. "It was damn white of you. I--I don't know how to -thank you." He held out his hand. - -Slade gripped it for a moment, and then, muttering another "So long," -passed out of the door. - -Hugh was more confused than ever and grew steadily more confused as the -days passed. He couldn't understand why Slade, frankly unchaste himself, -should consider his chastity so important. He was genuinely glad that -Slade had rescued him, genuinely grateful, but his confusion about all -things sexual was more confounded. The strangest thing was that when he -told Carl about Slade's talk, Carl seemed to understand perfectly, -though he never offered a satisfactory explanation. - -"I know how he feels," Carl said, "and I'm awfully glad he butted in and -pulled you away. I'd hate to see you messing around with bags like that -myself, and if I hadn't been drunk I wouldn't have let you. I'm more -grateful to him than you are. Gee! I'd never have forgiven myself," he -concluded fervently. - - * * * * * - -Just when the Incident was beginning to occupy less of Hugh's thoughts, -it was suddenly brought back with a crash. He came home from the -gymnasium one afternoon to find Carl seated at his desk writing. He -looked up when Hugh came in, tore the paper into fragments, and tossed -them info the waste-basket. - -"Guess I'd better tell you," he said briefly. "I was just writing a note -to you." - -"To me? Why?" - -Carl pointed to his suit-case standing by the center-table. - -"That's why." - -"Going away on a party?" - -"My trunk left an hour ago. I'm going away for good." Carl's voice was -husky, and he spoke with an obvious effort. - -Hugh walked quickly to the desk. "Why, old man, what's the matter? -Anything wrong with your mother? You're not sick, are you?" - -Carl laughed, briefly, bitterly. "Yes, I'm sick all right. I'm sick." - -Hugh, worried, looked at him seriously. "Why, what's the matter? I -didn't know that you weren't feeling well." - -Carl looked at the rug and muttered, "You remember those rats we picked -up in Hastings?" - -"Yes?" - -"Well, I know of seven fellows they've sent home." - -"What!" Hugh cried, his eyes wide with horror. "You don't mean that -you--that you--" - -"I mean exactly that," Carl replied in a low, flat voice. He rose and -moved to the other side of the room. "I mean exactly that; and Doc -Conners agrees with me," he added sarcastically. Then more softly, "He's -got to tell the dean. That's why I'm going home." - -Hugh was swept simultaneously by revulsion and sympathy. "God, I'm -sorry," he exclaimed. "Oh, Carl, I'm so damn sorry." - -Carl was standing by Hugh's desk, his hands clenched, his lips -compressed. "Keep my junk," he said unevenly, "and sell anything you -want to if you live in the house next year." - -"But you'll be back?" - -"No, I won't come back--I won't come back." He was having a hard time -to keep back the tears and bit his trembling lip mercilessly. "Oh, -Hugh," he suddenly cried, "what will my mother say?" - -Hugh was deeply distressed, but he was startled by that "my mother." It -was the first time he had ever heard Carl speak of his mother except as -the "old lady." - -"She will understand," he said soothingly. - -"How can she? How can she? God, Hugh, God!" He buried his face in his -hands and wept bitterly. Hugh put his arm around his shoulder and tried -to comfort him, and in a few minutes Carl was in control of himself -again. He dried his eyes with his handkerchief. - -"What a fish I am!" he said, trying to grin. "A goddamn fish." He looked -at his watch. "Hell, I've got to be going if I'm going to make the five -fifteen," He picked up his suit-case and held out his free hand. -"There's something I want to say to you, Hugh, but I guess I'll write -it. Please don't come to the train with me." He gripped Hugh's hand hard -for an instant and then was out of the door and down the hall before -Hugh had time to say anything. - -Two days afterward the letter came. The customary "Dear brother" and -"Fraternally yours" were omitted. - - - Dear Hugh: - - I've thought of letters yards long but I'm not going to - write them. I just want to say that you are the finest - thing that ever happened to me outside of my mother, and - I respect you more than any fellow I've ever known. I'm - ashamed because I started you drinking and I hope you'll - stop it. I feel toward you the way Harry Slade does, - only more I guess. You've done an awful lot for me. - - I want to ask a favor of you. Please leave women alone. - Keep straight, please. You don't know how much I want - you to do that. - - Thanks for all you've done for me. - - CARL. - - -Hugh's eyes filled with tears when he read that letter. Carl seemed a -tragic figure to him, and he missed him dreadfully. Poor old Carl! What -hell it must have been to tell his mother! "And he wants me to keep -straight. By God, I will.... I'll try to, anyhow." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Hugh's depression was not continuous by any means. He was much too young -and too healthy not to find life an enjoyable experience most of the -time. Disillusionment followed disillusionment, each one painful and -dispiriting in itself, but they came at long enough intervals for him to -find a great deal of pleasure in between. - -Also, for the first time since he had been transferred from Alling's -section in Latin, he was taking genuine interest in a course. Having -decided to major in English, he found that he was required to take a -composition course the second half of his sophomore year. His instructor -was Professor Henley, known as Jimmie Henley among the students, a man -in his middle thirties, spare, neat in his dress, sharp with his tongue, -apt to say what he thought in terms so plain that not even the stupidest -undergraduate could fail to understand him. His hazel-brown eyes were -capable of a friendly twinkle, but they had a way of darkening suddenly -and snapping that kept his students constantly on the alert. There was -little of the professor about him but a great deal of the teacher. - -Hugh went to his first conference with him not entirely easy in his -mind. Henley had a reputation for "tearing themes to pieces and making a -fellow feel like a poor fish." Hugh had written his themes hastily, as -he had during his freshman year, and he was afraid that Henley might -discover evidences of that haste. - -Henley was leaning back in his swivel chair, his feet on the desk, a -brier pipe in his mouth, as Hugh entered the cubbyhole of an office. -Down came the feet with a bang. - -"Hello, Carver," Henley said cheerfully. "Come in and sit down while I -go through your themes." He motioned to a chair by the desk. Hugh -muttered a shy "hello" and sat down, watching Henley expectantly and -rather uncomfortably. - -Henley picked up three themes. Then he turned his keen eyes on Hugh. -"I've already read these. Lazy cuss, aren't you?" he asked amiably. - -Hugh flushed. "I--I suppose so." - -"You know that you are; no supposing to it." He slapped the desk lightly -with the themes. "First drafts, aren't they?" - -"Yes, sir." Hugh felt his cheeks getting warmer. - -Henley smiled. "Thanks for not lying. If you had lied, this conference -would have ended right now. Oh, I wouldn't have told you that I thought -you were lying; I would simply have made a few polite but entirely -insincere comments about your work and let you go. Now I am going to -talk to you frankly and honestly." - -"I wish you would," Hugh murmured, but he wasn't at all sure that he -wished anything of the sort. - -Henley knocked the ashes out of his pipe into a metal tray, refilled it, -lighted it, and then puffed meditatively, gazing at Hugh with kind but -speculative eyes. - -"I think you have ability," he began slowly. "You evidently write with -great fluency and considerable accuracy, and I can find poetic touches -here and there that please me. But you are careless, abominably -careless, lazy. Whatever virtues there are in your themes come from a -natural gift, not from any effort you made to say the thing in the best -way. Now, I'm not going to spend anytime discussing these themes in -detail; they aren't worth it." - -He pointed his pipe at Hugh. "The point is exactly this," he said -sternly. "I'll never spend any time discussing your themes so long as -you turn in hasty, shoddy work. I can see right now that you can get a C -in this course without trying. If that's all you want, all right, I'll -give it to you--and let it go at that. The Lord knows that I have enough -to do without wasting time on lazy youngsters who haven't sense enough -to develop their gifts. If you continue to turn in themes like these, -I'll give you C's or D's on them and let you dig your own shallow grave -by yourself. But If you want to try to write as well as you can, I'll -give you all the help in my power. Not one minute can you have so long -as you don't try, but you can have hours if you do try. Furthermore, you -will find writing a pleasure if you write as well as you can, but you -won't get any sport just scribbling off themes because you have to." - -He paused to toss the three themes across the desk to Hugh, who was -watching him with astonishment. No instructor had ever talked to him -that way before. - -"You can rewrite these themes if you want to," Henley went on. "I -haven't graded them, and I'll reserve the grades for the rewritten -themes; and if I find that you have made a real effort, I'll discuss -them in detail with you. What do you say?" - -"I'd like to rewrite them," Hugh said softly. "I know they are rotten." - -"No, they aren't rotten. I've got dozens that are worse. That isn't the -point. They aren't nearly so good as you can make them, and only your -best work is acceptable to me. Now show me what you can do with them, -and then we'll tear them to shreds in regular fashion." He turned to his -desk and smiled at Hugh, who, understanding that the conference was -over, stood up and reached for the themes. "I'll be interested in -seeing what you can do with those," Henley concluded. "Every one of them -has a good idea. Go to it--and get them back in a week." - -"Yes, sir. Thanks very much." - -"Right-o. Good-by." - -"Good-by, sir," and Hugh left the office determined to rewrite those -themes so that "they'd knock Jimmie Henley's eye out." They didn't do -exactly that, but they did interest him, and he spent an hour and a half -discussing them with Hugh. - -That was merely the first of a series of long conferences. Sometimes -Henley and Hugh discussed writing, but often they talked about other -subjects, not as instructor and student but as two men who respected -each other's mind. Before the term was out Henley had invited Hugh to -his home for dinner and to meet Mrs. Henley. Hugh was enormously -flattered and, for some reason, stimulated to do better work. He found -his talks with Henley really exciting, and he expressed his opinions to -him as freely and almost as positively as he did to his classmates. He -told his friends that Jimmie Henley was human, not like most profs. And -he worked at his writing as he had never worked at anything, running -excepted, since he had been in college. - -The students never knew what to expect from Henley in the class-room. -Sometimes he read themes and criticized them; sometimes he discussed -books that he had been reading; sometimes he read poetry, not because -contemporary poetry was part of the course but because he happened to -feel like reading it that morning; sometimes he discoursed on the art of -writing; and sometimes he talked about anything that happened to be -occupying his mind. He made his class-room an open forum, and the -students felt free to interrupt him at any time and to disagree with -him. Usually they did disagree with him and afterward wrote violent -themes to prove that he was wrong. That was exactly what Henley wanted -them to do, and the more he could stir them up the better satisfied he -was. - -One morning, however, he talked without interruption. He didn't want to -be interrupted, and the boys were so taken back by his statements that -they could find no words to say anything. - -The bell rang. Henley called the roll, stuck his class-book into his -coat pocket, placed his watch on the desk; then leaned back and looked -the class over. - -"Your themes are making me sick," he began, "nauseated. I have a fairly -strong stomach, but there is just so much that I can stand--and you have -passed the limit. There is hardly a man in this class who hasn't written -at least one theme on the glory that is Sanford. As you know, I am a -Sanford man myself, and I have my share of affection for the college, -but you have reached an ecstasy of chauvinism that makes Chauvin's -affection for Napoleon seem almost like contempt. - -"In the last batch of themes I got five telling me of the perfection of -Sanford: Sanford is the greatest college in the country; Sanford has the -best athletes, the finest equipment, the most erudite faculty, the most -perfect location, the most loyal alumni, the strongest spirit--the most -superlative everything. Nonsense! Rot! Bunk! Sanford hasn't anything of -the sort, and I who love it say so. Sanford is a good little college, -but it isn't a Harvard, a Yale, or a Princeton, or, for that matter, a -Dartmouth or Brown; and those colleges still have perfection ahead of -them. Sanford has made a place for itself in the sun, but it will never -find a bigger place so long as its sons do nothing but chant its praises -and condemn any one as disloyal who happens to mention its very numerous -faults. - -"Well, I'm going to mention some of those faults, not all of them by any -means, just those that any intelligent undergraduate ought to be able to -see for himself. - -"In the first place, this is supposed to be an educational institution; -it is endowed for that purpose and it advertises itself as such. And you -men say that you come here to get an education. But what do you really -do? You resist education with all your might and main, digging your -heels into the gravel of your own ignorance and fighting any attempt to -teach you anything every inch of the way. What's worse, you aren't -content with your own ignorance; you insist that every one else be -ignorant, too. Suppose a man attempts to acquire culture, as some of -them do. What happens? He is branded as wet. He is a social leper. - -"Wet! What currency that bit of slang has--and what awful power. It took -me a long time to find out what the word meant, but after long research -I think that I know. A man is wet if he isn't a 'regular guy'; he is wet -if he isn't 'smooth'; he is wet if he has intellectual interests and -lets the mob discover them; and, strangely enough, he is wet by the same -token if he is utterly stupid. He is wet if he doesn't show at least a -tendency to dissipate, but he isn't wet if he dissipates to excess. A -man will be branded as wet for any of these reasons, and once he is so -branded, he might as well leave college; if he doesn't, he will have a -lonely and hard row to hoe. It is a rare undergraduate who can stand the -open contempt of his fellows." - -He paused, obviously ordering his thoughts before continuing. The boys -waited expectantly. Some of them were angry, some amused, a few in -agreement, and all of them intensely interested. - -Henley leaned back in his chair. "What horrible little conformers you -are," he began sarcastically, "and how you loathe any one who doesn't -conform! You dress both your bodies and your minds to some set model. -Just at present you are making your hair foul with some sort of perfumed -axle-grease; nine tenths of you part it in the middle. It makes no -difference whether the style is becoming to you or not; you slick it -down and part it in the middle. Last year nobody did it; the chances are -that next year nobody will do it, but anybody who doesn't do it right -now is in danger of being called wet." - -Hugh had a moment of satisfaction. He did not pomade his hair, and he -parted it on the side as he had when he came to college. True, he had -tried the new fashion, but after scanning himself carefully in the -mirror, he decided that he looked like a "blond wop"--and washed his -hair. He was guilty, however, of the next crime mentioned. - -"The same thing is true of clothes," Henley was saying. "Last year every -one wore four-button suits and very severe trousers. This year every one -is wearing Norfolk jackets and bell-bottomed trousers, absurd things -that flop around the shoes, and some of them all but trail on the -ground. Now, any one who can't afford the latest creation or who -declines to wear it is promptly called wet. - -"And, as I said before, you insist on the same standardization of your -minds. Just now it is not _au fait_ to like poetry; a man who does is -exceedingly wet, indeed; he is effeminate, a sissy. As a matter of -fact, most of you like poetry very much. You never give me such good -attention as when I read poetry. What's more, some of you are writing -the disgraceful stuff. But what happens when a man does submit a poem as -a theme? He writes at the bottom of the page, 'Please do not read this -in class.' Some of you write that because you don't think that the poem -is very good, but most of you are afraid of the contempt of your -classmates. I know of any number of men in this college who read vast -quantities of poetry, but always on the sly. Just think of that! Men pay -thousands of dollars and give four years of their lives supposedly to -acquire culture and then have to sneak off into a corner to read poetry. - -"Who are your college gods? The brilliant men who are thinking and -learning, the men with ideals and aspirations? Not by a long shot. They -are the athletes. Some of the athletes happen to be as intelligent and -as eager to learn as anybody else, but a fair number are here simply -because they are paid to come to play football or baseball or what not. -And they are worshiped, bowed down to, cheered, and adored. The -brilliant men, unless they happen to be very 'smooth' in the bargain, -are considered wet and are ostracized. - -"Such is the college that you write themes about to tell me that it is -perfect. The college is made up of men who worship mediocrity; that is -their ideal except in athletics. The condition of the football field is -a thousand times more important to the undergraduates and the alumni -than the number of books in the library or the quality of the faculty. -The fraternities will fight each other to pledge an athlete, but I have -yet to see them raise any dust over a man who was merely intelligent. - -"I tell you that you have false standards, false ideals, and that you -have a false loyalty to the college. The college can stand criticism; it -will thrive and grow on it--but it won't grow on blind adoration. I tell -you further that you are as standardized as Fords and about as -ornamental. Fords are useful for ordinary work; so are you--and unless -some of you wake up and, as you would say, 'get hep to yourselves,' you -are never going to be anything more than human Fords. - -"You pride yourselves on being the cream of the earth, the noblest work -of God. You are told so constantly. You are the intellectual aristocracy -of America, the men who are going to lead the masses to a brighter and -broader vision of life. Merciful heavens preserve us! You swagger around -utterly contemptuous of the man who hasn't gone to college. You talk -magnificently about democracy, but you scorn the non-college man--and -you try pathetically to imitate Yale and Princeton. And I suppose Yale -and Princeton are trying to imitate Fifth Avenue and Newport. Democracy! -Rot! This college isn't democratic. Certain fraternities condescend to -other fraternities, and those fraternities barely deign even to -condescend to the non-fraternity men. You say hello to everybody on the -campus and think that you are democratic. Don't fool yourselves, and -don't try to fool me. If you want to write some themes about Sanford -that have some sense and truth in them, some honest observation, go -ahead; but don't pass in any more chauvinistic bunk. I'm sick of it." - -He put his watch in his pocket and stood up. "You may belong to the -intellectual aristocracy of the country, but I doubt it; you may lead -the masses to a 'bigger and better' life, but I doubt it; you may be the -cream of the earth, but I doubt it. All I've got to say is this: if -you're the cream of the earth, God help the skimmed milk." He stepped -down from the rostrum and briskly left the room. - -For an instant the boys sat silent, and then suddenly there was a rustle -of excitement. Some of them laughed, some of them swore softly, and most -of them began to talk. They pulled on their baa-baa coats and left the -room chattering. - -"He certainly has the dope," said Pudge Jamieson. "We're a lot of -low-brows pretending to be intellectual high-hats. We're intellectual -hypocrites; that's what we are." - -"How do you get that way?" Ferdy Hillman, who was walking with Hugh and -Pudge, demanded angrily. "We may not be so hot, but we're a damn sight -better than these guys that work in offices and mills. Jimmie Henley -gives me a pain. He shoots off his gab as if he knew everything. He's -got to show me where other colleges have anything on Sanford. He's a -hell of a Sanford man, he is." - -They were walking slowly down the stairs. George Winsor caught up with -them. - -"What did you think of it, George?" Hugh asked. - -Winsor grinned. "He gave me some awful body blows," he said, chuckling. -"Cripes, I felt most of the time that he was talking only to me. I'm -sore all over. What did you think of it? Jimmie's a live wire, all -right." - -"I don't know what to think," Hugh replied soberly. "He's knocked all -the props from under me. I've got to think it over." - -He did think it over, and the more he thought the more he was inclined -to believe that Henley was right. Boy-like, he carried Henley's -statements to their final conclusion and decided that the college was a -colossal failure. He wrote a theme and said so. - -"You're wrong, Hugh," Henley said when he read the theme. "Sanford has -real virtues, a bushel of them. You'll discover them all right before -you graduate." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Sanford's virtues were hard for Hugh to find, and they grew more -inconspicuous as the term advanced. For the time being nothing seemed -worth while: he was disgusted with himself, the undergraduates, and the -fraternity; he felt that the college had bilked him. Often he thought of -the talk he had had with his father before he left for college. -Sometimes that talk seemed funny, entirely idiotic, but sometimes it -infuriated him. What right had his father to send him off to college -with such fool ideas in his head? Nu Delta, the perfect brotherhood! -Bull! How did his father get that way, anyhow? Hugh had yet to learn -that nearly every chapter changes character at least once a decade and -that Nu Delta thirty years earlier had been an entirely different -organization from what it was at present. At times he felt that his -father had deliberately deceived him, but in quieter moments he knew -better; then he realized that his father was a dreamer and an innocent, -a delicately minded man who had never really known anything about -Sanford College or the world either. Hugh often felt older and wiser -than his father; and in many ways he was. - -In March he angered his fraternity brothers again by refusing a part in -the annual musical comedy, which was staged by the Dramatic Society -during Prom week. Hugh's tenor singing voice and rather small features -made him an excellent possibility for a woman's part. But he was not a -good actor, and he knew it. His attempts at acting in a high-school play -had resulted in a flat failure, and he had no intention of publicly -making a fool of himself again. Besides, he did not like the idea of -appearing on the stage as a girl; the mere idea was offensive to him. -Therefore, when the Society offered him a part he declined it. - -Bob Tucker took him severely to task. "What do you mean, Hugh," he -demanded, "by turning down the Dramat? Here you've got a chance for a -lead, and you turn up your nose at it as if you were God Almighty. It -seems to me that you are getting gosh-awful high-hat lately. You run -around with a bunch of thoroughly wet ones; you never come to fraternity -meetings if you can help it; you aren't half training down at the track; -and now you give the Dramat the air just as if an activity or two wasn't -anything in your young life." - -"The Dramat isn't anything to me," Hugh replied, trying to keep his -temper. Tucker's arrogance always made him angry. "I can't act worth a -damn. Never could. I tried once in a play at home and made a poor fish -of myself, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not going to -again." - -"Bunk!" Tucker ejaculated contemptuously. "Hooey! Anybody can act good -enough for the Dramat. I tell you right now that you're turning the -fraternity down; you're playing us dirt. What have you done in college? -Not a goddamn thing except make the Glee Club. I don't care about track. -I suppose you did your best last year, though I know damn well that you -aren't doing it this year. What would become of the fraternity if all of -us parked ourselves on our tails and gave the activities the air the way -you do? You're throwing us down, and we don't like it." - -"Well, I'm not going out for the Dramat," Hugh mumbled sullenly; "you -can just bet on that. I'll admit that I haven't trained the way I ought -to, but I have made the Glee Club, and I have promised to join the Banjo -Club, and I am still on the track squad, and that's more than half the -fellows in this fraternity can say. Most of 'em don't do anything but go -on parties and raise hell generally. How come you're picking on me? Why -don't you ride some of them for a while? I don't see where they're so -hot." - -"Never mind the other fellows." Tucker's black eyes flashed angrily. He -was one of the "hell-raisers" himself, good looking; always beautifully -dressed, and proud of the fact that he was "rated the smoothest man on -the campus." His "smoothness" had made him prominent in activities--that -and his estimate of himself. He took it for granted that he would be -prominent, and the students accepted him at his own valuation; and -powerful Nu Delta had been behind him, always able to swing Votes when -votes were needed. - -"Never mind the other fellows," he repeated. "They're none of your -party. You've got talents, and you're not making use of them. You could -be as popular as the devil if you wanted to, but you go chasing around -with kikes and micks." - -Hugh was very angry and a little absurd in his youthful pomposity. "I -suppose you refer to Parker and Einstein--my one mick friend, although -he isn't Irish, and my, one Jewish friend. Well, I shall stick to them -and see just as much of them as I like. I've told you that before, and -you might as well get me straight right now: I'm going to run with -whoever I want. The fraternity cannot dictate to me about my friends. -You told me you didn't want Parker and Einstein around the house. I -don't bring them around. I don't see as how you've got a right to ask -anything more." - -"I don't suppose you realize that everything you do reflects on the -fraternity," Tucker retorted, slightly pompous himself. - -"I suppose it does, but I can't see that I have done anything that is -going to ruin the name of Nu Delta. I don't get potted regularly or -chase around with filthy bags or flunk my courses or crib my way -through; and I could mention some men in this house who do all those -things." Hugh was thoroughly angry and no longer in possession of his -best judgment. "If you don't like the way I act, you can have my pin any -time you say." He stood up, his blue eyes almost black with rage, his -cheeks flushed, his mouth a thin white line. - -Tucker realized that he had gone too far. "Oh, don't get sore, Hugh," he -said soothingly. "I didn't mean it the way you are taking it. Of course, -we don't want you to turn in your pin. We all like you. We just want you -to come around more and be one of the fellows, more of a regular guy. We -feel that you can bring a lot of honor to the fraternity if you want to, -and we've been kinda sore because you've been giving activities the -go-by." - -"How about my studies?" Hugh retorted. "I suppose you want me to give -them the air. Well, I did the first term, and I made a record that I was -ashamed of. I promised my folks that I'd do better; and I'm going to. I -give an hour or two a day to track and several hours a week to the Glee -Club, and now I'm going to have to give several more to the Banjo Club. -That's all I can give at present, and that's all I'm going to give. I -know perfectly well that some fellows can go out for a bunch of -activities and make Phi Bete, too; but they're sharks and I'm not. Don't -worry, either; I won't disgrace the fraternity by making Phi Bete," he -concluded sarcastically. - -"Oh, calm down, Hugh, and forget what I said," Tucker pleaded, -thoroughly sorry that he had started the argument. "You go ahead and do -what you think right and we'll stand by you." He stood up and put his -hand on Hugh's shoulder. "No hard feelings, are there, old man?" - -Kindness always melted Hugh; no matter how angry he was, he could not -resist it. "No," he said softly; "no hard feelings. I'm sorry I lost my -temper." - -Tucker patted his shoulder. "Oh, that's all right. I guess I kinda lost -mine, too. You'll be around to the meeting to-morrow night, won't you? -Better come. Paying fines don't get you anywhere." - -"Sure, I'll come." - -He went but took no part in the discussion, nor did he frequent the -fraternity house any more than he had previously. More and more he -realized that he had "gone with the wrong crowd," and more and more he -thought of what Graham had said to him in his freshman year about how a -man was in hell if he joined the wrong fraternity. "I was the wise -bird," he told himself caustically; "I was the guy who knew all about -it. Graham saw what would happen, and I didn't have sense enough to -take his advice. Hell, I never even thought about what he told me. I -knew that I would be in heaven if Nu Delta gave me a bid. Heaven! Well, -I'm glad that they were too high-hat for Norry Parker and that he went -with the right bunch." - -Norville Parker was Hugh's Catholic friend, and the more he saw of the -freshman the better he liked him. Parker had received several bids from -fraternities, and he followed the advice Hugh had given him. "If Delta -Sigma Delta bids you, go there," Hugh had said positively. "They're the -bunch you belong with. Apparently the Kappa Zetes are going to bid you, -too. You go Delta Sig if you get the chance." Hugh envied Parker the -really beautiful fraternity life he was leading. "Why in God's name," he -demanded of himself regularly, "didn't I have sense enough to take -Graham's advice?" - -When spring came, the two boys took long walks into the country, both of -them loving the new beauty of the spring and happy in perfect -companionship. Hugh missed Carl badly, and he wanted to ask Parker to -room with him the remainder of the term. He felt, however, that the -fraternity would object, and he wanted no further trouble with Nu Delta. -As a matter of fact, the fraternity would have said nothing, but Hugh -had become hypersensitive and expected his "brothers" to find fault -with his every move. He had no intention of deserting Parker, but he -could not help feeling that rooming with him would be a gratuitous -insult to the fraternity. - -Parker--every one called him Norry--was a slender, delicate lad with -dreamy gray eyes and silky brown hair that, unless he brushed it back -severely, fell in soft curls on his extraordinarily white forehead. -Except for a slightly aquiline nose and a firm jaw, he was almost -effeminate in appearance, his mouth was so sensitive, his hands so white -and slender, his manner so gentle. He had a slow, winning smile, a -quiet, low voice. He was a dreamer and a mystic, a youth who could see -fairies dancing in the shadows; and he told Hugh what he saw. - -"I see things," he said to Hugh one moonlight night as they strolled -through the woods; "I see things, lovely little creatures flitting -around among the trees: I mean I see them when I'm alone. I like to lie -on my back in the meadows and look at the clouds and imagine myself -sitting on a big fellow and sailing and sailing away to heaven. It's -wonderful. I feel that way when I play my fiddle." He played the violin -beautifully and had promptly been made soloist for the Musical Clubs. -"I--I can't explain. Sometimes when I finish playing, I find my eyes -full of tears. I feel as if I had been to some wonderful place, and I -don't want to come back." - -"I guess I'm not like other fellows. I cry over poetry, not because it -makes me sad. It's not that. It's just so beautiful. Why, when I first -read Shelley's 'Cloud' I was almost sick I was so happy. I could hardly -stand it. And when I hear beautiful music I cry, too. Why, when I listen -to Kreisler, I sometimes want to beg him to stop; it hurts and makes me -so happy that--that I just can't stand it," he finished lamely. - -"I know," Hugh said. "I know how it is. I feel that way sometimes, too, -but not as much as you, I guess. I don't cry. I never really cry, but I -want to once in a while. I--I write poetry sometimes," he confessed -awkwardly, "but I guess it's not very good. Jimmie Henley says it isn't -so bad for a sophomore, but I'm afraid that he's just stringing me -along, trying to encourage me, you know. But there are times when I've -said a little bit right, just a little bit, but I've known that it was -right--and then I feel the way you do." - -"I've written lots of poetry," Norry said simply, "but it's no good; -it's never any good." He paused between two big trees and pointed -upward. "Look, look up there. See those black branches and that patch of -sky between them and those stars. I want to picture that--and I can't; -and I want to picture the trees the way they look now so fluffy with -tiny new leaves, but I miss it a million miles.... But I can get it in -music," he added more brightly. "Grieg says it. Music is the most -wonderful thing in the world. I wish I could be a great violinist. I -can't, though. I'm not a genius, and I'm not strong enough. I can't -practice very long." - -They continued walking in silence for a few minutes, and then Norry -said: "I'm awfully happy here at college, and I didn't expect to be, -either. I knew that I was kinda different from other fellows, not so -strong; and I don't like ugly things or smutty stories or anything like -that. I think women are lovely, and I hate to hear fellows tell dirty -stories about them. I'm no fool, Hugh; I know about the things that -happen, but I don't want to hear about them. Things that are dirty and -ugly make me feel sick." - -"Well, I was afraid the fellows would razz me. But they don't. They -don't at all. The fellows over at the Delta Sig house are wonderful to -me. They don't think I'm wet. They don't razz me for not going on wild -parties, though I know that some of the fellows are pretty gay -themselves. They ask me to fiddle for them nearly every evening, and -they sit and listen very, very quietly just as long as I'll play. I'm -glad you told me to go Delta Sig." - -Norry made Hugh feel very old and a little crude and hard. He realized -that there was something rare, almost exquisite, about the boy, and that -he lived largely in a beautiful world of his own imagination. It would -have surprised Norry if any one had told him that his fraternity -brothers stood in awe of him, that they thought he was a genius. Some of -them were built out of pretty common clay, but they felt the almost -unearthly purity of the boy they had made a brother; and the hardest of -them, the crudest, silently elected himself the guardian of that purity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Hugh found real happiness in Norry Parker's companionship, and such men -as Burbank and Winsor were giving him a more robust but no less pleasant -friendship. They were earnest youths, eager and alive, curious about the -world, reading, discussing all sorts of topics vigorously, and yet far -more of the earth earthy than Parker, who was so mystical and dreamy -that constant association with him would have been something of a -strain. - -For a time life seemed to settle down into a pleasant groove of studies -that took not too much time, movies, concerts, an occasional play by the -Dramatic Society, perhaps a slumming party to a dance in Hastings -Saturday nights, bull sessions, long talks with Henley in his office or -at his home, running on the track, and some reading. - -For a week or two life was lifted out of the groove by a professor's -daughter. Burbank introduced Hugh to her, and at first he was attracted -by her calm dignity. He called three times and then gave her up in -despair. Her dignity hid an utterly blank mind. She was as uninteresting -as her father, and he had the reputation, well deserved, of being the -dullest lecturer on the campus. - -Only one event disturbed the pleasant calm of Hugh's life after his -argument with Tucker. He did not attend Prom because he knew no girl -whom he cared to ask; he failed again to make his letter and took his -failure philosophically; and he received a note from Janet Harton -telling him that she was engaged to "the most wonderful man in the -world"--and he didn't give a hoot if she was. - -Just after Easter vacation the Nu Deltas gave their annual house dance. -Hugh looked forward to it with considerable pleasure. True, he was not -"dragging a woman," but several of the brothers were going "stag"; so he -felt completely at ease. - -The freshmen were put to work cleaning the house, the curtains were sent -to the laundry, bedroom closets and dresser drawers were emptied of -anything the girls might find too interesting, and an enormously -expensive orchestra was imported from New York. Finally a number of -young alumni, the four patronesses, and the girls appeared. - -Getting dressed for the dance was a real event in Hugh's life. He had -worn evening clothes only a few times before, but those occasions, -fraternity banquets and glee club concerts, were, he felt, relatively -unimportant. The dance, however, was different, and he felt that he must -look his best, his very "smoothest." He was a rare undergraduate; he -owned everything necessary to wear to an evening function--at least, -everything an undergraduate considered necessary. He did not own a -dress-suit, and he would have had no use for it if he had; only Tuxedos -were worn. - -He dressed with great care, tying and retying his tie until it was -knotted perfectly. When at last he drew on his jacket, he looked himself -over in the mirror with considerable satisfaction. He knew that he was -dressed right. - -It hardly entered his mind that he was an exceedingly good-looking young -man. Vanity was not one of his faults. But he had good reason to be -pleased with the image he was examining for any sartorial defects. He -had brushed his sandy brown hair until it shone; his shave had left his -slender cheeks almost as smooth as a girl's; his blue eyes were very -bright and clear; and the black suit emphasized his blond cleanness: it -was a wholesome-looking, attractive youth who finally pulled on his -top-coat and started happily across the campus for the Nu Delta house. - -The dance was just starting when he arrived. The patronesses were in the -library, a small room off the living-room. Hugh learned later that six -men had been delegated to keep the patronesses in the library and -adequately entertained. The men worked in shifts, and although the dance -lasted until three the next morning, not a patroness got a chance to -wander unchaperoned around the house. - -The living-room of the Nu Delta house was so large that it was -unnecessary to use the dining-room for a dance. Therefore, most of the -big chairs and divans had been moved into the dining-room--and the -dining-room was dark. - -Hugh permitted himself to be presented to the patronesses, mumbled a few -polite words, and then joined the stag line, waiting for a chance to cut -in. Presently a couple moved slowly by, so slowly that they did not seem -to move at all. The girl was Hester Sheville, and Hugh had been -introduced to her in the afternoon. Despite rather uneven features and -red hair, she was almost pretty; and in her green evening gown, which -was cut daringly low, she was flashing and attractive. - -Hugh stepped forward and tapped her partner on the shoulder. The brother -released her with a grimace at Hugh, and Hester, without a word, put her -right hand in Hugh's left and slipped her left arm around his neck. They -danced in silence for a time, bodies pressed close together, swaying in -place, hardly advancing. Presently, however, Hester drew her head back -and spoke. - -"Hot stuff, isn't it?" she asked lazily. - -Hugh was startled. Her breath was redolent of whisky. - -"Sure is," he replied and executed a difficult step, the girl following -him without the slightest difficulty. She danced remarkably, but he was -glad when he was tapped on the shoulder and another brother claimed -Hester. The whisky breath had repelled him. - -As the evening wore on he danced with a good many girls who had whisky -breaths. One girl clung to him as they danced and whispered, "Hold me -up, kid; I'm ginned." He had to rush a third, a dainty blond child, to -the porch railing. She wasn't a pretty sight as she vomited into the -garden; nor did Hugh find her gasped comment, "The seas are rough -to-night," amusing. Another girl went sound asleep in a chair and had to -be carried up-stairs and put to bed. - -A number of the brothers were hilarious; a few had drunk too much and -were sick; one had a "crying jag." There were men there, however, who -were not drinking at all, and they were making gallant efforts to keep -the sober girls away from the less sober girls and the inebriated -brothers. - -Hugh was not drinking. The idea of drinking at a dance was offensive to -him; he thought it insulting to the girls. The fact that some of the -girls were drinking horrified him. He didn't mind their smoking--well, -not very much; but drinking? That was going altogether too far. - -About midnight he danced again with Hester Sheville, not because he -wanted to but because she had insisted. He had been standing gloomily in -the doorway watching the bacchanalian scene, listening to the tom-tom -of the drums when she came up to him. - -"I wanta dance," she said huskily. "I wanta dance with you--you--you -blond beast." Seeing no way to decline to dance with the half-drunk -girl, he put his arm around her and started off. Hester's tongue was no -longer in control, but her feet followed his unerringly. When the music -stopped, she whispered, "Take me--ta-take me to th' th' dining-room." -Wonderingly, Hugh led her across the hall. He had not been in the -dining-room since the dance started, and he was amazed and shocked to -find half a dozen couples in the big chairs or on the divans in close -embrace. He paused, but Hester led him to an empty chair, shoved him -clumsily down into it, and then flopped down on his lap. - -"Le's--le's pet," she whispered. "I wanna pet." - -Again Hugh smelled the whisky fumes as she put her hot mouth to his and -kissed him hungrily. He was angry, angry and humiliated. He tried to get -up, to force the girl off of his lap, but she clung tenaciously to him, -striving insistently to kiss him on the mouth. Finally Hugh's anger got -the better of his manners; he stood up, the girl hanging to his neck, -literally tore her arms off of him, took her by the waist and set her -down firmly in the chair. - -"Sit there," he said softly, viciously; "sit there." - -She began to cry, and he walked rapidly out of the dining-room, his -cheeks flaming and his eyes flashing; and the embracing couples paid no -attention to him at all. He had to pass the door of the library to get -his top-coat--he made up his mind to get out of the "goddamned -house"--and was walking quickly by the door when one of the patronesses -called to him. - -"Oh, Mr. Carver. Will you come here a minute?" - -"Surely, Mrs. Reynolds." He entered the library and waited before the -dowager. - -"I left my wrap up-stairs--in Mr. Merrill's room, I think it is. I am -getting a little chilly. Won't you get it for me?" - -"Of course. It's in Merrill's room?" - -"I think it is. It's right at the head of the stairs. The wrap's blue -with white fur." - -Hugh ran up the stairs, opened Merrill's door, switched on the lights, -and immediately spotted the wrap lying over the back of a chair. He -picked it up and was about to leave the room when a noise behind him -attracted his attention. He turned and saw a man and a girl lying on the -bed watching him. - -Hugh stared blankly at them, his mouth half open. - -"Get th' hell out of here," the man said roughly. - -For an instant Hugh continued to stare; then he whirled about, walked -out of the room, slammed the door behind him, and hurried down the -stairs. He delivered the wrap to Mrs. Reynolds, and two minutes later he -was out of the house walking, almost running, across the campus to -Surrey Hall. Once there, he tore off his top-coat, his jacket, his -collar and tie, and threw himself down into a chair. - -So this was college! This was the fraternity--that goddamned rat house! -That was what he had pledged allegiance to, was it? Those were his -brothers, were they? Brothers! Brothers! - -He fairly leaped out of his chair and began to pace the floor. College! -Gentlemen! A lot of muckers chasing around with a bunch of rats; that's -what they were. Great thing--fraternities. No doubt about it, they were -a great institution. - -He paused in his mental tirade, suddenly conscious of the fact that he -wasn't fair. Some of the fraternities, he knew, would never stand for -any such performance as he had witnessed that evening; most of them, he -was sure, wouldn't. It was just the Nu Deltas and one or two others; -well, maybe three or four. So that's what he had joined, was it? - -He thought of Hester Sheville, of her whisky breath, her lascivious -pawing--and his hands clenched. "Filthy little rat," he said aloud, "the -stinkin', rotten rat." - -Then he remembered that there had been girls there who hadn't drunk -anything, girls who somehow managed to move through the whole orgy calm -and sweet. His anger mounted. It was a hell of a way to treat a decent -girl, to ask her to a dance with a lot of drunkards and soused rats. - -He was warm with anger. Reckless of the buttons, he tore off his -waistcoat and threw it on a chair. The jeweled fraternity pin by the -pocket caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment and then slowly -unpinned it. He let it lie in his hand and addressed it aloud, hardly -aware of the fact that he was speaking at all. - -"So that's what you stand for, is it? For snobs and politicians and -muckers. Well, I don't want any more of you--not--one--damn--bit-- -more--of--you." - -He tossed the pin indifferently upon the center-table, making up his -mind that he would resign from the fraternity the next day. - -When the next day came he found, however, that his anger had somewhat -abated. He was still indignant, but he didn't have the courage to go -through with his resignation. Such an action, he knew, would mean a -great deal of publicity, publicity impossible to avoid. The fraternity -would announce its acceptance of his resignation in "The Sanford Daily -News"; and then he would either have to lie or start a scandal. - -As the days went by and he thought more and more about the dance, he -began to doubt his indignation. Wasn't he after all a prude to get so -hot? Wasn't he perhaps a prig, a sissy? At times he thought that he was; -at other times he was sure that he wasn't. He could be permanently sure -of only one thing, that he was a cynic. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -Hugh avoided the Nu Delta house for the remainder of the term and spent -more time on his studies than he had since he had entered college. The -result was, of course, that he made a good record, and the A that Henley -gave him in English delighted him so much that he almost forgot his -fraternity troubles. Not quite, however. During the first few weeks of -the vacation he often thought of talking to his father about Nu Delta, -but he could not find the courage to destroy his father's illusions. He -found, too, that he couldn't talk to his mother about things that he had -seen and learned at college. Like most of his friends, he felt that "the -folks wouldn't understand." - -He spent the first two months at home working on the farm, but when -Norry Parker invited him to visit him for a month on Long Island Sound, -Hugh accepted the invitation and departed for the Parker summer cottage -in high feather. He was eager to see Norry again, but he was even more -eager to see New York. He had just celebrated his twentieth birthday, -and he considered it disgraceful that he had never visited the "Big -City," as New York was always known at Sanford. Norry met him at Grand -Central, a livelier and more robust Norry than Hugh had ever seen. The -boy actually seemed like a boy and not a sprite; his cheeks were tanned -almost brown, and his gray eyes danced with excitement when he spotted -Hugh in the crowd. - -"Gee, Hugh, I'm glad to see you," he exclaimed, shaking Hugh's hand -joyously. "I'm tickled to death that you could come." - -"So am I," said Hugh heartily, really happy to see Norry looking so -well, and thrilled to be in New York. "Gosh, you look fine. I hardly -know you. Where'd you get all the pep?" - -"Swimming' and sailing. This is the first summer I've been well enough -to swim all I want to. Oh, it's pretty down where we are. You'll love -the nights, Hugh. The Sound is wonderful." - -"I'll bet. Well, where do we go from here? Say, this is certainly a -whale of a station, isn't it? It makes me feel like a hick." - -"Oh, you'll get over that soon enough," Norry, the seasoned New Yorker, -assured him easily. "We're going right out to the cottage. It's too hot -to-day to run around the city, but we'll come in soon and you can give -it the once-over." He took Hugh's arm and led him out of the station. - -It had never entered Hugh's mind that Norry's father might be rich. He -had noticed that Norry's clothes were very well tailored, and Norry had -told him that his violin was a Cremona, but the boy was not lavish with -money and never talked about it at all. Hugh was therefore surprised and -a little startled to see Norry walk up to an expensive limousine with a -uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. He wondered if the Parkers weren't too -high-hat for him? - -"We'll go right home, Martin," Norry said to the chauffeur. "Get in, -Hugh." - -The Parker cottage was a short distance from New Rochelle. It was a -beautiful place, hardly in the style of a Newport "cottage" but roomy -and very comfortable. It was not far from the water, and the Parkers -owned their own boat-house. - -Mrs. Parker was on the veranda when the car drew up at the steps. - -"Hello, Mother," Norry called. - -She got up and ran lightly down the steps, her hand held out in welcome -to Hugh. - -"I know that you are Hugh Carver," she said in a beautifully modulated -voice, "and I am really delighted to meet you. Norry has talked so much -about you that I should have felt cheated if you hadn't come." - -Hugh's fears immediately departed. "I should have myself," he replied. -"It was awfully good of you to invite me." - -After meeting Norry's father and mother, Hugh understood the boy -better. Mrs. Parker was both charming and pretty, a delightful woman who -played the piano with professional skill. Mr. Parker was an artist, a -portrait-painter, and he got prices for his pictures that staggered Hugh -when Norry mentioned them casually. He was a quiet, grave man with gray -eyes like his son's. - -When he had a minute alone with Hugh, he said to him with simple -sincerity: "You have been very kind to Norry, and we are grateful. He is -a strange, poetic lad who needs the kind of understanding friendship you -have given him. We should have been deeply disappointed if you hadn't -been able to visit us." - -The expressions of gratitude embarrassed Hugh, but they made him feel -sure of his welcome; and once he was sure of that he began to enjoy -himself as he never had before. Before the month was out, he had made -many visits to New York and was able to talk about both the Ritz and -Macdougal Alley with elaborate casualness when he returned to college. -He and Norry went swimming nearly every day and spent hours sailing on -the Sound. - -Norry introduced him to the many girls who had summer homes near the -Parker cottage. They were a new type to him, boarding-school products, -sure of themselves, "finished" with a high polish that glittered -effectively, daringly frank both in their speech and their actions, -beautiful dancers, good swimmers, full of "dirt," as they called gossip, -and as offhand with men as they were with each other. Within a week Hugh -got over his prejudice against women's smoking. Nearly every woman he -met, including Mrs. Parker, smoked, and every girl carried her -cigarette-case. - -Most of the girls treated Norry as if he were a very nice small boy, but -they adopted a different attitude toward Hugh. They flirted with him, -perfected his "petting" technique, occasionally treated him to a drink, -and made no pretense of hiding his attraction for them. - -At first Hugh was startled and a little repelled, but he soon grew to -like the frankness, the petting, and the liquor; and he was having a -much too exciting time to pause often for criticism of himself or -anybody else. It was during the last week of his visit that he fell in -love. - -He and Norry were standing near the float watching a number of swimmers. -Suddenly Hugh was attracted by a girl he had never seen before. She wore -a red one-piece bathing-suit that revealed every curve of her slender, -boyish figure. She noticed Norry and threw up her arm in greeting. - -"Who is she?" Hugh demanded eagerly. - -"Cynthia Day. She's just back from visiting friends in Maine. She's an -awfully good swimmer. Watch her." The girl poised for an instant on the -edge of the float and then dived gracefully into the water, striking out -with a powerful overhand stroke for another float a quarter of a mile -out in the Sound. The boys watched her red cap as she rounded the float -and started back, swimming easily and expertly. When she reached the -beach, she ran out of the water, rubbed her hands over her face, and -then strolled over to Norry. - -Her hair was concealed by a red bathing-cap, but Hugh guessed that it -was brown; at any rate, her eyes were brown and very large. She had an -impudent little nose and full red lips. - -"'Lo, Norry," she said, holding out her hand. "How's the infant?" - -"Oh, I'm fine. This is my friend Hugh Carver." - -"I've heard about you," she said as they shook hands. "I only got back -last night, but everybody seems to be digging dirt about Norry's friend. -Three of my friends are enemies on account of you, and one of 'em says -she's going in swimming some day and forget to come back if you don't -give her a little more time." - -Hugh blushed, but he had learned a few things in the past weeks. - -"I wish they would tell me about it," he said with a fair assumption of -ease. "Why didn't you come back sooner?" He was pleased with that -speech. He wouldn't have dared it a month before. - -The brown eyes smiled at him. "Because I didn't know you were here. You -haven't got a cigarette about you, have you? Norry's useless when it -comes to smokes." - -Hugh did have a package of cigarettes. She took one, put it in her -mouth, and waited for Hugh to light it for her. When he did, she gazed -curiously over the flame at him. She puffed the cigarette for a moment -and then said, "You look like a good egg. Let's talk." She threw herself -down on the sand, and the boys sat down beside her. - -From that moment Hugh was lost. For the remaining days of the visit he -spent every possible moment with Cynthia, fascinated by her chatter, -thrilled by the touch of her hand. She made no objection when he offered -shyly to kiss her; she quietly put her arms around his neck and turned -her face up to his--and her kisses set him aflame. - -For once, he did not want to return to college, and when he arrived in -Haydensville he felt none of his usual enthusiasm. The initiation of the -freshmen amused him only slightly, and the football games did not seem -so important as they had the two previous years. A letter from Cynthia -was the most important thing in the world, and she wrote good letters, -chatty, gay, and affectionate. - -Custom made it necessary for him to room in the fraternity house. It was -an unwritten law of Nu Delta that all members live in the house their -last two years, and Hugh hardly dared to contest the law. There were -four men in the chapter whom he thoroughly liked and with whom he would -have been glad to room, but they all had made their arrangements by the -time he spoke to them; so he was forced to accept Paul Vinton's -invitation to room with him. - -Vinton was a cheerful youth with too much money and not enough sense. He -wanted desperately to be thought a good fellow, a "regular guy," and he -was willing to buy popularity if necessary by standing treat to any one -every chance he got. He was known all over the campus as a "prize -sucker." - -He bored Hugh excessively by his confidences and almost offensive -generosity. He always had a supply of Scotch whisky on hand, and he -offered it to him so constantly that Hugh drank too much because it was -easier and pleasanter to drink than to refuse. - -Tucker had graduated, and the new president, Leonard Gates, was an -altogether different sort of man. There had been a fight in the -fraternity over his election. The "regular guys" opposed him and offered -one of their own number as a candidate. Gates, however, was prominent in -campus activities and had his own following in the house; as a result, -he was elected by a slight margin. - -He won Hugh's loyalty at the first fraternity meeting after he took the -chair. "Some things are going to be changed in this house," he said -sternly, "or I will bring influence to bear that will change them." -Every one knew that he referred to the national president of the -fraternity. "There will be no more drunken brawls in this house such as -we had at the last house dance. Any one who brings a cheap woman into -this house at a dance will hear from it. Both my fiancee and my sister -were at the last dance. I do not intend that they shall be insulted -again. This is not a bawdy-house, and I want some of you to remember -that." - -He tried very hard to pass a rule, such as many of the fraternities had, -that no one could bring liquor into the house and that there should be -no gambling. He failed, however. The brothers took his scolding about -the dance because most of them were heartily ashamed of that occasion; -but they announced that they did not intend to have the chapter turned -into the S.C.A., which was the Sanford Christian Association. It would -have been well for Hugh if the law had been passed. Vinton's insistent -generosity was rapidly turning him into a steady drinker. He did not get -drunk, but he was taking down more high-balls than were good for him. - -Outside of his drinking, however, he was leading a virtuous and, on the -whole, an industrious life. He was too much in love with Cynthia Day to -let his mind dwell on other women, and he had become sufficiently -interested in his studies to like them for their own sake. - -A change had come over the campus. It was inexplicable but highly -significant. There had been evidences of it the year before, but now it -became so evident that even some of the members of the faculty were -aware of it. Intolerance seemed to be dying, and the word "wet" was -heard less often. The undergraduates were forsaking their old gods. The -wave of materialism was swept back by an in-rushing tide of idealism. -Students suddenly ceased to concentrate in economics and filled the -English and philosophy classes to overflowing. - -No one was able really to explain the causes for the change, but it was -there and welcome. The "Sanford Literary Magazine," which had been -slowly perishing for several years, became almost as popular as the "Cap -and Bells," the comic magazine, which coined money by publishing risque -jokes and pictures of slightly dressed women. A poetry magazine daringly -made its appearance on the campus and, to the surprise of its editors, -was received so cordially that they were able to pay the printer's bill. - -It became the fashion to read. Instructors in English were continually -being asked what the best new books were or if such and such a book was -all that it was "cracked up to be." If the instructor hadn't read the -book, he was treated to a look of contempt that sent him hastening to -the library. - -Of course, not all of the undergraduates took to reading and thinking; -the millennium had not arrived, but the intelligent majority began to -read and discuss books openly, and the intelligent majority ruled the -campus. - -Hugh was one of the most enthusiastic of the readers. He was taking a -course in nineteenth-century poetry with Blake, the head of the English -department. His other instructors either bored him or left him cold, but -Blake turned each class hour into a thrilling experience. He was a -handsome man with gray hair, dark eyes, and a magnificent voice. He -taught poetry almost entirely by reading it, only occasionally -interpolating an explanatory remark, and he read beautifully. His -reading was dramatic, almost tricky; but it made the poems live for his -students, and they reveled in his classes. - -Hugh's junior year was made almost beautiful by that poetry course and -by his adoration for Cynthia. He was writing verses constantly--and he -found "Cynthia" an exceedingly troublesome word; it seemed as if nothing -would rime with it. At times he thought of taking to free verse, but the -results of his efforts did not satisfy him. He always had the feeling -that he had merely chopped up some rather bad prose; and he was -invariably right. Cynthia wrote him that she loved the poems he sent -her because they were so passionate. He blushed when he read her praise. -It disturbed him. He wished that she had used a different word. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -For the first term Hugh slid comfortably down a well oiled groove of -routine. He went to the movies regularly, wrote as regularly to Cynthia -and thought about her even more, read enormous quantities of poetry, -"bulled" with his friends, attended all the athletic contests, played -cards occasionally, and received his daily liquor from Vinton. He no -longer protested when Vinton offered him a drink; he accepted it as a -matter of course, and he had almost completely forgotten that "smoking -wasn't good for a runner." He had just about decided that he wasn't a -runner, anyway. - -One evening in early spring he met George Winsor as he was crossing the -campus. - -"Hello, George. Where are you going?" - -"Over to Ted Alien's room. Big poker party to-night. Don't you want to -sit in?" - -"You told me last week that you had sworn off poker. How come you're -playing again so soon?" Hugh strolled lazily along with Winsor. - -"Not poker, Hugh--craps. I've sworn off craps for good, and maybe I'll -swear off poker after to-night. I'm nearly a hundred berries to the good -right now, and I can afford to play if I want to." - -"I'm a little ahead myself," said Hugh. "I don't play very often, -though, except in the house when the fellows insist. I can't shoot craps -at all, and I get tired of cards after a couple of hours." - -"I'm a damn fool to play," Winsor asserted positively, "a plain damn -fool, I oughtn't to waste my time at it, but I'm a regular fiend for the -game. I get a great kick out of it. How's to sit in with us? There's -only going to be half a dozen fellows. Two-bit limit." - -"Yeah, it'll start with a two-bit limit, but after an hour deuces'll be -wild all over the place and the sky will be the limit. I've sat in those -games before." - -Winsor laughed. "Guess you're right, but what's the odds? Better shoot a -few hands." - -"Well, all-right, but I can't stay later than eleven. I've got a quiz in -eccy to-morrow, and I've got to bone up on it some time to-night." - -"I've got that quiz, too. I'll leave with you at eleven." - -Winsor and Hugh entered the dormitory and climbed the stairs. Allen's -door was open, and several undergraduates were lolling around the room, -smoking and chatting. They welcomed the new-comers with shouts of "Hi, -Hugh," and "Hi, George." - -Allen had a large round table in the center of his study, and the boys -soon had it cleared for action. Allen tossed the cards upon the table, -produced several ash-trays, and then carefully locked the door. - -"Keep an ear open for Mac," he admonished his friends; "He's warned me -twice now," "Mac" was the night-watchman, and he had a way of dropping -in unexpectedly on gambling parties. "Here are the chips. You count 'em -out, George. Two-bit limit." - -The boys drew up chairs to the table, lighted cigarettes or pipes, and -began the game. Hugh had been right; the "two-bit limit" was soon -lifted, and Allen urged his guests to go as far as they liked. - -There were ugly rumors about Allen around the campus. He was good -looking, belonged to a fraternity in high standing, wore excellent -clothes, and did fairly well in his studies; but the rumors persisted. -There were students who insisted that he hadn't the conscience of a -snake, and a good many of them hinted that no honest man ever had such -consistently good luck at cards and dice. - -The other boys soon got heated and talkative, but Allen said little -besides announcing his bids. His blue eyes remained coldly -expressionless whether he won or lost the hand; his crisp, curly brown -hair remained neatly combed and untouched by a nervous hand; his lips -parted occasionally in a quiet smile: he was the perfect gambler, never -excited, always in absolute control of himself. - -Hugh marveled at the control as the evening wore on. He was excited, -and, try as he would, he could not keep his excitement from showing. -Luck, however, was with him; by ten o'clock he was seventy-five dollars -ahead, and most of it was Allen's money. - -Hugh passed by three hands in succession, unwilling to take any chances. -He had decided to "play close," never betting unless he held something -worth putting his money on. - -Allen dealt the fourth hand. "Ante up," he said quietly. The five other -men followed his lead in tossing chips into the center of the table. He -looked at his hand. "Two blue ones if you want to stay in." Winsor and -two of the men threw down their cards, but Hugh and a lad named Mandel -each shoved two blue chips into the pot. - -Hugh had three queens and an ace. "One card," he said to Allen. Allen -tossed him the card, and Hugh's heart leaped when he saw that it was an -ace. - -"Two cards, Ted," Mandel requested, nervously crushing his cigarette in -an ash-tray. He picked up the cards one at a time, lifting each slowly -by one corner, and peeking at it as if he were afraid that a sudden full -view would blast him to eternity. His face did not change expression as -he added the cards to the three that he held in his hand. - -"I'm sitting pretty," Allen remarked casually, picking up the five -cards that he had laid down before he dealt. - -The betting began, Hugh nervous, openly excited, Mandel stonily calm, -Allen completely at ease. At first the bets were for a dollar, but they -gradually rose to five. Mandel threw down his cards. - -"Fight it out," he said morosely. "I've thrown away twenty-five bucks, -and I'll be damned if I'm going to throw away any more to see your -four-flushes." - -Allen lifted a pile of chips and let them fall lightly, clicking a rapid -staccato. "It'll cost you ten dollars to see my hand, Hugh," he said -quietly. - -"It'll cost you twenty if you want to see mine," Hugh responded, tossing -the equivalent to thirty dollars into the pot. He watched Allen eagerly, -but Allen's face remained quite impassive as he raised Hugh another ten. - -The four boys who weren't playing leaned forward, pipes or cigarettes in -their mouths, their stomachs pressed against the table, their eyes -narrowed and excited. The air was a stench of stale smoke; the silence -between bets was electric. - -The betting continued, Hugh sure that Allen was bluffing, but Allen -never failed to raise him ten dollars on every bet. Finally Hugh had a -hundred dollars in the pot and dared not risk more on his hand. - -"I think you're bluffing, goddamn it," he said, his voice shrill and -nervous. "I'll call you. Show your stinkin' hand." - -"Oh, not so stinkin'," Allen replied lightly. "I've got four of a kind, -all of 'em kings. Let's see your three deuces." - -He tossed down his hand, and Hugh slumped in his chair at the sight of -the four kings. He shoved the pile of chips toward Allen. "Take the pot, -damn you. Of all the bastard luck. Look!" He slapped down his cards -angrily. "A full house, queens up. Christ!" He burst into a flood of -obscenity, the other boys listening sympathetically, all except Allen -who was carefully stacking the chips. - -In a few minutes Hugh's anger died. He remembered that he was only about -twenty-five dollars behind and that he had an hour in which to recover -them. His face became set and hard; his hands lost their jerky -eagerness. He played carefully, never daring to enter a big pot, never -betting for more than his hands were worth. - -As the bets grew larger, the room grew quieter. Every one was smoking -constantly; the air was heavy with smoke, and the stench grew more and -more foul. Outside of a soft, "I raise you twenty," or, even, "Fifty -bucks if you want to see my hand," a muttered oath or a request to buy -chips, there was hardly a word said. The excitement was so intense that -it hurt; the expletives smelled of the docks. - -At times there was more than five hundred dollars in a pot, and five -times out of seven when the pot was big, Allen won it. Win or lose, he -continued cool and calm, at times smoking a pipe, other times puffing -nonchalantly at a cigarette. - -The acrid smoke cut Hugh's eyes; they smarted and pained, but he -continued to light cigarette after cigarette, drawing the smoke deep -into his lungs, hardly aware of the fact that they hurt. - -He won and lost, won and lost, but gradually he won back the twenty-five -dollars and a little more. The college clock struck eleven. He knew that -he ought to go, but he wondered if he could quit with honor when he was -ahead. - -"I ought to go," he said hesitatingly. "I told George when I said that -I'd sit in that I'd have to leave at eleven. I've got an eccy quiz -to-morrow that I've got to study for." - -"Oh, don't leave now," one of the men said excitedly. "Why, hell, man, -the game's just getting warm." - -"I know," Hugh agreed, "and I hate like hell to quit, but I've really -got to beat it. Besides, the stakes are too big for me. I can't afford a -game like this." - -"You can afford it as well as I can," Mandel said irritably. "I'm over -two hundred berries in the hole right now, and you can goddamn well bet -that I'm not going to leave until I get them back." - -"Well, I'm a hundred and fifty to the bad," Winsor announced miserably, -"but I've got to go. If I don't hit that eccy, I'm going to be out of -luck." He shoved back his chair. "I hate like hell to leave; but I -promised Hugh that I'd leave with him at eleven, and I've got to do it." - -Allen had been quite indifferent when Hugh said that he was leaving. -Hugh was obviously small money, and Allen had no time to waste on -chicken-feed, but Winsor was a different matter. - -"You don't want to go, George, when you're in the hole. Better stick -around. Maybe you'll win it back. Your luck can't be bad all night." - -"You're right," said Winsor, stretching mightily. "It can't be bad all -night, but I can't hang around all night to watch it change. You're -welcome to the hundred and fifty, Ted, but some night soon I'm coming -over and take it away from you." - -Allen laughed. "Any time you say, George." - -Hugh and Winsor settled their accounts, then stood up, aching and weary, -their muscles cramped from three hours of sitting and nervous tension. -They said brief good nights, unlocked the door--they heard Allen lock it -behind them--and left their disgruntled friends, glad to be out of the -noisome odor of the room. - -"God, what luck!" Winsor exclaimed as they started down the hall. "I'm -off Allen for good. That boy wins big pots too regularly and always -loses the little ones. I bet he's a cold-deck artist or something." - -"He's something all right," Hugh agreed. "Cripes, I feel dirty and -stinko. I feel as if I'd been in a den." - -"You have been. Say, what's that?" They had almost traversed the length -of the long hall when Winsor stopped suddenly, taking Hugh by the arm. A -door was open, and they could hear somebody reading. - -"What's what?" Hugh asked, a little startled by the suddenness of -Winsor's question. - -"Listen. That poem, I've heard it somewhere before. What is it?" - -Hugh listened a moment and then said: "Oh, that's the poem Prof Blake -read us the other day--you know, 'marpessa.' It's about the shepherd, -_Apollo_, and _Marpessa_. It's great stuff. Listen." - -They remained standing in the deserted hall, the voice coming clearly to -them through the open doorway. "It's Freddy Fowler," Winsor whispered. -"He can sure read." - -The reading stopped, and they heard Fowler say to some one, presumably -his room-mate: "This is the part that I like best. Get it," Then he read -_Idas's_ plea to _Marpessa_: - - - "'After such argument what can I plead? - Or what pale promise make? Yet since it is - In women to pity rather than to aspire, - A little I will speak. I love thee then - Not only for thy body packed with sweet - Of all this world, that cup of brimming June, - That jar of violet wine set in the air, - That palest rose sweet in the night of life; - Nor for that stirring bosom, all besieged - By drowsing lovers, or thy perilous hair; - Nor for that face that might indeed provoke - Invasion of old cities; no, nor all - Thy freshness stealing on me like strange sleep.'" - - -Winsor's hand tightened on Hugh's arm, and the two boys stood almost -rigid listening to the young voice, which was trembling with emotion, -rich with passion: - - - "'Not only for this do I love thee, but - Because Infinity upon thee broods; - And thou are full of whispers and of shadows. - Thou meanest what the sea has striven to say - So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell; - Thou art what all the winds have uttered not, - What the still night suggesteth to the heart. - Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth, - Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea; - Thy face remembered is from other worlds, - It has been died for, though I know not when, - It has been sung of, though I know not where.'" - - -"God," Winsor whispered, "that's beautiful." - -"Hush. This is the best part." - - - "'It has the strangeness of the luring West, - And of sad sea-horizons; beside thee - I am aware of other times and lands, - Of birth far back, of lives in many stars. - O beauty lone and like a candle clear - In this dark country of the world! Thou art - My woe, my early light, my music dying.'" - - -Hugh and Winsor remained silent while the young voice went on reading -_Maressa's_ reply, her gentle refusal of the god and her proud -acceptance, of the mortal. Finally they heard the last words: - - - "When she had spoken, Idas with one cry - Held her, and there was silence; while the god - In anger disappeared. Then slowly they, - He looking downward, and she gazing up, - Into the evening green wandered away." - - -When the voice paused, the poem done, the two boys walked slowly down -the hall, down the steps, and out into the cool night air. Neither said -a Word until they were half-way across the campus. Then Winsor spoke -softly: - -"God! Wasn't that beautiful?" - -"Yes--beautiful." Hugh's voice was hardly more than a whisper. -"Beautiful.... It--it--oh, it makes me--kinda ashamed." - -"Me, too. Poker when we can have that! We're awful fools, Hugh." - -"Yes--awful fools." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -Prom came early in May, and Hugh looked forward to it joyously, partly -because it would be his first Prom and partly because Cynthia was -coming. Cynthia! He thought of her constantly, dreamed of her, wrote -poems about her and to her. At times his longing for her swelled into an -ecstasy of desire that racked and tore him. He was lost in love, his -moods sweeping him from lyric happiness to black despair. He wrote to -her several times a week, and between letters he took long walks -composing dithyrambic epistles that fortunately were never written. - -When he received her letter saying that she would come to Prom, he -yelled like a lunatic, pounded the astonished Vinton on the back, and -raced down-stairs to the living-room. - -"She's coming!" he shouted. - -There were several men in the room, and they all turned and looked at -him, some of them grinning broadly. - -"What th' hell, Hugh?" Leonard Gates asked amiably. "Who's coming? Who's -she?" - -Hugh blushed and shuffled his feet. He knew that he had laid himself -open to a "royal razzing," but he proceeded to bluff himself out of the -dilemma. - -"She? Oh, yes, she. Well, she is she. Altogether divine, Len." He was -trying hard to be casual and flippant, but his eyes were dancing and his -lips trembled with smiles. - -Gates grinned at him. "A poor bluff, old man--a darn poor bluff. You're -in love, _pauvre enfant_, and I'm afraid that you're in a very bad way. -Come on, tell us the lady's name, her pedigree, and list of charms." - -Hugh grinned back at Gates. "Chase yourself," he said gaily. "I won't -tell you a blamed thing about her." - -"You'd better," said Jim Saunders from the depths of a leather chair. -"Is she the jane whose picture adorns your desk?" - -"Yeah," Hugh admitted. "How do you like her?" - -"Very fair, very fair." Saunders was magnificently lofty. "I've seen -better, of course, but I've seen worse, too. Not bad--um, not very bad." - -The "razzing" had started, and Hugh lost his nerve. - -"Jim, you can go to hell," he said definitely, prepared to rush -up-stairs before Saunders could reply. "You don't know a queen when you -see one. Why, Cynthia--" - -"Cynthia!" four of the boys shouted. "So her name's Cynthia. That's--" - -But Hugh was half-way up-stairs, embarrassed and delighted. - -The girls arrived on Thursday, the train which brought most of them -reaching Haydensville early in the afternoon. Hugh paced up and down the -station, trying to keep up a pretense of a conversation with two or -three others. He gave the wrong reply twice and then decided to say -nothing more. He listened with his whole body for the first whistle of -the train, and so great was the chatter of the hundreds of waiting -youths that he never heard it. Suddenly the engine rounded a curve, and -a minute later the train stopped before the station. Immediately the -boys began to mill around the platform like cattle about to stampede, -standing on their toes to look over the heads of their comrades, -shoving, shouting, dancing in their impatience. - -Girls began to descend the steps of the cars. The stampede broke. A -youth would see "his girl" and start through the crowd for her. Dozens -spotted their girls at the same time and tried to run through the crowd. -They bumped into one another, laughed joyously, bumped into somebody -else, and finally reached the girl. - -When Hugh eventually saw Cynthia standing on a car platform near him, he -shouted to her and held his hand high in greeting. She saw him and waved -back, at the same time starting down the steps. - -She had a little scarlet hat pulled down over her curly brown hair, and -she wore a simple blue traveling-suit that set off her slender figure -perfectly. Her eyes seemed bigger and browner than ever, her nose more -impudently tilted, her mouth more supremely irresistible. Her cheeks -were daintily rouged, her eyebrows plucked into a thin arch. She was New -York from her small pumps to the expensively simple scarlet hat. - -Hugh dashed several people aside and grabbed her hand, squeezing it -unmercifully. - -"Oh, gee, Cynthia, I'm glad to see you. I thought the darn train was -never going to get here. How are you? Gee, you're looking great, -wonderful. Where's your suit-case?" He fairly stuttered in his -excitement, his words toppling over each other. - -"I'm full of pep. You look wonderful. There's my suit-case, the big -black one. Give the porter two bits or something. I haven't any change." -Hugh tipped the porter, picked up the suit-case with one hand, and took -Cynthia by the arm with the other, carefully piloting her through the -noisy, surging crowd of boys and girls, all of them talking at top speed -and in high, excited voices. - -Once Hugh and Cynthia were off the platform they could talk without -shouting. - -"We've got to walk up the hill," Hugh explained miserably. "I couldn't -get a car for love nor money. I'm awfully sorry." - -Cynthia did a dance-step and petted his arm happily. "What do I care? -I'm so--so damn glad to see you, Hugh. You look nicer'n ever--just as -clean and washed and sweet. Ooooh, look at him blush! Stop it or I'll -have to kiss you right here. Stop it, I say." - -But Hugh went right on blushing. "Go ahead," he said bravely. "I wish -you would." - -Cynthia laughed. "Like fun you do. You'd die of embarrassment. But your -mouth is an awful temptation. You have the sweetest mouth, Hugh. It's so -damn kissable." - -She continued to banter him until they reached the fraternity house. -"Where do I live?" she demanded. "In your room, I hope." - -"Yep. I'm staying down in Keller Hall with Norry Parker. His room-mate's -sick in the hospital; so he's got room for me. Norry's going to see you -later." - -"Right-o. What do we do when I get six pounds of dirt washed off and -some powder on my nose?" - -"Well, we're having a tea-dance here at the house at four-thirty; but -we've got an hour till then, and I thought we'd take a walk. I want to -show you the college." - -After Cynthia had repaired the damages of travel and had been introduced -to Hugh's fraternity brothers and their girls, she and Hugh departed -for a tour of the campus. The lawns were so green that the grass seemed -to be bursting with color; the elms waved tiny new leaves in a faint -breeze; the walls of the buildings were speckled with green patches of -ivy. Cynthia was properly awed by the chapel and enthusiastic over the -other buildings. She assured Hugh that Sanford men looked awfully smooth -in their knickers and white flannels; in fact, she said the whole -college seemed jake to her. - -They wandered past the lake and into the woods as if by common consent. -Once they were out of sight of passers-by, Hugh paused and turned to -Cynthia. Without a word she stepped into his arms and lifted her face to -his, Hugh's heart seemed to stop; he was so hungry for that kiss, he had -waited so long for it. - -When he finally took his lips from hers, Cynthia whispered softly, -"You're such a good egg, Hugh honey, such a damn good egg." - -Hugh could say nothing; he just held her close, his mind swimming -dizzily, his whole being atingle. For a long time he held her, kissing -her, now tenderly, now almost brutally, lost in a thrill of passion. - -Finally she whispered faintly: "No more, Hugh. Not now, dear." - -Hugh released her reluctantly. "I love you so damned hard, Cynthia," he -said huskily. "I--I can't keep my hands off of you." - -"I know," she replied. "But we've got to go back. Wait a minute, -though. I must look like the devil." She straightened her hat, powdered -her nose, and then tucked her arm in his. - -After the tea-dance and dinner, Hugh left her to dress for the Dramatic -Society musical comedy that was to be performed that evening. He -returned to Norry Parker's room and prepared to put on his Tuxedo. - -"You look as if somebody had left you a million dollars," Norry said to -Hugh. "I don't think I ever saw anybody look so happy. You--you shine." - -Hugh laughed. "I am happy, Norry, happy as hell. I'm so happy I ache. -Oh, God, Cynthia's wonderful. I'm crazy about her, Norry--plumb crazy." - -Norry had known Cynthia for years, and despite his ingenuousness, he had -noticed some of her characteristics. - -"I never expected you to fall in love with Cynthia, Hugh," he said in -his gentle way. "I'm awfully surprised." - -Hugh was humming a strain from "Say it with Music" while he undressed. -He pulled off his trousers and then turned to Norry, who was sitting on -the bed. "What did you say? You said something, didn't you?" - -Norry smiled. For some quite inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt -older than Hugh. - -"Yes, I said something. I said that I never expected you to fall in love -with Cynthia." - -Hugh paused in taking off his socks. "Why not?" he demanded. "She's -wonderful." - -"You're so different." - -"How different? We understand each other perfectly. Of course, we only -saw each other for a week when I was down at your place, but we -understood each other from the first. I was crazy about her as soon as I -saw her." - -Norry was troubled. "I don't think I can explain exactly," he said -slowly. "Cynthia runs with a fast crowd, and she smokes and drinks--and -you're--well, you're idealistic." - -Hugh pulled off his underclothes and laughed as he stuck his feet into -slippers and drew on a bath-robe. "Of course, she does. All the girls do -now. She's just as idealistic as I am." - -He wrapped the bath-robe around him and departed for the showers, -singing gaily: - - - "Say it with music, - Beautiful music; - Somehow they'd rather be kissed - To the strains of Chopin or Liszt. - A melody mellow played on a cello - Helps Mister Cupid along-- - So say it with a beautiful song." - - -Shortly he returned, still singing the same song, his voice full and -happy. He continued to sing as he dressed, paying no attention to Norry, -completely lost in his own Elysian thoughts. - -To Hugh and Cynthia the musical comedy was a complete success, although -the music, written by an undergraduate, was strangely reminiscent of -several recent Broadway song successes, and the plot of the comedy got -lost after the first ten minutes and was never recovered until the last -two. It was amusing to watch men try to act like women, and two of the -"ladies" of the chorus were patently drunk. _Cleopatra_, the leading -lady, was a wrestler and looked it, his biceps swelling magnificently -every time he raised his arms to embrace the comic _Antony_. It was -glorious nonsense badly enough done to be really funny. Hugh and -Cynthia, along with the rest of the audience, laughed joyously--and held -hands. - -After the play was over, they returned to the Nu Delta house and danced -until two in the morning. During one dance Cynthia whispered to him, -"Hugh, get me a drink or I'll pass out." - -Hugh, forgetting his indignation of the year before, went in search of -Vinton and deprived that young man of a pint of gin without a scruple. -He and Cynthia then sneaked behind the house and did away with the -liquor. Other couples were drinking, all of them surreptitiously, -Leonard Gates having laid down the law in no uncertain manner, and all -of the brothers were a little afraid of Gates. - -Cynthia slept until noon the next day, and Hugh went to his classes. In -the afternoon they attended a baseball game, and then returned to the -fraternity house for another tea-dance. The Prom was to be that night. -Hugh assured Cynthia that it was going to be a "wet party," and that -Vinton had sold him a good supply of Scotch. - -The campus was rife with stories: this was the wettest Prom on record, -the girls were drinking as much as the men, some of the fraternities had -made the sky the limit, the dormitories were being invaded by couples in -the small hours of the night, and so on. Hugh heard numerous stories but -paid no attention to them. He was supremely happy, and that was all that -mattered. True, several men had advised him to bring plenty of liquor -along to the Prom if he wanted to have a good time, and he was careful -to act on their advice, especially as Cynthia had assured him that she -would dance until doomsday if he kept her "well oiled with hooch." - -The gymnasium was gaily decorated for the Prom, the walls hidden with -greenery, the rafters twined with the college colors and almost lost -behind hundreds of small Japanese lanterns. The fraternity booths were -made of fir boughs, and the orchestra platform in the middle of the -floor looked like a small forest of saplings. - -The girls were beautiful in the soft glow of the lanterns, their arms -and shoulders smooth and white; the men were trim and neat in their -Tuxedos, the dark suits emphasizing the brilliant colors of the girls' -gowns. - -It was soon apparent that some of the couples had got at least half -"oiled" before the dance began, and before an hour had passed many more -couples gave evidence of imbibing more freely than wisely. Occasionally -a hysterical laugh burst shrilly above the pounding of the drums and the -moaning of the saxophones. A couple would stagger awkwardly against -another couple and then continue unevenly on an uncertain way. - -The stags seemed to be the worst offenders. Many of them were joyously -drunk, dashing dizzily across the floor to find a partner, and once -having taken her from a friend, dragging her about, happily unconscious -of anything but the girl and the insistent rhythm of the music. - -The musicians played as if in a frenzy, the drums pound-pounding a -terrible tom-tom, the saxophones moaning and wailing, the violins -singing sensuously, shrilly as if in pain, an exquisite searing pain. - -Boom, boom, boom, boom. "Stumbling all around, stumbling all around, -stumbling all around so funny--" Close-packed the couples moved slowly -about the gymnasium, body pressed tight to body, swaying in place--boom, -boom, boom, boom--"Stumbling here and there, stumbling everywhere--" -Six dowagers, the chaperons, sat in a corner, gossiped, and idly watched -the young couples.... A man suddenly released his girl and raced -clumsily for the door, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other -stretched uncertainly in front of him. - -Always the drums beating their terrible tom-tom, their primitive, -blood-maddening tom-tom.... Boom, boom, boom, boom--"I like it just a -little bit, just a little bit, quite a little bit." The music ceased, -and some of the couples disentangled themselves; others waited in frank -embrace for the orchestra to begin the encore.... A boy slumped in a -chair, his head in his hands. His partner sought two friends. They -helped the boy out of the gymnasium. - -The orchestra leader lifted his bow. The stags waited in a broken line, -looking for certain girls. The music began, turning a song with comic -words into something weirdly sensuous--strange syncopations, uneven, -startling drum-beats--a mad tom-tom. The couples pressed close together -again, swaying, barely moving in place--boom, boom, boom, -boom--"Second-hand hats, second-hand clothes--That's why they call me -second-hand Rose...." The saxophones sang the melody with passionate -despair; the violins played tricks with a broken heart; the clarinets -rose shrill in pain; the drums beat on--boom, boom, boom, boom.... A -boy and girl sought a dark corner. He shielded her with his body while -she took a drink from a flask. Then he turned his face to the corner and -drank. A moment later they were back on the floor, holding each other -tight, drunkenly swaying... Finally the last strains, a wall of -agony--"Ev-'ry one knows that I'm just Sec-ond-hand Rose--from Sec-ond -Av-en-ue." - -The couples moved slowly off the floor, the pounding of the drums still -in their ears and in their blood; some of them sought the fraternity -booths; some of the girls retired to their dressing-room, perhaps to -have another drink; many of the men went outside for a smoke and to tip -a flask upward. Through the noise, the sex-madness, the half-drunken -dancers, moved men and women quite sober, the men vainly trying to -shield the women from contact with any one who was drunk. There was an -angry light in those men's eyes, but most of them said nothing, merely -kept close to their partners, ready to defend them from any too -assertive friend. - -Again the music, again the tom-tom of the drums. On and on for hours. A -man "passed out cold" and had to be carried from the gymnasium. A girl -got a "laughing jag" and shrieked with idiotic laughter until her -partner managed to lead her protesting off the floor. On and on, the -constant rhythmic wailing of the fiddles, syncopated passion screaming -with lust, the drums, horribly primitive; drunken embraces.... "Oh, -those Wabash Blues--I know I got my dues--A lone-some soul am I--I feel -that I could die..." Blues, sobbing, despairing blues.... Orgiastic -music--beautiful, hideous! "Can-dle light that gleams--Haunts me in my -dreams..." The drums boom, boom, boom, booming--"I'll pack my walking -shoes, to lose--those Wa-bash Blues..." - -Hour after hour--on and on. Flushed faces, breaths hot with passion and -whisky.... Pretty girls, cool and sober, dancing with men who held them -with drunken lasciviousness; sober men hating the whisky breaths of the -girls.... On and on, the drunken carnival to maddening music--the -passion, the lust. - -Both Hugh and Cynthia were drinking, and by midnight both of them were -drunk, too drunk any longer to think clearly. As they danced, Hugh was -aware of nothing but Cynthia's body, her firm young body close to his. -His blood beat with the pounding of the drums. He held her tighter and -tighter--the gymnasium, the other couples, a swaying mist before his -eyes. - -When the dance ended, Cynthia whispered huskily, "Ta-take me somewhere, -Hugh." - -Strangely enough, he got the significance of her words at once. His -blood raced, and he staggered so crazily that Cynthia had to hold him by -the arm. - -"Sure--sure; I'll--I'll ta-take you some-somewhere. I--I, too, -Cyntheea." - -They walked unevenly out of the gymnasium, down the steps, and through -the crowd of smokers standing outside. Hardly aware of what he was -doing, Hugh led Cynthia to Keller Hall, which was not more than fifty -yards distant. - -He took a flask out of his pocket. "Jush one more drink," he said -thickly and emptied the bottle. Then, holding Cynthia desperately by the -arm, he opened the door of Keller Hall and stumbled with her up the -stairs to Norry Parker's room. Fortunately the hallways were deserted, -and no one saw them. The door was unlocked, and Hugh, after searching -blindly for the switch, finally clicked on the lights and mechanically -closed the door behind him. - -He was very dizzy. He wanted another drink--and he wanted Cynthia. He -put his arms around her and pulled her drunkenly to him. The door of one -of the bedrooms opened, and Norry Parker stood watching them. He had -spent the evening at the home of a musical professor and had returned to -his room only a few minutes before. His face went white when he saw the -embracing couple. - -"Hugh!" he said sharply. - -Hugh and Cynthia, still clinging to each other, looked at him. Slowly -Cynthia took her arms from around Hugh's neck and forced herself from -his embrace. Norry disappeared into his room and came out a minute later -with his coat on; he had just begun to undress when he had heard a noise -in the study. - -"I'll see you home, Cynthia," he said quietly. He took her arm and led -her out of the room--and locked the door behind him. Hugh stared at them -blankly, swaying slightly, completely befuddled. Cynthia went with Norry -willingly enough, leaning heavily on his arm and occasionally sniffing. - -When he returned to his room, Hugh was sitting on the floor staring at a -photograph of Norry's mother. He had been staring at it for ten minutes, -holding it first at arm's length and then drawing it closer and closer -to him. No matter where he held it, he could not see what it was--and he -was determined to see it. - -Norry walked up to him and reached for the photograph. - -"Give me that," he said curtly. "Take your hands on my mother's -picture." - -"It's not," Hugh exclaimed angrily; "it's not. It's my musher, my own -mu-musher--my, my own dear musher. Oh, oh!" - -He slumped down in a heap and began to sob bitterly, muttering, "Musher, -musher, musher." - -Norry was angry. The whole scene was revolting to him. His best friend -was a disgusting sight, apparently not much better than a gibbering -idiot. And Hugh had shamefully abused his hospitality. Norry was no -longer gentle and boyish; he was bitterly disillusioned. - -"Get up," he said briefly. "Get up and go to bed." - -"Tha's my musher. You said it wasn't my--my musher." Hugh looked up, his -face wet with maudlin tears. - -Norry leaned over and snatched the picture from him. "Take your dirty -hands off of that," he snapped. "Get up and go to bed." - -"Tha's my musher." Hugh was gently persistent. - -"It's not your mother. You make me sick. Go to bed." Norry tugged at -Hugh's arm impotently; Hugh simply sat limp, a dead weight. - -Norry's gray eyes narrowed. He took a glass, filled it with cold water -in the bedroom, and then deliberately dashed the water into Hugh's face. - -Then he repeated the performance. - -Hugh shook his head and rubbed his hands wonderingly over his face. "I'm -no good," he said almost clearly. "I'm no good." - -"You certainly aren't. Come on; get up and go to bed." Again Norry -tugged at his arm, and this time Hugh, clinging clumsily to the edge of -the table by which he was sitting, staggered to his feet. - -"I'm a blot," he declared mournfully; "I'm no good, Norry. I'm an--an -excreeshence, an ex-cree-shence, tha's what I am." - -"Something of the sort," Norry agreed in disgust. "Here, let me take off -your coat." - -"Leave my coat alone." He pulled himself away from Norry. "I'm no good. -I'm an ex-cree-shence. I'm goin' t' commit suicide; tha's what I'm goin' -t' do. Nobody'll care 'cept my musher, and she wouldn't either if she -knew me. Oh, oh, I wish I didn't use a shafety-razor. I'll tell you what -to do, Norry." He clung pleadingly to Norry's arm and begged with -passionate intensity. "You go over to Harry King's room. He's got a -re-re--a pistol. You get it for me and I'll put it right here--" he -touched his temple awkwardly--"and I'll--I'll blow my damn brains out. -I'm a blot, Norry; I'm an ex-cree-shence." - -Norry shook him. "Shut up. You've got to go to bed. You're drunk." - -"I'm sick. I'm an ex-cree-shence." The room was whizzing rapidly around -Hugh, and he clung hysterically to Norry. Finally he permitted himself -to be led into the bedroom and undressed, still moaning that he was an -"ex-cree-shence." - -The bed pitched. He lay on his right side, clutching the covers in -terror. He turned over on his back. Still the bed swung up and down -sickeningly. Then he twisted over to his left side, and the bed -suddenly swung into rest, almost stable. In a few minutes he was sound -asleep. - -He cut chapel and his two classes the next morning, one at nine and the -other at ten o'clock; in fact, it was nearly eleven when he awoke. His -head was splitting with pain, his tongue was furry, and his mouth tasted -like bilge-water. He made wry faces, passed his thick tongue around his -dry mouth--oh, so damnably dry!--and pressed the palms of his hands to -his pounding temples. He craved a drink of cold water, but he was afraid -to get out of bed. He felt pathetically weak and dizzy. - -Norry walked into the room and stood quietly looking at him. - -"Get me a drink, Norry, please," Hugh begged. - -"I'm parched." He rolled over. "Ouch! God, how my head aches!" - -Norry brought him the drink, but nothing less than three glasses even -began to satisfy Hugh. Then, still saying nothing, Norry put a cold -compress on Hugh's hot forehead. - -"Thanks, Norry old man. That's awfully damn good of you." - -Norry walked out of the room, and Hugh quickly fell into a light sleep. -An hour later he woke up, quite unaware of the fact that Norry had -changed the cold compress three times. The nap had refreshed him. He -still felt weak and faint; but his head no longer throbbed, and his -throat was less dry. - -"Norry," he called feebly. - -"Yes?" Norry stood in the doorway. "Feeling better?" - -"Yes, some. Come sit down on the bed. I want to talk to you. But get me -another drink first, please. My mouth tastes like burnt rubber." - -Norry gave him the drink and then sat down on the edge of the bed, -silently waiting. - -"I'm awfully ashamed of myself, old man," Hugh began. "I--I don't know -what to say. I can't remember much what happened. I remember bringing -Cynthia up here and you coming in and then--well, I somehow can't -remember anything after that. What did you do?" - -"I took Cynthia home and then came back and put you to bed." Norry gazed -at the floor and spoke softly. - -"You took Cynthia home?" - -"Of course." - -Hugh stared at him in awe. "But if you'd been seen with her in the dorm, -you'd have been fired from college." - -"Nobody saw us. It's all right." - -Hugh wanted to cry. "Oh, Lord, Norry, you're white," he exclaimed. "The -whitest fellow that ever lived. You took that chance for me." - -"That's all right." Norry was painfully embarrassed. - -"And I'm such a rotter. You--you know what we came up here for?" - -"I can guess." Norry's glance still rested on the floor. He spoke hardly -above a whisper. - -"Nothing happened. I swear it, Norry. I meant to--but--but you -came--thank God! I was awfully soused. I guess you think I'm rotten, -Norry. I suppose I am. I don't know how I could treat you this way. Are -you awfully angry?" - -"I was last night," Norry replied honestly, "but I'm not this morning. -I'm just terribly disappointed. I understand, I guess; I'm human, -too--but I'm disappointed. I can't forget the way you looked." - -"Don't!" Hugh cried. "Please don't, Norry. I--I can't stand it if you -talk that way. I'm so damned ashamed. Please forgive me." - -Norry was very near to tears. "Of course, I forgive you," he whispered, -"but I hope you won't do it again." - -"I won't, Norry. I promise you. Oh, God, I'm no good. That's twice I've -been stopped by an accident. I'll go straight now, though; I promise -you." - -Norry stood up. "It's nearly noon," he said more naturally. "Cynthia -will be wondering where you are." - -"Cynthia! Oh, Norry, how can I face her?" - -"You've got to," said the young moralist firmly. - -"I suppose so," the sinner agreed, his voice miserably lugubrious. -"God!" - -After three cups of coffee, however, the task did not seem so -impossible. Hugh entered the Nu Delta house with a fairly jaunty air and -greeted the men and women easily enough. His heart skipped a beat when -he saw Cynthia standing in the far corner of the living-room. She was -wearing her scarlet hat and blue suit. - -She saved him the embarrassment of opening the conversation. "Come into -the library," she said softly. "I want to speak to you." - -Wondering and rather frightened, he followed her. - -"I'm going home this afternoon," she began. "I've got everything packed, -and I've told everybody that I don't feel very well." - -"You aren't sick?" he asked, really worried. - -"Of course not, but I had to say something. The train leaves in an hour -or two, and I want to have a talk with you before I go." - -"But hang it, Cynthia, think of what you're missing. There's a baseball -game with Raleigh this afternoon, a tea-dance in the Union after that, -the Musical Clubs concert this evening--I sing with the Glee club and -Norry's going to play a solo, and I'm in the Banjo Club, too--and we are -going to have a farewell dance at the house after the concert." Hugh -pleaded earnestly; but somehow down in his heart he wished that she -wouldn't stay. - -"I know, but I've got to go. Let's go somewhere out in the woods where -we can talk without being disturbed." - -Still protesting, he led her out of the house, across the campus, past -the lake, and into the woods. Finally they sat down on a smooth rock. - -"I'm awfully sorry to bust up your party, Hugh," Cynthia began slowly, -"but I've been doing some thinking, and I've just got to beat it." She -paused a moment and then looked him square in the eyes. "Do you love -me?" - -For an instant Hugh's eyes dropped, and then he looked up and lied like -a gentleman. "Yes," he said simply; "I love you, Cynthia." - -She smiled almost wearily and shook her head. "You _are_ a good egg, -Hugh. It was white of you to say that, but I know that you don't love -me. You did yesterday, but you don't now. Do you realize that you -haven't asked to kiss me to-day?" - -Hugh flushed and stammered: "I--I've got an awful hang-over, Cynthia. I -feel rotten." - -"Yes, I know, but that isn't why you didn't want to kiss me. I know all -about it. Listen, Hugh." She faced him bravely. "I've been running with -a fast crowd for three years, and I've learned a lot about fellows; and -most of 'em that I've known weren't your kind. How old are you?" - -"Twenty-one in a couple of months." - -"I'm twenty and lots wiser about some things than you are. I've been -crazy about you--I guess I am kinda yet--and I know that you thought you -were in love with me. I wanted you to have hold of me all the time. -That's all that mattered. It was--was your body, Hugh. You're sweet and -fine, and I respect you, but I'm not the kid for you to run around with. -I'm too fast. I woke up early this morning, and I've done a lot of -thinking since. You know what we came near doing last night? Well, -that's all we want each other for. We're not in love." - -A phrase from the bull sessions rushed into Hugh's mind. "You mean--sex -attraction?" he asked in some embarrassment. He felt weak and tired. He -seemed to be listening to Cynthia in a dream. Nothing was real--and -everything was a little sad. - -"Yes, that's it--and, oh, Hugh, somehow I don't want that with you. -We're not the same kind at all. I used to think that when I got your -letters. Sometimes I hardly understood them, but I'd close my eyes and -see you so strong and blond and clean, and I'd imagine you were holding -me tight--and--and then I was happy. I guess I did kinda love you, but -we've spoiled it." She wanted desperately to cry but bit her lip and -held back her tears. - -"I think I know what you mean, Cynthia," Hugh said softly. "I don't know -much about love and sex attraction and that sort of thing, but I know -that I was happier kissing you than I've ever been in my life. I--I wish -that last night hadn't happened. I hate myself." - -"You needn't. It was more my fault than yours. I'm a pretty bad egg, I -guess; and the booze and you holding me was too much. I hate myself, -too. I've spoiled the nicest thing that ever happened to me." She looked -up at him, her eyes bright with tears. "I _did_ love you, Hugh. I loved -you as much as I could love any one." - -Hugh put his arms around her and drew her to him. Then he bent his head -and kissed her gently. There was no passion in his embrace, but there -was infinite tenderness. He felt spiritually and physically weak, as if -all his emotional resources had been quite spent. - -"I think that I love you more than I ever did before," he whispered. - -If he had shown any passion, if there had been any warmth in his kiss, -Cynthia might have believed him, but she was aware only of his -gentleness. She pushed him back and drew out of his arms. - -"No," she said sharply; "you don't love me. You're just sorry for -me.... You're just kind." - -Hugh had read "Marpessa" many times, and a line from it came to make her -attitude clear: - - - "thou wouldst grow kind; - Most bitter to a woman that was loved." - - -"Oh, I don't know; I don't know," he said miserably. "Let's not call -everything off now, Cynthia. Let's wait a while." - -"No!" She stood up decisively. "No. I hate loose ends." She glanced at -her tiny wrist-watch. "If I'm going to make that train, I've got to -hurry. We've got barely half an hour. Come, Hugh. Be a sport." - -He stood up, his face white and weary, his blue eyes dull and sad. - -"Just as you say, Cynthia," he said slowly. "But I'm going to miss you -like hell." - -She did not reply but started silently for the path. He followed her, -and they walked back to the fraternity house without saying a word, both -busy with unhappy thoughts. - -When they reached the fraternity, she got her suit-case, handed it to -him, declined his offer of a taxi, and walked unhappily by his side down -the hill that they had climbed so gaily two days before. Hugh had just -time to get her ticket before the train started. - -She paused a moment at the car steps and held out her hand. "Good-by, -Hugh," she said softly, her lips trembling, her eyes full of tears. - -"Good-by, Cynthia," he whispered. And then, foolishly, "Thanks for -coming." - -She did not smile but drew her hand from his and mounted the steps. An -instant later she was inside the car and the train was moving. - -Numbed and miserable, Hugh slowly climbed the hill and wandered back to -Norry Parker's room. He was glad that Norry wasn't there. He paced up -and down the room a few minutes trying to think. Then he threw himself -despairingly on a couch, face down. He wanted to cry; he had never -wanted so much to cry--and he couldn't. There were no tears--and he had -lost something very precious. He thought it was love; it was only his -dreams. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -For several days Hugh was tortured by doubt and indecision: there were -times when he thought that he loved Cynthia, times when he was sure that -he didn't; when he had just about made up his mind that he hated her, he -found himself planning to follow her to New Rochelle; he tried to -persuade himself that his conduct was no more reprehensible than that of -his comrades, but shame invariably overwhelmed his arguments; there were -hours when he ached for Cynthia, and hours when he loathed her for -smashing something that had been beautiful. Most of all, he wanted -comfort, advice, but he knew no one to whom he was willing to give his -confidence. Somehow, he couldn't admit his drunkenness to any one whose -advice he valued. He called on Professor Henley twice, intending to make -a clean breast of his transgressions. Henley, he knew, would not lecture -him, but when he found himself facing him, he could not bring himself to -confession; he was afraid of losing Henley's respect. - -Finally, in desperation, he talked to Norry, not because he thought -Norry could help him but because he had to talk to somebody and Norry -already knew the worst. They went walking far out into the country, idly -discussing campus gossip or pausing to revel in the beauty of the night, -the clear, clean sky, the pale moon, the fireflies sparkling suddenly -over the meadows or even to the tree-tops. Weary from their long walk, -they sat down on a stump, and Hugh let the dam of his emotion break. - -"Norry," he began intensely, "I'm in hell--in hell. It's a week since -Prom, and I haven't had a line from Cynthia. I haven't dared write to -her." - -"Why not?" - -"She--she--oh, damn it!--she told me before she left that everything was -all off. That's why she left early. She said that we didn't love each -other, that all we felt was sex attraction. I don't know whether she's -right or not, but I miss her like the devil. I--I feel empty, sort of -hollow inside, as if everything had suddenly been poured out of me--and -there's nothing to take its place. I was full of Cynthia, you see, and -now there's no Cynthia. There's nothing left but--oh, God, Norry, I'm -ashamed of myself. I feel--dirty." The last word was hardly audible. - -Norry touched his arm. "I know, Hugh, and I'm awfully sorry. I think, -though, that Cynthia was right. I know her better than you do. She's an -awfully good kid but not your kind at all; I think I feel as badly -almost as you do about it." He paused a moment and then said simply, "I -was so proud of you, Hugh." - -"Don't!" Hugh exclaimed. "I want to kill myself when you say things like -that." - -"You don't understand. I know that you don't understand. I've been doing -a lot of thinking since Prom, too. I've thought over a lot of things -that you've said to me--about me, I mean. Why, Hugh, you think I'm not -human. I don't believe you think I have passions like the rest of you. -Well, I do, and sometimes it's--it's awful. I'm telling you that so -you'll understand that I know how you feel. But love's beautiful to me, -Hugh, the most wonderful thing in the world. I was in love with a girl -once--and I know. She didn't give a hang for me; she thought I was a -baby. I suffered awfully; but I know that my love was beautiful, as -beautiful as--" He looked around for a simile--"as to-night. I think -it's because of that that I hate mugging and petting and that sort of -thing. I don't want beauty debased. I want to fight when orchestras jazz -famous arias. Well, petting is jazzing love; and I hate it. Do you see -what I mean?" - -Hugh looked at him wonderingly. He didn't know this Norry at all. "Yes," -he said slowly; "yes, I see what you mean; I think I do, anyway. But -what has it to do with me?" - -"Well, I know most of the fellows pet and all that sort of thing, and -they don't think anything about it. But you're different; you love -beautiful things as much as I do. You told me yourself that Jimmie -Henley said last year that you were gifted. You can write and sing and -run, but I've just realized that you aren't proud of those things at -all; you just take them for granted. And you're ashamed that you write -poetry. Some of your poems are good, but you haven't sent any of them to -the poetry magazine. You don't want anybody to know that you write -poetry. You're trying to make yourself like fellows that are inferior to -you." Norry was piteously in earnest. His hero had crumbled into clay -before his eyes, and he was trying to patch him together again -preparatory to boosting him back upon his pedestal. - -"Oh, cripes, Norry," Hugh said a little impatiently, "you exaggerate all -my virtues; you always have. I'm not half the fellow you think I am. I -do love beautiful things, but I don't believe my poetry is any good." He -paused a moment and then confessed mournfully: "I'll admit, though, that -I have been going downhill. I'm going to do better from now on. You -watch me." - -They talked for hours, Norry embarrassing Hugh with the frankness of -his admiration. Norry's hero-worship had always embarrassed him, but he -didn't like it when the worshiper began to criticize. He admitted the -justness of the criticism, but it hurt him just the same. Perching on a -pedestal had been uncomfortable but a little thrilling; sitting on the -ground and gazing up at his perch was rather humiliating. The fall had -bruised him; and Norry, with the best intentions in the world, was -kicking the bruises. - -Nevertheless, he felt better after the talk, determined to win back -Norry's esteem and his own. He swore off smoking and drinking and stuck -to his oath. He told Vinton that if he brought any more liquor to their -room one of them was going to be carried out, and that he had a hunch -that it would be Vinton. Vinton gazed at him with round eyes and -believed him. After that he did his drinking elsewhere, confiding to his -cronies that Carver was on the wagon and that he had got as religious as -holy hell. "He won't let me drink in my own room," he wailed dolorously. -And then with a sudden burst of clairvoyance, he added, "I guess his -girl has given him the gate." - -For weeks the campus buzzed with talk about the Prom. A dozen men who -had been detected _flagrante delicto_ were summarily expelled. Many -others who had been equally guilty were in a constant state of mental -goose-flesh. Would the next mail bring a summons from the dean? -President Culver spoke sternly in chapel and hinted that there would be -no Prom the coming year. Most of the men said that the Prom had been an -"awful brawl," but there were some who insisted that it was no worse -than the Proms held at other colleges, and recited startling tales in -support of their argument. - -Leonard Gates finally settled the whole matter for Hugh. There had been -many discussions in the Nu Delta living-room about the Prom, and in one -of them Gates ended the argument with a sane and thoughtful statement. - -"The Prom was a brawl," he said seriously, "a drunken brawl. We all -admit that. The fact that Proms at other colleges are brawls, too, -doesn't make ours any more respectable. If a Yale man happens to commit -murder and gets away with it, that is no reason that a Harvard man or a -Sanford man should commit murder, too. Some of you are arguing like -babies. But some of you are going to the other extreme. - -"You talk as if everybody at the Prom was lit. Well, I wasn't lit, and -as a matter of fact most of them weren't lit. Just use a little common -sense. There were three hundred and fifty couples at the Prom. Now, not -half of them even had a drink. Say that half did. That makes one hundred -and seventy-five fellows. If fifty of those fellows were really soused, -I'll eat my hat, but we'll say that there were fifty. Fifty were quite -enough to make the whole Prom look like a longshoreman's ball. You've -got to take the music into consideration, too. That orchestra could -certainly play jazz; it could play it too damn well. Why, that music was -enough to make a saint shed his halo and shake a shimmy. - -"What I'm getting to is this: there are over a thousand fellows in -college, and out of that thousand not more than fifty were really soused -at the Prom, and not more than a hundred and seventy-five were even a -little teed. To go around saying that Sanford men are a lot of muckers -just because a small fraction of them acted like gutter-pups is sheer -bunk. The Prom was a drunken brawl, but all Sanford men aren't -drunkards--not by a damn sight." - -Hugh had to admit the force of Gates's reasoning, and he found comfort -in it. He had been just about ready to believe that all college men and -Sanford men in particular were hardly better than common muckers. But in -the end the comfort that he got was small: he realized bitterly that he -was one of the minority that had disgraced his college; he was one of -the gutter-pups. The recognition of that undeniable fact cut deep. - -He was determined to redeem himself; he _had_ to, somehow. Living a life -of perfect rectitude was not enough; he had to do something that would -win back his own respect and the respect of his fellows, which he -thought, quite absurdly, that he had forfeited. So far as he could see, -there was only one way that he could justify his existence at Sanford; -that was to win one of the dashes in the Sanford-Raleigh meet. He clung -to that idea with the tenacity of a fanatic. - -He had nearly a month in which to train, and train he did as he never -had before. His diet became a matter of the utmost importance; a -rub-down was a holy rite, and the words of Jansen, the coach, divine -gospel. He placed in both of the preliminary meets, but he knew that he -could do better; he wasn't yet in condition. - -When the day for the Raleigh-Sanford meet finally came, he did not feel -any of the nervousness that had spelled defeat for him in his freshman -year. He was stonily calm, silently determined. He was going to place in -the hundred and win the two-twenty or die in the attempt. No golden -dreams of breaking records excited him. Calvert of Raleigh was running -the hundred consistently in ten seconds and had been credited with -better time. Hugh had no hopes of defeating him in the hundred, but -there was a chance in the two-twenty. Calvert was a short-distance man, -the shorter the better. Two hundred and twenty yards was a little too -far for him. - -Calvert did not look like a runner. He was a good two inches shorter -than Hugh, who lacked nearly that much of six feet. Calvert was heavily -built--a dark, brawny chap, both quick and powerful. Hugh looked at him -and for a moment hated him. Although he did not phrase it so--in fact, -he did not phrase it at all--Calvert was his obstacle in his race for -redemption. - -Calvert won the hundred-yard dash in ten seconds flat, breaking the -Sanford-Raleigh record. Hugh, running faster than he ever had in his -life, barely managed to come in second ahead of his team-mate Murphy. -The Sanford men cheered him lustily, but he hardly listened. He _had_ to -win the two-twenty. - -At last the runners were called to the starting-line. They danced up and -down the track flexing their muscles. Hugh was tense but more determined -than nervous. Calvert pranced around easily; he seemed entirely -recovered from his great effort in the hundred. Finally the starter -called them to their marks. They tried their spikes in the -starting-holes, scraped them out a bit more, made a few trial dashes, -and finally knelt in line at the command of the starter. - -Hugh expected Calvert to lead for the first hundred yards; but the last -hundred, that was where Calvert would weaken. Calvert was sure to be -ahead at the beginning--but after that! - -"On your marks. - -"Set." - -The pistol cracked. The start was perfect; the five men leaped forward -almost exactly together. For once Calvert had not beaten the others off -the mark, but he immediately drew ahead. He was running powerfully, his -legs rising and falling in exact rhythm, his spikes tearing into the -cinder path. But Hugh and Murphy were pressing him close. At the end of -the first hundred Calvert led by a yard. Hugh pounded on, Murphy falling -behind him. The others were hopelessly outclassed. Hugh did not think; -he did not hear a thousand men shouting hysterically, "Carver! Carver!" -He saw nothing but Calvert a yard ahead of him. He knew nothing but that -he had to make up that yard. Down the track they sped, their breath -bursting from them, their hands clenched, their faces grotesquely -distorted, their legs driving them splendidly on. - -Hugh was gaining; that yard was closing. He sensed it rather than saw -it. He saw nothing now, not even Calvert. Blinded with effort, his lungs -aching, his heart pounding terribly, he fought on, mechanically keeping -between the two white lines. Ten yards from the tape he was almost -abreast of Calvert. He saw the tape through a red haze; he made a final -valiant leap for it--but he never touched it: Calvert's chest had -broken it a tiny fraction of a second before. - -Hugh almost collapsed after the race. Two men caught him and carried -him, despite his protests, to the dressing-room. At first he was aware -only of his overwhelming weariness. Something very important had -happened. It was over, and he was tired, infinitely tired. A rub-down -refreshed his muscles, but his spirit remained weary. For a month he had -thought of nothing but that race--even Cynthia had become strangely -insignificant in comparison with it--and now that the race had been run -and lost, his whole spirit sagged and drooped. - -He was pounded on the back; his hand was grasped and shaken until it -ached; he was cheered to an echo by the thrilled Sanford men; but still -his depression remained. He had won his letter, he had run a magnificent -race, all Sanford sang his praise--Norry Parker had actually cried with -excitement and delight--but he felt that he had failed; he had not -justified himself. - -A few days later he entered Henley's office, intending to make only a -brief visit. Henley congratulated him. "You were wonderful, Hugh," he -said enthusiastically. "The way that you crawled up on him the last -hundred yards was thrilling. I shouted until I was hoarse. I never saw -any one fight more gamely. He's a faster man than you are, but you -almost beat him. I congratulate you--excuse the word, please--on your -guts." - -Somehow Hugh couldn't stand Henley's enthusiasm. Suddenly he blurted out -the whole story, his drunkenness at the Prom, his split with Cynthia--he -did not mention the visit to Norry's room--his determination to redeem -himself, his feeling that if he had won that race he would at least have -justified his existence at the college, and, finally, his sense of -failure. - -Henley listened sympathetically, amused and touched by the boy's naive -philosophy. He did not tell him that the race was relatively -unimportant--he was sure that Hugh would find that out for himself--but -he did bring him comfort. - -"You did not fail, Hugh," he said gently; "you succeeded magnificently. -As for serving your college, you can always serve it best by being -yourself, being true to yourself, I mean, and that means being the very -fine gentleman that you are." He paused a minute, aware that he must be -less personal; Hugh was red to the hair and gazing unhappily at the -floor. - -"You must read Browning," he went on, "and learn about his -success-in-failure philosophy. He maintains that it is better to strive -for a million and miss it than to strive for a hundred and get it. 'A -man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?' He says it -in a dozen different ways. It's the man who tries bravely for something -beyond his power that gets somewhere, the man who really succeeds. Well, -you tried for something beyond your power--to beat Calvert, a really -great runner. You tried to your utmost; therefore, you succeeded. I -admire your sense of failure; it means that you recognize an ideal. But -I think that you succeeded. You may not have quite justified yourself to -yourself, but you have proved capable of enduring a hard test bravely. -You have no reason to be depressed, no reason to be ashamed." - -They talked for a long time, and finally Henley confessed that he -thought Cynthia had been wise in taking herself out of Hugh's life. - -"I can see," he said, "that you aren't telling me quite all the story. I -don't want you to, either. I judge, however, from what you have said -that you went somewhere with her and that only complete drunkenness -saved you from disgracing both yourself and her. You need no lecture, I -am sure; you are sufficiently contrite. I have a feeling that she was -right about sexual attraction being paramount; and I think that she is a -very brave girl. I like the way she went home, and I like the way she -has kept silent. Not many girls could or would do that. It takes -courage. From what you have said, however, I imagine that she is not -your kind; at least, that she isn't the kind that is good for you. You -have suffered and are suffering, I know, but I am sure that some day you -are going to be very grateful to that girl--for a good many reasons." - -Hugh felt better after that talk, and the end of the term brought him a -surprise that wiped out his depression and his sense of failure. He -found, too, that his pain was growing less; the wound was healing. -Perversely, he hated it for healing, and he poked it viciously to feel -it throb. Agony had become sweet. It made life more intense, less -beautiful, perhaps, but more wonderful, more real. Romantically, too, he -felt that he must be true both to his love and to his sorrow, and his -love was fading into a memory that was plaintively gray but shot with -scarlet thrills--and his sorrow was bowing before the relentless -excitement of his daily life. - -The surprise that rehabilitated him in his own respect was his election -to the Boule, the senior council and governing board of the student -body. It was the greatest honor that an undergraduate could receive, and -Hugh had in no way expected it. When Nu Delta had first suggested to him -that he be a candidate, he had demurred, saying that there were other -men in his delegation better fitted to serve and with better chances of -election. Leonard Gates, however, felt otherwise; and before Hugh knew -what had happened he was a candidate along with thirty other juniors, -only twelve of whom could be elected. - -He took no part in the campaigning, attended none of the caucuses, was -hardly interested in the fraternity "combine" that promised to elect -him. He did not believe that he could be elected; he saw no reason why -he should be. As a matter of fact, as Gates and others well knew, his -chances were more than good. Hugh was popular in his own right, and his -great race in the Sanford-Raleigh meet had made him something of a hero -for the time being. Furthermore, he was a member of both the Glee and -Banjo Clubs, he had led his class in the spring sings for three years, -and he had a respectable record in his studies. - -The tapping took place in chapel the last week of classes. After the -first hymn, the retiring members of the Boule rose and marched down the -aisle to where the juniors were sitting. The new members were tapped in -the order of the number of votes that they had received, and the first -man tapped, having received the largest number of votes, automatically -became president of the Boule for the coming year. - -Hugh's interest naturally picked up the day of the election, and he -began to have faint hopes that he would be the tenth or eleventh man. To -his enormous surprise he was tapped third, and he marched down the -aisle to the front seat reserved for the new members with the applause -of his fellows sweet in his ears. It didn't seem possible; he was one of -the most popular and most respected men in his class. He could not -understand it, but he didn't particularly care to understand it; the -honor was enough. - -Nu Delta tried to heap further honors on him, but he declined them. As a -member of Boule he was naturally nominated for the presidency of the -chapter. Quite properly, he felt that he was not fitted for such a -position; and he retired in favor of John Lawrence, the only man in his -delegation really capable of controlling the brothers. Lawrence was a -man like Gates. He would, Hugh knew, carry on the constructive work that -Gates had so splendidly started. Nu Delta was in the throes of one of -those changes so characteristic of fraternities. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -Hugh spent his last college vacation at home, working on the farm, -reading, occasionally dancing at Corley Lake, and thinking a great deal. -He saw Janet Harton, now Janet Moffitt, several times at the lake and -wondered how he could ever have adored her. She was still childlike, -still dainty and pretty, but to Hugh she was merely a talking doll, and -he felt a little sorry for her burly, rather stupid husband who lumbered -about after her like a protecting watch-dog. - -He met plenty of pretty girls at the lake, but, as he said, he was "off -women for good." He was afraid of them; he had been severely burnt, and -while the fire still fascinated him, it frightened him, too. Women, he -was sure, were shallow creatures, dangerous to a man's peace of mind and -self-respect. They were all right to dance with and pet a bit; but that -was all, absolutely all. - -He thought a lot about girls that summer and even more about his life -after graduation from college. What was he going to do? Life stretched -ahead of him for one year like a smooth, flowered plain--and then the -abyss. He felt prepared to do nothing at all, and he was not swept by an -overpowering desire to do anything in particular. Writing had the -greatest appeal for him, but he doubted his ability. Teach? Perhaps. But -teaching meant graduate work. Well, he would see what the next year at -college would show. He was going to take a course in composition with -Professor Henley, and if Henley thought his gifts warranted it, he would -ask his father for a year or two of graduate work at Harvard. - -College was pleasant that last year. It was pleasant to wear a blue -sweater with an orange S on it; it was pleasant, too, to wear a small -white hat that had a blue B on the crown, the insignia of the Boule and -a sign that he was a person to be respected and obeyed; it was pleasant -to be spoken to by the professors as one who had reached something -approaching manhood; life generally was pleasant, not so exciting as the -three preceding years but fuller and richer. Early in the first term he -was elected to Helmer, an honor society that possessed a granite "tomb," -a small windowless building in which the members were supposed to -discuss questions of great importance and practice secret rites of -awe-inspiring wonder. As a matter of fact, the monthly meetings were -nothing but "bull fests," or as one cynical member put it, "We wear a -gold helmet on our sweaters and chew the fat once a month." True -enough, but that gold helmet glittered enticingly in the eyes of every -student who did not possess one. - -For the first time Hugh's studies meant more to him than the -undergraduate life. He had chosen his instructors carefully, having -learned from three years of experience that the instructor was far more -important than the title of the course. He had three classes in -literature, one in music--partly because it was a "snap" and partly -because he really wanted to know more about music--and his composition -course with Henley, to him the most important of the lot. - -He really studied, and at the end of the first term received three A's -and two B's, a very creditable record. What was more important than his -record, however, was the fact that he was really enjoying his work; he -was intellectually awakened and hungry for learning. - -Also, for the first time he really enjoyed the fraternity. Jack Lawrence -was proving an able president, and Nu Delta pledged a freshman -delegation of which Hugh was genuinely proud. There were plenty of men -in the chapter whom he did not like or toward whom he was indifferent, -but he had learned to ignore them and center his interest in those men -whom he found congenial. - -The first term was ideal, but the second became a maelstrom of doubt and -trouble in which he whirled madly around trying to find some philosophy -that would solve his difficulties. - -When Norry returned to college after the Christmas vacation, he told -Hugh that he had seen Cynthia. Naturally, Hugh was interested, and the -mere mention of Cynthia's name was still enough to quicken his pulse. - -"How did she look?" he asked eagerly. - -"Awful." - -"What! What's the matter? Is she sick?" - -Norry shook his head. "No, I don't think she is exactly sick," he said -gravely, "but something is the matter with her. You know, she has been -going an awful pace, tearing around like crazy. I told you that, I know, -when I came back in the fall. Well, she's kept it up, and I guess she's -about all in. I couldn't understand it. Cynthia's always run with a fast -bunch, but she's never had a bad name. She's beginning to get one now." - -"No!" Hugh was honestly troubled. "What's the matter, anyway? Didn't you -try to stop her?" - -Norry smiled. "Of course not. Can you imagine me stopping Cynthia from -doing anything she wanted to do? But I did have a talk with her. She got -hold of me one night at the country club and pulled me off in a corner. -She wanted to talk about you." - -"Me?" Hugh's heart was beginning to pound. "What did she say?" - -"She asked questions. She wanted to know everything about you. I guess -she asked me a thousand questions. She wanted to know how you looked, -how you were doing in your courses, where you were during vacation, if -you had a girl--oh, everything; and finally she asked if you ever talked -about her?" - -"What did you say?" Hugh demanded breathlessly. - -"I told her yes, of course. Gee, Hugh, I thought she was going to cry. -We talked some more, all about you. She's crazy about you, Hugh; I'm -sure of it. And I think that's why she's been hitting the high spots. I -felt sorry as the devil for her. Poor kid...." - -"Gee, that's tough; that's damn tough. Did she send me any message?" - -"No. I asked her if she wanted to send her love or anything, and she -said she guessed not. I think she's having an awful time, Hugh." - -That talk tore Hugh's peace of mind into quivering shreds. Cynthia was -with him every waking minute, and with her a sense of guilt that would -not down. He knew that if he wrote to her he might involve himself in a -very difficult situation, but the temptation was stronger than his -discretion. He wanted to know if Norry was right, and he knew that he -would never have an hour's real comfort until he found out. Cynthia had -told him that she was not in love with him; she had said definitely -that their attraction for each other was merely sexual. Had she lied to -him? Had she gone home in the middle of Prom, week because she thought -she ought to save him from herself? He couldn't decide, and he felt that -he had to know. If Cynthia was unhappy and he was the cause of her -unhappiness, he wanted, he assured himself, to "do the right thing," and -he had very vague notions indeed of what the right thing might be. - -Finally he wrote to her. The letter took him hours to write, but he -flattered himself that it was very discreet; it implied nothing and -demanded nothing. - - - Dear Cynthia: - - I had a talk with Norry Parker recently that has - troubled me a great deal. He said that you seemed both - unwell and unhappy, and he felt that I was in some way - responsible for your depression. Of course, we both know - how ingenuous and romantic Norry is; he can find tragedy - in a cut finger. I recognize that fact, but what he told - me has given me no end of worry just the same. - - Won't you please write to me just what is wrong--if - anything really is and if I have anything to do with it. - I shall continue to worry until I get your letter. - - Most sincerely, - HUGH. - - -Weeks went by and no answer came. Hugh's confusion increased. He -thought of writing her another letter, but pride and common sense -forbade. Then her letter came, and all of his props were kicked suddenly -from under him. - - - Oh my dear, my dear [she wrote], I swore that I wouldn't - answer your letter--and here I am doing it. I've fought - and fought, and fought until I can't fight any longer; - I've held out as long as I can. Oh, Hugh my dearest, I - love you. I can't help it--I do, I do. I've tried so - hard not to--and when I found that I couldn't help it I - swore that I would never let you know--because I knew - that you didn't love me and that I am bad for you. I - thought I loved you enough to give you up--and I might - have succeeded if you hadn't written to me. - - Oh, Hugh dearest, I nearly fainted when I saw your - letter. I hardly dared open it--I just looked and looked - at your beloved handwriting. I cried when I did read it. - I thought of the letters you used to write to me--and - this one was so different--so cold and impersonal. It - hurt me dreadfully. - - I said that I wouldn't answer it--I swore that I - wouldn't. And then I read your old letters--I've kept - every one of them--and looked at your picture--and - to-night you just seemed to be here--I could see your - sweet smile and feel your dear arms around me--and Hugh, - my darling, I had to write--I _had_ to. - - My pride is all gone. I can't think any more. You are - all that matters. Oh, Hugh dearest, I love you so damned - hard. - - CYNTHIA. - - -Two hours after the letter arrived it was followed by a telegram: - - - Don't pay any attention to my letter. I was crazy when I - wrote it. - - -Hugh had sense enough to pay no attention to the telegram; he tossed it -into the fireplace and reread the letter. What could he do? What -_should_ he do? He was torn by doubt and confusion. He looked at her -picture, and all his old longing for her returned. But he had learned to -distrust that longing. He had got along for a year without her; he had -almost ceased thinking of her when Norry brought her back to his mind. -He had to answer her letter. What could he say? He paced the floor of -his room, ran his hands through his hair, pounded his forehead; but no -solution came. He took a long walk into the country and came back more -confused than ever. He was flattered by her letter, moved by it; he -tried to persuade himself that he loved her as she loved him--and he -could not do it. His passion for her was no longer overpowering, and no -amount of thinking could make it so. In the end he temporized. His -letter was brief. - - - Dear Cynthia: - - There is no need, I guess, to tell you that your letter - swept me clean off my feet. I am still dizzy with - confusion. I don't know what to say, and I have decided - that it is best for me not to say anything until I know - my own mind. I couldn't be fair either to you or myself - otherwise. And I want to be fair; I must be. - - Give me time, please. It is because I care so much for - you that I ask it. Don't worry if you don't hear from me - for weeks. My silence won't mean that I have forgotten - you; it will mean that I am thinking of you. - - Sincerely, - HUGH. - - -Her answer came promptly: - - - Hugh, my dear-- - - I was a fish to write that letter--and I know that I'll - never forgive myself. But I couldn't help it--I just - couldn't help it. I am glad that you are keeping your - head because I've lost mine entirely. Take all the time - you like. Do you hate me for losing my pride? I do. - - Your stupid - CYNTHIA. - - -Weeks went by, and Hugh found no solution. He damned college with all -his heart and soul. What good had it done him anyway? Here he was with a -serious problem on his hands and he couldn't solve it any better than he -could have when he was a freshman. Four years of studying and lectures -and examinations, and the first time he bucked up against a bit of life -he was licked. - -Eventually he wrote to her and told her that he was fonder of her than -he was of any girl that he had ever known but that he didn't know -whether he was in love with her or not. "I have learned to distrust my -own emotions," he wrote, "and my own decisions. The more I think the -more bewildered I become. I am afraid to ask you to marry me for fear -that I'll wreck both our lives, and I'm afraid not to ask you for the -same reason. Do you think that time will solve our problem? I don't -know. I don't know anything." - -She replied that she was willing to wait just so long as they continued -to correspond; she said that she could no longer bear not to hear from -him. So they wrote to each other, and the tangle of their relations -became more hopelessly knotted. Cynthia never sent another letter so -unguarded as her first, but she made no pretense of hiding her love. - -As Hugh sank deeper and deeper into the bog of confusion and distress, -his contempt for his college "education" increased. One night in May he -expressed that contempt to a small group of seniors. - -"College is bunk," said Hugh sternly, "pure bunk. They tell us that we -learn to think. Rot! I haven't learned to think; a child can solve a -simple human problem as well as I can. College has played hell with me. -I came here four years ago a darned nice kid, if I do say so myself. I -was chock-full of ideals and illusions. Well, college has smashed most -of those ideals and knocked the illusions plumb to hell. I thought, for -example, that all college men were gentlemen; well, most of them aren't. -I thought that all of them were intelligent and hard students." - -The group broke into loud laughter. "Me, too," said George Winsor when -the noise had abated. "I thought that I was coming to a regular -educational heaven, halls of learning and all that sort of thing. Why, -it's a farce. Here I am sporting a Phi Bete key, an honor student if you -please, and all that I really know as a result of my college 'education' -is the fine points of football and how to play poker. I don't really -know one damn thing about anything." - -The other men were Jack Lawrence and Pudge Jamieson. Jack was an earnest -chap, serious and hard working but without a trace of brilliance. He, -too, wore a Phi Beta Kappa key, and so did Pudge. Hugh was the only one -of the group who had not won that honor; the fact that he was the only -one who had won a letter was hardly, he felt, complete justification. -His legs no longer seemed more important than his brains; in fact, when -he had sprained a tendon and been forced to drop track, he had been -genuinely pleased. - -Pudge was quite as plump as he had been as a freshman and quite as -jovial, but he did not tell so many smutty stories. He still persisted -in crossing his knees in spite of the difficulties involved. When -Winsor finished speaking, Pudge forced his legs into his favorite -position for them and then twinkled at Winsor through his glasses. - -"Right you are, George," he said in his quick way. "I wear a Phi Bete -key, too. We both belong to the world's greatest intellectual -fraternity, but what in hell do we know? We've all majored in English -except Jack, and I'll bet any one of us can give the others an exam -offhand that they can't pass. I'm going to law school. I hope to God -that I learn something there. I certainly don't feel that I know -anything now as a result of my four years of 'higher education.'" - -"Well, if you fellows feel that way," said Hugh mournfully, "how do you -suppose I feel? I made my first really good record last term, and that -wasn't any world beater. I've learned how to gamble and smoke and drink -and pet in college, but that's about all that I have learned. I'm not as -fine as I was when I came here. I've been coarsened and cheapened; all -of us have. I take things for granted that shocked me horribly once. I -know that they ought to shock me now, but they don't. I've made some -friends and I've had a wonderful time, but I certainly don't feel that I -have got any other value out of college." - -Winsor could not sit still and talk. He filled his pipe viciously, -lighted it, and then jumped up and leaned against the mantel. "I admit -everything that's been said, but I don't believe that it is altogether -our fault." He was intensely in earnest, and so were his listeners. -"Look at the faculty. When I came here I thought that they were all wise -men because they were On the faculty. Well, I've found out otherwise. -Some of them know a lot and can't teach, a few of them know a lot and -can teach, some of them know a little and can't teach, and some of them -don't know anything and can't explain c-a-t. Why, look at Kempton. That -freshman, Larson, showed me a theme the other day that Kempton had -corrected. It was full of errors that weren't marked, and it was nothing -in the world but drip. Even Larson knew that, but he's the foxy kid; he -wrote the theme about Kempton. All right--Kempton gives him a B and -tells him that it is very amusing. Hell of a lot Larson's learning. Look -at Kane in math. I had him when I was a freshman." - -"Me, too," Hugh chimed in. - -"'Nough said, then. Math's dry enough, God knows, but Kane makes it -dryer. He's a born desiccator. He could make 'Hamlet' as dry as -calculus." - -"Right-o," said Pudge. "But Mitchell could make calculus as exciting as -'Hamlet.' It's fifty-fifty." - -"And they fired Mitchell." Jack Lawrence spoke for the first time. "I -have that straight. The administration seems afraid of a man that can -teach. They've made Buchanan a full professor, and there isn't a man in -college who can tell what he's talking about. He's written a couple of -books that nobody reads, and that makes him a scholar. I was forced to -take three courses with him. They were agony, and he never taught me a -damn thing." - -"Most of them don't teach you a damn thing," Winsor exclaimed, tapping -his pipe on the mantel. "They either tell you something that you can -find more easily in a book, or just confuse you with a lot of ponderous -lectures that put you to sleep or drive you crazy if you try to -understand them." - -"There are just about a dozen men in this college worth listening to," -Hugh put in, "and I've got three of them this term. I'm learning more -than I did in my whole three first years. Let's be fair, though. We're -blaming it all on the profs, and you know damn well that we don't study. -All we try to do is to get by--I don't mean you Phi Betes; I mean all -the rest of us--and if we can put anything over on the profs we are -tickled pink. We're like a lot of little kids in grammar-school. Just -look at the cheating that goes on, the copying of themes, and the -cribbing. It's rotten!" - -Winsor started to protest, but Hugh rushed on. "Oh, I know that the -majority of the fellows don't consciously cheat; I'm talking about the -copying of math problems and the using of trots and the paraphrasing of -'Literary Digest' articles for themes and all that sort of thing. If -more than half of the fellows don't do that sort of thing some time or -other in college, I'll eat my hat. And we all know darned well that we -aren't supposed to do it, but the majority of fellows cheat in some way -or other before they graduate! - -"We aren't so much. Do you remember, George, what Jimmie Henley said to -us when we were sophomores in English Thirty-six? He laid us out cold, -said that we were as standardized as Fords and that we were ashamed of -anything intellectual. Well, he was right. Do you remember how he ended -by saying that if we were the cream of the earth, he felt sorry for the -skimmed milk--or something like that?" - -"Sure, _I_ remember," Winsor replied, running his fingers through his -rusty hair. "He certainly pulled a heavy line that day. He was right, -too." - -"I'll tell you what," exclaimed Pudge suddenly, so suddenly that his -crossed legs parted company and his foot fell heavily to the floor. -"Let's put it up to Henley in class to-morrow. Let's ask him straight -out if he thinks college is worth while." - -"He'll hedge," objected Lawrence. "All the profs do if you ask them -anything like that." Winsor laughed. "You don't know Jimmie Henley. He -won't hedge. You've never had a class with him, but Hugh and Pudge and -I are all in English Fifty-three, and we'll put it up to him. He'll tell -us what he thinks all right, and I hope to God that he says it is worth -while. I'd like to have somebody convince me that I've got something out -of these four years beside lower ideals. Hell, sometimes I think that -we're all damn fools. We worship athletics--no offense, Hugh--above -everything else; we gamble and drink and talk like bums; and about every -so often some fellow has to go home because a lovely lady has left him -with bitter, bitter memories. I'm with Henley. If we're the cream of the -earth--well, thank the Lord, we're not." - -"Who is," Lawrence asked earnestly. - -"God knows." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -English 53 had only a dozen men in it; so Henley conducted the course in -a very informal fashion. The men felt free to bring up for discussion -any topic that interested them. - -Nobody was surprised, therefore, when George Winsor asked Henley to -express his opinion of the value of a college education. He reminded -Henley of what he had said two years before, and rapidly gave a resume -of the discussion that resulted in the question he was asking. "We'd -like to know, too," he concluded, grinning wickedly, "just whom you -consider the cream of the earth. You remember you said that if we were -you felt sorry for the skimmed milk." - -Henley leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Yes," he said, "I remember -saying that. I didn't think, though, that you would remember it for two -years. You seem to remember most of what I said. I am truly astonished." -He grinned back at Winsor. "The swine seem to have eaten the pearls." - -The class laughed, but Winsor was not one to refuse the gambit. "They -were very indigestible," he said quickly. - -"Good!" Henley exclaimed. "I wanted them to give you a belly-ache, and I -am delighted that you still suffer." - -"We do," Pudge Jamieson admitted, "but we'd like to have a little mercy -shown to us now. We've spent four years here, and while we've enjoyed -them, we've just about made up our minds that they have been all in all -wasted years." - -"No." Henley was decisive. His playful manner entirely disappeared. "No, -not wasted. You have enjoyed them, you say. Splendid justification. You -will continue to enjoy them as the years grow between you and your -college days. All men are sentimental about college, and in that -sentimentality there is continuous pleasure." - -"Your doubt delights me. Your feeling that you haven't learned anything -delights me, too. It proves that you have learned a great deal. It is -only the ignoramus who thinks he is wise; the wise man knows that he is -an ignoramus. That's a platitude, but it is none the less true. I have -cold comfort for you: the more you learn, the less confident you will be -of your own learning, the more utterly ignorant you will feel. I have -never known so much as, the day I graduated from high school. I held my -diploma and the knowledge of the ages in my hand. I had never heard of -Socrates, but I would have challenged him to a debate without the -slightest fear." - -"Since then I have grown more humble, so humble that there are times -when I am ashamed to come into the class-room. What right have I to -teach anybody anything? I mean that quite sincerely. Then I remember -that, ignorant as I am, the undergraduates are more ignorant. I take -heart and mount the rostrum ready to speak with the authority of a -pundit." - -He realized that he was sliding off on a tangent and paused to find a -new attack. Pudge Jamieson helped him. - -"I suppose that's all true," he said, "but it doesn't explain why -college is really worth while. The fact remains that most of us don't -learn anything, that we are coarsened by college, and that we--well, we -worship false gods." - -Henley nodded in agreement. "It would be hard to deny your assertions," -he acknowledged, "and I don't think that I am going to try to deny them. -Of course, men grow coarser while they are in college, but that doesn't -mean that they wouldn't grow coarser if they weren't in college. It -isn't college that coarsens a man and destroys his illusions; it is -life. Don't think that you can grow to manhood and retain your pretty -dreams. You have become disillusioned about college. In the next few -years you will suffer further disillusionment. That is the price of -living." - -"Every intelligent man with ideals eventually becomes a cynic. It is -inevitable. He has standards, and, granted that he is intelligent, he -cannot fail to see how far mankind falls below those standards. The -result is cynicism, and if he is truly intelligent, the cynicism is -kindly. Having learned that man is frail, he expects little of him; -therefore, if he judges at all, his judgment is tempered either with -humor or with mercy." - -The dozen boys were sprawled lazily in their chairs, their feet resting -on the rungs of the chairs before them, but their eyes were fastened -keenly on Henley. All that he was saying was of the greatest importance -to them. They found comfort in his words, but the comfort raised new -doubts, new problems. - -"How does that affect college?" Winsor asked. - -"It affects it very decidedly," Henley replied. "You haven't become true -cynics yet; you expect too much of college. You forget that the men who -run the college and the men who attend it are at best human beings, and -that means that very much cannot be expected of them. You do worship -false gods. I find hope in the fact that you recognize the stuff of -which your gods are made. I have great hopes for the American colleges, -not because I have any reason to believe that the faculties will become -wiser or that the administrations will lead the students to true gods; -not at all, but I do think that the students themselves will find a way. -They have already abandoned Mammon; at least, the most intelligent have, -and I begin to see signs of less adoration for athletics. Athletics, of -course, have their place, and some of the students are beginning to find -that place. Certainly the alumni haven't, and I don't believe that the -administrative officers have, either. Just so long as athletes advertise -the college, the administrations will coddle them. The undergraduates, -however, show signs of frowning on professionalism, and the stupid -athlete is rapidly losing his prestige. An athlete has to show something -more than brawn to be a hero among his fellows nowadays." - -He paused, and Pudge spoke up. "Perhaps you are right," he said, "but I -doubt it. Athletics are certainly far more important to us than anything -else, and the captain of the football team is always the biggest man in -college. But I don't care particularly about that. What I want to know -is how the colleges justify their existence. I don't see that you have -proved that they do." - -"No, I haven't," Henley admitted, "and I don't know that I can prove it. -Of course, the colleges aren't perfect, not by a long way, but as human -institutions go, I think they justify their existence. The four years -spent at college by an intelligent boy--please notice that I say -intelligent--are well spent indeed. They are gloriously worth while. You -said that you have had a wonderful time. Not so wonderful as you think. -It is a strange feeling that we have about our college years. We all -believe that they are years of unalloyed happiness, and the further we -leave them behind the more perfect they seem. As a matter of fact, few -undergraduates are truly happy. They are going through a period of storm -and stress; they are torn by _Weltschmerz_. Show me a nineteen-year-old -boy who is perfectly happy and you show me an idiot. I rarely get a -cheerful theme except from freshmen. Nine tenths of them are expressions -of deep concern and distress. A boy's college years are the years when -he finds out that life isn't what he thought it, and the finding out is -a painful experience. He discovers that he and his fellows are made of -very brittle clay: usually he loathes himself; often he loathes his -fellows. - -"College isn't the Elysium that it is painted in stories and novels, but -I feel sorry for any intelligent man who didn't have the opportunity to -go to college. There is something beautiful about one's college days, -something that one treasures all his life. As we grow older, we forget -the hours of storm and stress, the class-room humiliations, the terror -of examinations, the awful periods of doubt of God and man--we forget -everything but athletic victories, long discussions with friends, campus -sings, fraternity life, moonlight on the campus, and everything that is -romantic. The sting dies, and the beauty remains. - -"Why do men give large sums of money to their colleges when asked? -Because they want to help society? Not at all. The average man doesn't -even take that into consideration. He gives the money because he loves -his alma mater, because he has beautiful and tender memories of her. No, -colleges are far from perfect, tragically far from it, but any -institution that commands loyalty and love as colleges do cannot be -wholly imperfect. There is a virtue in a college that uninspired -administrative officers, stupid professors, and alumni with false ideals -cannot kill. At times I tremble for Sanford College; there are times -when I swear at it, but I never cease to love it." - -"If you feel that way about college, why did you say those things to us -two years ago?" Hugh asked. "Because they were true, all true. I was -talking about the undergraduates then, and I could have said much more -cutting things and still been on the safe side of the truth. There is, -however, another side, and that is what I am trying to give you -now--rather incoherently, I know." - -Hugh thought of Cynthia. "I suppose all that you say is true," he -admitted dubiously, "but I can't feel that college does what it should -for us. We are told that we are taught to think, but the minute we bump -up against a problem in living we are stumped just as badly as we were -when we are freshmen." - -"Oh, no, not at all. You solve problems every day that would have -stumped you hopelessly as a freshman. You think better than you did four -years ago, but no college, however perfect, can teach you all the -solutions of life. There are no nostrums or cure-alls that the colleges -can give for all the ills and sicknesses of life. You, I am afraid, will -have to doctor those yourself." - -"I see." Hugh didn't altogether see. Both college and life seemed more -complicated than he had thought them. "I am curious to know," he added, -"just whom you consider the cream of the earth. That expression has -stuck in my mind. I don't know why--but it has." - -Henley smiled. "Probably because it is such a very badly mixed metaphor. -Well, I consider the college man the cream of the earth." - -"What?" four of the men exclaimed, and all of them sat suddenly upright. - -"Yes--but let me explain. If I remember rightly, I said that if you were -the cream of the earth, I hoped that God would pity the skimmed milk. -Well, everything taken into consideration, I do think that you are the -cream of the earth; and I have no hope for the skimmed milk. Perhaps it -isn't wise for me to give public expression to my pessimism, but you -ought to be old enough to stand it." - -"The average college graduate is a pretty poor specimen, but all in all -he is just about the best we have. Please remember that I am talking in -averages. I know perfectly well that a great many brilliant men do not -come to college and that a great many stupid men do come, but the -colleges get a very fair percentage of the intelligent ones and a -comparatively small percentage of the stupid ones. In other words, to -play with my mixed metaphor a bit, the cream is very thin in places and -the skimmed milk has some very thick clots of cream, but in the end the -cream remains the cream and the milk the milk. Everything taken into -consideration, we get in the colleges the young men with the highest -ideals, the loftiest purpose." - -"You want to tell me that those ideals are low and the purpose -materialistic and selfish. I know it, but the average college graduate, -I repeat, has loftier ideals and is less materialistic than the average -man who has not gone to college. I wish that I could believe that the -college gives him those ideals. I can't, however. The colleges draw the -best that society has to offer; therefore, they graduate the best." - -"Oh, I don't know," a student interrupted. "How about Edison and Ford -and--" - -"And Shakspere and Sophocles," Henley concluded for him. "Edison is an -inventive genius, and Ford is a business genius. Genius hasn't anything -to do with schools. The colleges, however, could have made both Ford and -Edison bigger men, though they couldn't have made them lesser geniuses." - -"No, we must not take the exceptional man as a standard; we've got to -talk about the average. The hand of the Potter shook badly when he made -man. It was at best a careless job. But He made some better than others, -some a little less weak, a little more intelligent. All in all, those -are the men that come to college. The colleges ought to do a thousand -times more for those men than they do do; but, after all, they do -something for them, and I am optimistic enough to believe that the time -will come when they will do more." - -"Some day, perhaps," he concluded very seriously, "our administrative -officers will be true educators; some day perhaps our faculties will be -wise men really fitted to teach; some day perhaps our students will be -really students, eager to learn, honest searchers after beauty and -truth. That day will be the millennium. I look for the undergraduates to -lead us to it." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -The college year swept rapidly to its close, so rapidly to the seniors -that the days seemed to melt in their grasp. The twentieth of June would -bring them their diplomas and the end of their college life. They felt a -bit chesty at the thought of that B.S. or A.B., but a little sentimental -at the thought of leaving "old Sanford." - -Suddenly everything about the college became infinitely precious--every -tradition; every building, no matter how ugly; even the professors, not -just the deserving few--all of them. - -Hugh took to wandering about the campus, sometimes alone, thinking of -Cynthia, sometimes with a favored crony such as George Winsor or Pudge -Jamieson. He didn't see very much of Norry the last month or two of -college. He was just as fond of him as ever, but Norry was only a -junior; he would not understand how a fellow felt about Sanford when he -was on the verge of leaving her. But George and Pudge did understand. -The boys didn't say much as they wandered around the buildings, merely -strolled along, occasionally pausing to laugh over some experience that -had happened to one of them in the building they were passing. - -Hugh could never pass Surrey Hall without feeling something deeper than -sentimentality. He always thought of Carl Peters, from whom he had not -heard for more than a year. He understood Carl better now, his desire -to be a gentleman and his despair at ever succeeding. Surrey Hall held -drama for Hugh, not all of it pleasant, but he had a deeper affection -for the ivy-covered dormitory then he would ever have for the Nu Delta -House. He wondered what had become of Morse, the homesick freshman. -Poor Morse.... And the bull sessions he had sat in in old Surrey. He -had learned a lot from them, a whole lot.... - -The chapel where he had slept and surreptitiously eaten doughnuts and -read "The Sanford News" suddenly became a holy building, the building -that housed the soul of Sanford.... He knew that he was sentimental, that -he was investing buildings with a greater significance than they had in -their own right, but he continued to dream over the last four years and -to find a melancholy beauty in his own sentimentality. If it hadn't -been for Cynthia, he would have been perfectly happy. - -Soon the examinations were over, and the underclassmen began to -depart. Good-by to all his friends who were not seniors. Good-by to -Norry Parker. "Thanks for the congratulations, old man. Sorry I can't -visit you this summer. Can't you spend a month with me on the farm...?" -Good-by to his fraternity brothers except the few left in his own -delegation. "Good-by, old man, good-by.... Sure, I'll see you next year -at the reunion." Good-by.... Good-by.... - -Sad, this business of saying good-by, damn sad. Gee, how a fellow would -miss all the good old eggs he had walked with and drunk with and bulled -with these past years. Good eggs, all of them--damn good eggs.... God! -a fellow couldn't appreciate college until he was about to leave it. -Oh, for a chance to live those four years over again. "Would I live -them differently? I'll say I would." - -Good-by, boyhood.... Commencement was coming. Hugh hadn't thought -before of what that word meant. Commencement! The beginning. What was -he going to do with this commencement of his into life? Old Pudge was -going to law school and so was Jack Lawrence. George Winsor was going -to medical school. But what was he going to do? He felt so pathetically -unprepared. And then there was Cynthia.... What was he going to do -about her? She rarely left his mind. How could he tackle life when he -couldn't solve the problem she presented? It was like trying to run a -hundred against fast men when a fellow had only begun to train. - -Henley had advised him to take a year or so at Harvard if his father -proved willing, and his father was more than willing, even eager. He -guessed that he'd take at least a year in Cambridge. Perhaps he could -find himself in that year. Maybe he could learn to write. He hoped to -God he could. - - * * * * * - -Just before commencement his relations with Cynthia came to a climax. -They had been constantly becoming more complicated. She was demanding -nothing of him, but her letters were tinged with despair. He felt at -last that he must see her. Then he would know whether he loved her or -not. A year before she had said that he didn't. How did she know? She -had said that all he felt for her was sex attraction. How did she know -that? Why, she had said that was all that she felt for him. And he had -heard plenty of fellows argue that love was nothing but sexual -attraction anyway, and that all the stuff the poets wrote was pure bunk. -Freud said something like that, he thought, and Freud knew a damn sight -more about it than the poets. - -Yet, the doubt remained. Whether love was merely sexual attraction or -not, he wanted something more than that; his every instinct demanded -something more. He had noticed another thing: the fellows that weren't -engaged said that love was only sexual attraction; those who were -engaged vehemently denied it, and Hugh knew that some of the engaged -men had led gay lives in college. He could not reach any decision; at -times he was sure that what he felt for Cynthia was love; at other times -he was sure that it wasn't. - -At last in desperation he telegraphed to her that he was coming to New -York and that she should meet him at Grand Central at three o'clock the -next day. He knew that he oughtn't to go. He would be able to stay in -New York only a little more than two hours because his father and mother -would arrive in Haydensville the day following, and he felt that he had -to be there to greet them. He damned himself for his impetuousness all -during the long trip, and a dozen times he wished he were back safe in -the Nu Delta house. What in hell would he say to Cynthia, anyway? What -would he do when he saw her? Kiss her? "I won't have a damned bit of -sense left if I do." - -She was waiting for him as he came through the gate. Quite without -thinking, he put down his bag and kissed her. Her touch had its old -power; his blood leaped. With a tremendous effort of will he controlled -himself. That afternoon was all-important; he must keep his head. - -"It's sweet of you to come," Cynthia whispered, clinging to him, "so -damned sweet." - -"It's damned good to see you," he replied gruffly. "Come on while I -check this bag. I've only got a little over two hours, Cynthia; I've -got to get the five-ten back. My folks will be in Haydensville to-morrow -morning, and I've got to get back to meet them." - -Her face clouded for an instant, but she tucked her arm gaily in his and -marched with him across the rotunda to the checking counter. When Hugh -had disposed of his bag, he suggested that they go to a little tea room -on Fifty-seventh Street. She agreed without argument. Once they were in -a taxi, she wanted to snuggle down into his arm, but she restrained -herself; she felt that she had to play fair. - -Hugh said nothing. He was trying to think, and his thoughts whirled -around in a mad, drunken dance. He believed that he would be married -before he took the train back, at least engaged, and what would all that -mean? Did he want to get married? God! he didn't know. - -When at last they were settled in a corner of the empty tea-room and had -given their order, they talked in an embarrassed fashion about their -recent letters, both of them carefully quiet and restrained. Finally -Hugh shoved his plate and cup aside and looked straight at her for the -first time. She was thin, much thinner than she had been a year ago, but -there was something sweeter about her, too; she seemed so quiet, so -gentle. - -"We aren't going to get anywhere this way, Cynthia," he said -desperately. "We're both evading. I haven't any sense left, but what I -say from now on I am going to say straight out. I swore on the train -that I wouldn't kiss you. I knew that I wouldn't be able to think if I -did--and I can't; all I know is that I want to kiss you again." He -looked at her sitting across the little table from him, so slender and -still--a different Cynthia but damnably desirable. "Cynthia," he added -hoarsely, "if you took my hand, you could lead me to hell." - -She in turn looked at him. He was much older than he had been a year -before. Then he had been a boy; now he seemed a man. He had not changed -particularly; he was as blond and young and clean as ever, but there was -something about his mouth and eyes, something more serious and more -stern, that made him seem years older. - -"I don't want to lead you to hell, honey," she replied softly. "I left -Prom last year so that I wouldn't do that. I told you then that I wasn't -good for you--but I'm different now." - -"I can see that. I don't know what it is, but you're different, awfully -different." He leaned forward suddenly. "Cynthia, shall we go over to -Jersey and get married? I understand that one can there right away. -We're both of age--" - -"Wait, Hugh; wait." Cynthia's hands were tightly clasped in her lap. -"Are you sure that you want to? I've been thinking a lot since I got -your telegram. Are you sure you love me?" - -He slumped back into his chair. "I don't know what love is," he -confessed miserably. "I can't find out." Cynthia's hands tightened in -her lap. "I've tried to think this business out, and I can't. I haven't -any right to ask you to marry me. I haven't any money, not a bit, and -I'm not prepared to do anything, either. As I wrote you, my folks want -me to go to Harvard next year." The mention of his poverty and of his -inability to support a wife brought him back to something approaching -normal again. "I suppose I'm just a kid, Cynthia," he added more -quietly, "but sometimes I feel a thousand years old. I do right now." - -"What were your plans for next year and after that until you saw me?" -Her eyes searched his. - -"Oh, I thought I'd go to Harvard a year or two and then try to write or -perhaps teach. Writing is slow business, I understand, and teaching -doesn't pay anything. I don't want to ask my father to support us, and I -won't let your folks. I lost my head when I suggested that we get -married. It would be foolish. I haven't the right." - -"No," she agreed slowly; "no, neither of us has the right. I thought -before you came if you asked me to marry you--I was sure somehow that -you would--I would run right off and do it, but now I know that I -won't." She continued to gaze at him, her eyes troubled and confused. -What made him seem so much older, so different? - -"Do you think we can ever forget Prom?" She waited for his reply. So -much depended on it. - -"Of course," he answered impatiently. "I've forgotten that already. We -were crazy kids, that's all--youngsters trying to act smart and wild." - -"Oh!" The ejaculation was soft, but it vibrated with pain. "You mean -that--that you wouldn't--well, you wouldn't get drunk like that again?" - -"Of course not, especially at a dance. I'm not a child any longer, -Cynthia. I have sense enough now not to forfeit my self-respect again. I -hope so, anyway. I haven't been drunk in the last year. A drunkard is a -beastly sight, rotten. If I have learned anything in college, it is that -a man has to respect himself, and I can't respect any one any longer who -deliberately reduces himself to a beast. I was a beast with you a year -ago. I treated you like a woman of the streets, and I abused Norry -Parker's hospitality shamefully. If I can help it, I'll never act like a -rotter again, I hate a prig, Cynthia, like the devil, but I hate a -rotter even more. I hope I can learn to be neither." - -As he spoke, Cynthia clenched her hands so tightly that the finger-nails -were bruising her tender palms, but her eyes remained dry and her lips -did not tremble. If he could have seen _her_ on some parties this last -year.... - -"You have changed a lot." Her words were barely audible. "You have -changed an awful lot." - -He smiled. "I hope so. There are times now when I hate myself, but I -never hate myself so much as when I think of Prom. I've learned a lot in -the last year, and I hope I've learned enough to treat a decent girl -decently. I have never apologized to you the way I think I ought to." - -"Don't!" she cried, her voice vibrant with pain. "Don't! I was more to -blame than you were. Let's not talk about that." - -"All right. I'm more than willing to forget it." He paused and then -continued very seriously, "I can't ask you to marry me now, -Cynthia--but--but are you willing to wait for me? It may take time, but -I promise I'll work hard." - -Cynthia's hands clenched convulsively. "No, Hugh honey," she whispered; -"I'll never marry you. I--I don't love you." - -"What?" he demanded, his senses swimming in hopeless confusion. "What?" - -She did not say that she knew that he did not love her; she did not tell -him how much his quixotic chivalry moved her. Nor did she tell him that -she knew only too well that she could lead him to hell, as he said, but -that that was the only place that she could lead him. These things she -felt positive of, but to mention them meant an argument--and an -argument would have been unendurable. - -"No," she repeated, "I don't love you. You see, you're so different from -what I remembered. You've grown up and you've changed. Why, Hugh, we're -strangers. I've realized that while you've been talking. We don't know -each other, not a bit. We only saw each other for a week summer before -last and for two days last spring. Now we're two altogether different -people; and we don't know each other at all." - -She prayed that he would deny her statements, that he would say they -knew each other by instinct--anything, so long as he did not agree. - -"I certainly don't know you the way you're talking now," he said almost -roughly, his pride hurt and his mind in a turmoil. "I know that we don't -know each other, but I never thought that you thought that mattered." - -Her hands clenched more tightly for an instant--and then lay open and -limp in her lap. - -Her lips were trembling; so she smiled. "I didn't think it mattered -until you asked me to marry you. Then I knew it did. It was game of you -to offer to take a chance, but I'm not that game. I couldn't marry a -strange man. I like that man a lot, but I don't love him--and you don't -want me to marry you if I don't love you, do you, Hugh?" - -"Of course not." He looked down in earnest thought and then said -softly, his eyes on the table, "I'm glad that you feel that way, -Cynthia." She bit her lip and trembled slightly. "I'll confess now that -I don't think that I love you, either. You sweep me clean off my feet -when I'm with you, but when I'm away from you I don't feel that way. I -think love must be something more than we feel for each other." He -looked up and smiled boyishly. "We'll go on being friends anyhow, won't -we?" - -Somehow she managed to smile back at him. "Of course," she whispered, -and then after a brief pause added: "We had better go now. Your train -will be leaving pretty soon." - -Hugh pulled out his watch. "By jingo, so it will." - -He called the waiter, paid his bill, and a few minutes later they turned -into Fifth Avenue. They had gone about a block down the avenue when Hugh -saw some one a few feet ahead of him who looked familiar. Could it be -Carl Peters? By the Lord Harry, it was! - -"Excuse me a minute, Cynthia, please. There's a fellow I know." - -He rushed forward and caught Carl by the arm. Carl cried, "Hugh, by -God!" and shook hands with him violently. "Hell, Hugh, I'm glad to see -you." - -Hugh turned to Cynthia, who was a pace behind them. He introduced Carl -and Cynthia to each other and then asked Carl why in the devil he -hadn't written. - -Carl switched his leg with his cane and grinned. "You know darn well, -Hugh, that I don't write letters, but I did mean to write to you; I -meant to often. I've been traveling. My mother and I have just got back -from a trip around the world. Where are you going now?" - -"Oh, golly," Hugh exclaimed, "I've got to hurry if I'm going to make -that train. Come on, Carl, with us to Grand Central. I've got to get the -five-ten back to Haydensville. My folks are coming up to-morrow for -commencement." Instantly he hated himself. Why did he have to mention -commencement? He might have remembered that it should have been Carl's -commencement, too. - -Carl, however, did not seem in the least disturbed, and he cheerfully -accompanied Hugh and Cynthia to the station. He looked at Cynthia and -had an idea. - -"Have you checked your bag?" - -"Yes," Hugh replied. - -"Well, give me the check and I'll get it for you. I'll meet you at the -gate." - -Hugh surrendered the check and then proceeded to the gate with Cynthia. -He turned to her and asked gently, "May I kiss you, Cynthia?" - -For an instant she looked down and said nothing; then she turned her -face up to his. He kissed her tenderly, wondering why he felt no -passion, afraid that he would. - -"Good-by, Cynthia dear," he whispered. - -Her hands fluttered helplessly about his coat lapels and then fell to -her side. She managed a brave little smile. "Good-by--honey." - -Carl rushed up with the bag. "Gosh, Hugh, you've got to hurry; they're -closing the gate." He gripped his hand for a second. "Visit me at Bar -Harbor this summer if you can." - -"Sure. Good-by, old man. Good-by Cynthia." - -"Good-by--good-by." - -Hugh slipped through the gate and, turned to wave at Carl and Cynthia. -They waved back, and then he ran for the train. - -On the long trip to Haydensville Hugh relaxed. Now that the strain was -over, he felt suddenly weak, but it was sweet weakness. He could -graduate in peace now. The visit to New York had been worth while. And -what do you know, bumping into old Carl like that I Cynthia and he were -friends, too, the best friends in the world, but she no longer wanted to -marry him. That was fine.... He remembered the picture she and Carl had -made standing on the other side of the gate from him. "What a peach of a -pair. Golly, wouldn't it be funny if they hit it off...." - -He thought over every word that he and Cynthia had said. She certainly -had been square all right. Not many like her, but "by heaven, I knew -down in my heart all the time that I didn't want to get married or even -engaged. It would have played hell with everything." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -The next morning Hugh's mother and father arrived in the automobile. He -was to drive them back to Merrytown the day after commencement. At last -he stood in the doorway of the Nu Delta house and welcomed his father, -but he had forgotten all about that youthful dream. He was merely aware -that he was enormously glad to see the "folks" and that his father -seemed to be withering into an old man. - -As the under-classmen departed, the alumni began to arrive. The "five -year" classes dressed in extraordinary outfits--Indians, Turks, and men -in prison garb roamed the campus. There were youngsters just a year out -of college, still looking like undergraduates, still full of college -talk. The alumni ranged all the way from these one-year men to the -fifty-year men, twelve old men who had come back to Sanford fifty years -after their graduation, and two of them had come all the way across the -continent. There had been only fifty men originally in that class; and -twelve of them were back. - -What brought them back? Hugh wondered. He thought he knew, but he -couldn't have given a reason. He watched those old men wandering slowly -around the campus, one of them with his grandson who was graduating this -year, and he was awed by their age and their devotion to their alma -mater. Yes, Henley had been right. Sanford was far from perfect, far -from it--a child could see that--but there was something in the college -that gripped one's heart. What faults that old college had; but how one -loved her! - -Thousands of Japanese lanterns had been strung around the campus; an -electric fountain sparkled and splashed its many-colored waters; a band -seemed to be playing every hour of the day and night from the band-stand -in front of the Union. It was a gay scene, and everybody seemed superbly -happy except, possibly, the seniors. They pretended to be happy, but all -of them were a little sad, a little frightened. College had been very -beautiful--and the "world outside," what was it? What did it have in -store for them? - -There were mothers and fathers there to see their sons receive their -degrees, there were the wives and children of the alumni, there were -sisters and fiancees of the seniors. Nearly two thousand people; and at -least half of the alumni drunk most of the time. Very drunk, many of -them, and very foolish, but nobody minded. Somehow every one seemed to -realize that in a few brief days they were trying to recapture a -youthful thrill that had gone forever. Some of the drunken ones seemed -very silly, some of them seemed almost offensive; all of them were -pathetic. - -They had come back to Sanford where they had once been so young and -exuberant, so tireless in pleasure, so in love with living; and they -were trying to pour all that youthful zest into themselves again out of -a bottle bought from a bootlegger. Were they having a good time? Who -knows? Probably not. A bald-headed man does not particularly enjoy -looking at a picture taken in his hirsute youth; and yet there is a -certain whimsical pleasure in the memories the picture brings. - -For three days there was much gaiety, much singing of class songs, -constant parading, dances, speech-making, class circuses, and endless -shaking of hands and exchanging of reminiscences. The seniors moved -through all the excitement quietly, keeping close to their relatives and -friends. Graduation wasn't so thrilling as they had expected it to be; -it was more sad. The alumni seemed to be having a good time; they were -ridiculously boyish: only the seniors were grave, strangely and -unnaturally dignified. - -Most of the alumni left the night before the graduation exercises. The -parents and fiancees remained. They stood in the middle of the campus -and watched the seniors, clad in caps and gowns, line up before the -Union at the orders of the class marshal. - -Finally, the procession, the grand marshal, a professor, in the lead -with a wand in his hand, then President Culver and the governor of the -State, then the men who were to receive honorary degrees--a writer, a -college president, a philanthropist, a professor, and three -politicians--then the faculty in academic robes, their many-colored -hoods brilliant against their black gowns. And last the seniors, a long -line of them marching in twos headed by their marshal. - -The visitors streamed after them into the chapel. The seniors sat in -their customary seats, the faculty and the men who were to receive -honorary degrees on a platform that had been built at the altar. After -they were seated, everything became a blur to Hugh. He hardly knew what -was happening. He saw his father and mother sitting in the transept. He -thought his mother was crying. He hoped not.... Some one prayed -stupidly. There was a hymn.... What was it Cynthia had said? Oh, yes: "I -can't marry a stranger." Well, they weren't exactly strangers.... He was -darn glad he had gone to New York.... The president seemed to be saying -over and over again, "By the power invested in me ..." and every time -that he said it, Professor Blake would slip the loop of a colored hood -over the head of a writer or a politician--and then it was happening all -over again. - -Suddenly the class marshal motioned to the seniors to rise. They put on -their mortar-boards. The president said once more, "By the power -invested in me...." The seniors filed by the president, and the grand -marshal handed each of them a roll of parchment tied with blue and -orange ribbons. Hugh felt a strange thrill as he took his. He was -graduated; he was a bachelor of science.... Back again to their seats. -Some one was pronouncing benediction.... Music from the organ--marching -out of the chapel, the surge of friends--his father shaking his hand, -his mother's arms around his neck; she _was_ crying.... - -Graduation was over, and, with it Hugh's college days. Many of the -seniors left at once. Hugh would have liked to go, too, but his father -wanted to stay one more day in Haydensville. Besides, there was a final -senior dance that night, and he thought that Hugh ought to attend it. - -Hugh did go to the dance, but somehow it brought him no pleasure. -Although it was immensely decorous, it reminded him of Cynthia. He -thought of her tenderly. The best little girl he'd ever met.... He -danced on, religiously steering around the sisters and fiancees of his -friends, but he could not enjoy the dance. Shortly after eleven he -slipped out of the gymnasium and made one last tour of the campus. - -It was a moonlight night, and the campus was mysterious with shadows. -The elms shook their leaves whisperingly; the tower of the chapel looked -like magic tracery in the moonlight. He paused before Surrey Hall, now -dark and empty. Good old Carl.... Carl and Cynthia? He wondered.... -Pudge had roomed there, too. He passed on. Keller Hall, Cynthia and -Norry.... "God, what a beast I was that night. How white Norry was--and -Cynthia, too," Cynthia again. She'd always be a part of Sanford to him. -On down to the lake to watch the silver path of the moonlight and the -heavy reflections near the shore. Swimming, canoeing, skating--he and -Cynthia in the woods beyond.... On back to the campus, around the -buildings, every one of them filled with memories. Four years--four -beautiful, wonderful years.... Good old Sanford.... - -Midnight struck. Some one turned a switch somewhere. The Japanese -lanterns suddenly lost their colors and faded to gray balloons in the -moonlight. Some men were singing on the Union steps. It was a few -seniors, Hugh knew; they had been singing for an hour. - -He stood in the center of the campus and listened, his eyes full of -tears. Earnestly, religiously, the men sang, their voices rich with -emotion: - - - "Sanford, Sanford, mother of men, - Love us, guard us, hold us true. - Let thy arms enfold us; - Let thy truth uphold us. - Queen of colleges, mother of men-- - Alma mater--Sanford--hail! - Alma-mater--Hail!--Hail!" - - -Hugh walked slowly across the campus toward the Nu Delta house. He was -both happy and sad--happy because the great adventure was before him -with all its mystery, sad because he was leaving something beautiful -behind.... - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Plastic Age, by Percy Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLASTIC AGE *** - -***** This file should be named 16532.txt or 16532.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/3/16532/ - -Produced by Scott G. Sims and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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