The two juniors, struck by the violence of his entrance, turned abruptly, and Le Baron, a little pale, started forward, saying: "I say, Dink--" "Look here," he cried, flinging out a hand for silence, "I don't know why I didn't say it to you there--when you spoke to me. I don't know. I'm a low-livered coward and a skunk because I didn't! But I know now what I'm going to say, and I'll say it. You came to me, you dared to come to me and tell me what I was to do--to heel--that's what you meant; to cut out fellows I know and respect--oh, you didn't have the courage to say it out, but that's it. Well, now, I've just got one thing to say to you both. If this is what your society business means, if this is your idea of democracy--I'm through with you--" "Hold up," said Le Baron, springing forward. "I won't hold up," said Stover, beside himself, "for you or for any one else, or whatever you can do against me! Here's my answer--I'm through! You and the whole society can go plumb to Hell!" And suffocating, choking, blinded with his fury, he thrust his hand into his breast, and tore from his shirt the pin he had been given to wear, and flung it on the floor, stamped upon it, and bolted from the room. CHAPTER XX For an hour, bareheaded, he went plunging into the darkness, a prey to a nervous crisis, that left him shaking in every muscle. He knew the extent of his passions, and the anger which had swept over him left him weak and frightened. "It's lucky that runt of a Reynolds held his tongue," he said hotly. "By the Lord, I don't know what I would have done to him. Here, I must get hold of myself. This is terrible. Well, thank Heaven, it's over." He controlled himself slowly, and came back, limp and weak; yet beyond the physical reaction was a liberated soaring of the spirit. "I'm glad I did it! I never was gladder!" he said solemnly. "Good-by to the whole society game, Skull and Bones, and all the rest. But I take my stand from now on, and I stand on my own feet. I'm glad of it." Then he thought of Jean Story, and he was troubled. "I wonder if she'll understand? I can't help it. I couldn't do anything else. Now, I suppose the whole bunch will turn on me. So be it." It was long after midnight when he came back gloomily to the light still staring from his window, and toiled up the heavy steps. When he entered the room, Le Baron, Bob Story, and Joe Hungerford were sitting silently, waiting for him, and in Story's hand was the pin bruised by his furious heel. He saw at once the full strength of the appeal that was to be made to him, and he closed the door wearily. "I don't want to talk about it," he said slowly. "The whole thing is done and buried." Bob Story, agitated and solemn, came to him. "Dink, this is awful--the whole thing is awful," he said earnestly. "You've got to talk it out with us." "Do you understand, Bob," Stover said suddenly, "just what happened in this room?" "Yes, I think I do." "I don't believe it."