Pelham abruptly changed the subject. "I met one nice girl last week end, Neil--you would have liked her. Her father's Professor North at Cambridge, and she's full of all sorts of crazy notions. Ruth is a suffragette; wanted to vote, or run for governor, or something." "Shocking," his friend remarked languidly. He was used to Pelham's reactions. "Tried to convert me." There was silence for a few moments, then Neil straightened up in his chair. "Do you realize, Pelham, that in Wyoming, where I summered, women have voted for over thirty years? Why, the mayor of one of the mining towns is a mother who has raised eleven children! Crazy notions, indeed." Pelham looked disturbed. "They must be bad women, if they vote. Who ever heard of a decent lady mixing up with politics? Think of my mother, or yours, Neil; would you be willing to have her mingle with negroes and common riff-raff at the polls?" The other exploded at this. "She does! Mother's the best little stump speaker in the county! And Polly's been to two conventions already." Pelham lighted a handy cigarette. "I always said that Texans were batty." "What did you do to your suffragist, anyhow?" "Oh, she had too much coin for my simple taste. If father learned about her, he couldn't talk anything else.... Not for mine!" A rattle of knocks on the door broke off the discussion. Several graduate students pushed into the room. "Hello, Judson. Going out for supper, Neil?" He stretched himself up, and reached for a cap. "Pell and I were just about to prowl down to Heublein's." "Come on, then." As they crossed Chapel Street, the rubber-lunged news-boys were shouting, "All about the big strike! Street car men to quit to-morrow!" Pelham purchased a smudgy sheet. While the waiter was double-quicking their orders, all eyes were directed at the leading story. "Look at this," Ralph Jervis, one of the classmates, pointed insistently, "the president of the road says he'll break the strike with college men. Let's take a week off, and be blooming motormen!" A spectacled Senior dissented at once. "It wouldn't be the thing, fellows. Those strikers may be in the right, for all we know." Jervis howled his disgust. "That's what comes of joining the Socialist Study Club! Falkhaven's a regular anarchist. Why, it's a great idea! Are you on, Neil?" "Sure!" The Texan roused himself to answer briskly. "If Pell'll come too." "I'm for it," Pelham assented quietly. The constant deference and affection displayed toward his big-hearted roommate hurt him, against his will. For all his ability in studies and on the mat, Pelham was not popular. He had never been accepted in the higher circles of Sheff life, the Colony and Cloister groups; and he in turn held himself aloof from the run of the class.