“Let’s walk along, then. Well, how do you like it as far as you’ve got?” Gerald held the door open and Kendall murmured “Thank you,” and went through. “I like it very much,” he replied when they were outside on the path. “It――it’s different, though, from what I expected.” “Is it? How?” “Well, everything’s bigger, for one thing,” replied Kendall hesitatingly. “And――and the fellows are――are different.” “Don’t you like us?” laughed Gerald. “Oh, yes! That is, I don’t know anyone yet――except the fellow I room with, but you all seem very nice. I don’t know that I can explain just what I mean.” “Go ahead and try,” Gerald encouraged. “Well, everyone seems so――so old!” “Old?” “Yes, more like fellows in college, you know.” “Really? I never thought of that.” “Maybe old isn’t quite the word I want,” said Kendall reflectively. “No, I don’t guess it is. What I mean is that the fellows are so――so sort of confident, and――and――oh, I don’t know.” “I get you now,” replied Gerald. “Yes, I know what you mean. I noticed that myself when I came. It’s a sort of self-possession, isn’t it? You soon catch it, Burtis. You see, after all, Yardley is a good deal like a college. A fellow has to look after himself a good deal. They give us lots of rope here and you can hang yourself mighty easy, Burtis. Some fellows don’t understand that when they first come. They think that because they’re not watched by someone every minute that they can do as they please and it won’t matter. But it does matter, though. There’s no one here to say, ‘Now you must study your lessons and be a good boy,’ you see. Only when you _don’t_ study your lessons, and _aren’t_ a good boy, you get into trouble. A fellow can get along maybe half a term by faking, but when the exams come there’s a――a rude awakening, as they say in the stories. And then it’s too late. Out you go! Good night! So a fellow has to learn to look after himself here; has to realize that if he’s going to stay here he’s got to do things on his own incentive, and not wait to be told. If you don’t want to study here at Yardley, no one’s going to make you. Only some fine day you wake up and find that your trunk’s packed and that you’ve got your ticket home.” “I see,” said Kendall thoughtfully. “That accounts for it, I guess.” Gerald’s discourse had brought them to the doorway of Clarke and now they climbed the stairs together. Kendall wanted to ask the other boy to his room, but feared it might be considered “fresh.” Gerald solved the problem at the head of the stairs. “Come down to my room and chin awhile,” he said, leading the way along the hall. “Unless you want to change.” “No, I’ll wait now,” answered Kendall. Gerald pointed out the easiest chair to his guest, tossed his cap onto his bed and tossed himself onto the window seat, stuffing the many-hued pillows behind his back. “There’s another thing,” said Kendall, returning to the subject. “Everyone seems to be having such a good time.”