“The heck it isn’t! I won’t compromise a principle for a friend ever, I don’t care who he is. Nor I won’t have a friend ram his ideas down my throat. I’ve as much right to put a fellow up or blackball him in the Dealonian as Tony has. Seems to me he’s getting——.” “Oh, shut up. You are working yourself all up over nothing. It isn’t worth it. Don’t quarrel with Tony.” “Seems to me Tony’s picking the quarrel with me. Who flung himself out of the room just now? I didn’t, I guess. I tell you what, Jim, if Tony wants to keep on good terms with me, he can; but he’s not going to make the price of his friendship my voting to suit him about anything. I guess we made Tony Deering in this school—you and I.” “Rot!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Tony made himself. He’d have been the head of the school if we had never exchanged a word with him. We’ve been darn glad to have him in the crowd, that’s the truth of it; he’s been the center of it ever since he’s been here. You were keen enough about making him president of the Dealonian, and I guess you want him for head prefect next year.” “’Course I was keen; ‘course I do ... I’m all serene. If there’s a quarrel, it won’t be my fault. But I’m going to blackball Finch for the good of the Society, ‘cause I think it would be a mistake to let him in, and I hope you’ll do the same.” “Well, I won’t.” “Do as you please, that’s _your_ right. So long, kiddo, I guess I’ll seek a more congenial clime for the time bein’.” And with that Kit swung himself out of the room. Jimmie, genuinely distressed by this first serious difference in their congenial little circle, went over to Mr. Morris’s room, and took him into his confidence on the subject. Morris was not a little disturbed by the situation. He admired Tony’s purpose, but with Jimmie, thought it somewhat ill-judged and ill-timed, and deplored the possible cleavage it might make in the little knot of friends. But, characteristically, he did not see his way to interfering, even with advice. Unfortunately Tony and Kit again encountered each other that night in Reggie Carroll’s room. Tony was cool, and Reggie, ignorant of what had happened, made matters worse by asking them facetiously what had ruffled the sweet waters of their friendship. “Ask Tony,” answered Kit laconically, as he thumbed a school year book and tried to think of some way of getting out of the room. Tony shrugged his shoulders. “What’s up?” repeated Reggie. “Nothing particular,” Deering answered, after a pause. “We just don’t pull together in a certain matter.” “Well, what do you expect,” exclaimed Kit impulsively, “do you expect me to measure my opinions by yours?” “Rather not,” answered Tony, with a faint sneer, “you’d find them in that case a darn sight too big for you.” “Softly, softly,” protested Reggie. But Tony again was gone. When he got back to his own room later in the evening, Jimmie tried to talk the subject over with him, but Tony, ruffled and irritated, was not inclined to do so.