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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 tomorrow 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 tomorrow night.” He continued talking as they walked slowly down the stairs. “One more bit of advice. Don’t go anywhere else tonight. Go home to bed, and tomorrow 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 tonight 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 tomorrow 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

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