Carle joined the Omega Omicron. This was evident, even before the acquisition of the distinctive hatband, from the furious and absorbing intimacy which he developed with a certain coterie of fellows belonging to the fraternity. A dispassionate observer—Mr. Graham, for instance—would have perceived two distinct strains in the membership of the Omicron: an extravagant set of sports, courting a reputation for fastness; and a steadier, wiser, more manly group of well-to-do fellows who fell in naturally with others possessing similar monthly allowances, without adopting their views or their principles. It was this latter element which procured for the fraternity the countenance of the faculty. If any member of the Omicron had been asked—by his father, let us say, for no[Pg 67] student would have ventured upon such dangerous ground—what kind of fellows belonged to the society, he would have answered emphatically "mighty nice fellows." And the answer would have been in the main true, for the tendency toward conformity is strong in boys, often holding in temporary check the individual instinct which is destined to make the character of the man; and boy loyalty is notorious. But between Durand and Hendry, who represented the best of the Omicron, and Jones and Nicholson, who led the fast set, there was as much real difference as between blades of wheat and blades of grass. Poole and Lindsay belonged to another fraternity.

"You'd better look after your pitcher," said Durand one morning to Poole. "He's getting in debt."

Poole stopped short in his walk and stared in amazement into his companion's face.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I say," returned Durand, soberly. "He's borrowing and running bills."

"Where?"

[Pg 68]

"Where does he borrow? Well, Jones and Stratton are two he's borrowed from. There may be more. He's running bills at one drug store anyway, and I think with two of those out-of-town agents that show things down at Perkins's."

"Why don't you look after him?" demanded Poole, angrily. "He belongs to your bunch."

Durand shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not his guardian. I don't run the Omicron, either, as I've told you before."

"You ought to!" retorted Poole. "What did you get him in there for anyway?"

"I didn't get him in. In fact, and between ourselves, I voted against him."

"I should think you might have helped him along anyway, or at least not let your gang lead him off. You knew he was a scholarship man and hadn't money to throw away. Why didn't you stop him?"

"I did try to, Phil; honestly, I did," returned Durand, at last becoming warm; "but what could I do against all you fellows flattering him and praising him and kowtowing to him as if he[Pg 69] were a little tin god? You don't suppose he cares anything for my opinion, do you? You don't suppose that Jones and Stratton and Nicholson are going to throw around less money because he's with 'em, do you? Not on your life!"

Poole thought a few moments in silence. Then he looked up with a smile and dropped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I don't believe it's as bad as you make out," he said. "You always were prejudiced against the fellow, you and Lindsay too; and I think I know why. Owen's soured because he can't catch Carle here as he did at home. That made him throw over O'Connell in a sulky fit; and now, I suppose, he runs down Carle, and you fellows in Hale take his opinion."

Durand was listening with lips parted and eyes set in a stare of astonishment. "Well, of all the crazy ideas that is the limit! Owen has never, so far as I've known, said one word against Carle to any one. He did say why he changed O'Connell for Patterson. Patterson wanted to learn, and O'Connell couldn't be taught because[Pg 70] he knew it all without telling. You're entirely off about the whole business."

"I hope I am," said Poole.

"By the way, have you seen Owen cat............