"Well, it does." "Oh, of course we want to enjoy ourselves." Stover saw he did not understand and somehow, feeling all the exuberant enthusiasm that actuated him, he hesitated to continue the explanation. "By George, Dink," continued McCarthy comically solicitous of his scheme of decoration, "is there anything like the air of this place? You can't resist it, can you? Every one's out working for something. By George, I hope I can make good!" "You will," said Stover. And in his mind was already something of the paternal protection that he had surprised in Hunter, the big man of the Andover crowd. "If I'm to do anything at football I've got to put on a deuce of a lot of weight," said McCarthy a little disconsolately. "Guess my best chance is at baseball." "The main thing, Tough, is to get out and try for everything," said Stover wisely. "Show you're a worker and it's going to count." "That's good advice--who put it into your head?" "Le Baron talked over a good many things with me," said Stover slowly. "He gave me a great many pointers. That's why I said go slow--we want to get with the right crowd." "The right crowd?" said McCarthy, wheeling about and staring at his room-mate. "What the deuce are you talking about, Dink? Do you mean to say any one cares who in the blankety-blank we eat with?" "Yes." "What! Who the deuce's business is it to meddle in my affairs? Right crowd and wrong crowd--there's only one crowd, and each man's as good as the other. That's the way I look at it." He stopped, amazed, looking over at Stover. "Why, Dink, I never expected you to stand for the right and wrong crowd idea." "I don't mean it the way you do," said Stover lamely--for he was trying to argue with himself. "We're trying to do something here, aren't we--not just loaf through? Well, we want to be with the crowd that's doing things." "Oh, if you mean it that way," said McCarthy dubiously, "that's different. I've been filled up for the last hour with nothing but society piffle by a measly-faced runt just out of the nursery called Schley. Skull and Bones--Locks and Keys--Wolf's-Head--gold bugs, hobgoblins, toe the line, heel the right crowd, mind your _p's_ and _q's_, don't call your soul your own, don't look at a society house, don't for heaven's sake look at a pin in a necktie, never say 'bones' or 'fee-fie-fo-fum' out loud--never--oh, rats, what bosh!" "Schley is an odious little toad," said Stover evasively. A little vain of his new knowledge and the destiny before him, he looked at the budding McCarthy with somewhat the anxiety of a mother hen, and said with great solemnity: "Don't go off half cock, old fellow." "What! Have you fallen for the bugaboo?" "My dear Tough," said Stover, with a little gorgeousness, "don't commit yourself until you know the whole business. You like the feeling here, don't you--the way every one is out working for something?" "You bet I do." "Well, it's the society system that does it." "Come off." "Wait and see."