For a little time Larry merely stared down at the demonstration drawing he was making and said nothing. For a fellow with a good bit of Celtic blood in his veins, he was a trifle slow in grasping the full significance of a thing. As we have seen, Dick’s charge that he was prejudiced against the Greek-Letter fraternities was quite true. Moreover, he believed that his argument against them was sound: that they did make for a drawing apart and the formation of small cliques. And beyond this, there was that workingman’s grudge. If the fraternities were not all made up of the sons of rich men and money-spenders, the one or two that he knew most about seemed to lean that way; and, quite as certainly, some of their members looked down as “riff-raff” upon the “leavings,” which, in Old Sheddon, as in many other universities and colleges, comprised a good half or more of the student body. On the other hand ... well, up to that moment Larry hadn’t been admitting that there was any “other hand” worth mentioning; had fully and firmly decided that there couldn’t be――for him. Yet it takes a pretty strong resolution to be able to hold out when common old human vanity is appealed to. In a sort of flashlight picture Larry saw himself as one of the chosen ones, ensconced in the big, comfortable, not to say luxurious, frat house just across the street from the main entrance to the campus; still Dick’s loyal running mate and chum, and making good his standing with the other fellows in the house by winning an “S” for himself and the brotherhood in athletics. What if, after all, his ideas about the rich and poor distinctions were all wrong? It certainly looked that way when the exclusive Omegs were intending to give _him_ a bid. So his protest, when he made it, was really no protest at all. “If they should take me in, it would be entirely on your account, Dick; and I couldn’t stand for that.” “Not by a thousand parasangs! Those things go by secret ballot; Carey Lansing explained all that. I had nothing to do with it――couldn’t have, because I’m only a ‘pledge’ myself.” “Well, then, there’s the money. I’m a lot too poor to hold up my end with that bunch.” Dick sat down and squared himself aggressively. “Now, see here; let’s fight that out, once for all,” he argued. “Before we left home, my father, acting for the railroad company, offered to pay your way through college as a sort of prize for the good work you did last summer on the Little Ophir Extension. A week ago you told me you were sore at all the rich people, and were going to fling the money back in their faces and earn your own way. “I hope you’ve thought better of that by this time; and if you have, I’ve only this to say: Dad expects you to have all the advantages here that I shall have; he told me so. He――or the company――will pay your frat dues just as cheerfully as they will your tuition and board bills――you know they will.”