"Stover, I'm a politician," said Gimbel frankly. "I'm out for a big fight. I know the game here. I wouldn't talk to every one as I talk to you. I want you to understand me--more, I want you to like me. And I feel with you that the only way is to be absolutely honest. You see, I'm a politician," he said, with a laugh. "I've learned how to meet different men. Sometime I'm going to talk over things with you--seriously. Here we are now. I've got a bunch of fellows to see. McCarthy's probably looking for you. Don't make up your mind in a hurry about me--or about a good many things here. Ta-ta!" Stover watched him go gaily into the crowd, distributing bluff, vociferous welcomes, hilariously acclaimed. The man was new, represented a new element, a strange, dimly perceived, rebellious mass, with ideas that intruded themselves ungratefully on his waking vision. "Is he sincere?" he said to himself--a question that he was to apply a hundred times in the life that was beginning. CHAPTER V "Hello, there, Stover!" "Stover, over here!" "Oh, Dink Stover, this way!" Over the bared heads of the bobbing, shifting crowd he saw Hunter and McCarthy waving to him. He made his way through the strange assorted mass of freshmen to his friends, where already, instinctively, a certain picked element had coalesced. A dozen fellows, clean-cut, steady of head and eye, carrying a certain unmistakable, quiet assurance, came about him, gripping him warmly, welcoming him into the little knot with cordial acknowledgment. He felt the tribute, and he liked it. They were of his own kind, his friends to be, now and in the long reaches of life. "Fall in, fall in!" Ahead of them, the upper classes were already in rank. Behind, the freshmen, unorganized, distrustful, were being driven into lines of eight and ten by seniors, pipe in mouth, authoritative, quiet, fearfully enveloped in dignity. Cheers began to sound ahead, the familiar _brek-e-kek-kex_ with the class numeral at the end. A cry went up: "Here, we must have a cheer." "Give us a cheer." "Start her up." "Lead a cheer, some one." "Lead a cheer, Hunter." "Lead the cheer, Gimbel." "Lead the cheer, Stover." "Come on, Stover!" A dozen voices took up his name. He caught the infection. Without hesitating, he stepped by Hunter, who was hesitating, and cried: "Now, fellows, all together--the first cheer for the class! Are you ready? Let her rip!" The cheer, gathering momentum, went crashing above the noises of the street. The college burst into a mighty shout of acclaim--another class was born! Suddenly ahead the dancing lights of the senior torches began to undulate. Through the mass a hoarse roar went rushing, and a sudden muscular tension. "Grab hold of me." "Catch my arm." "Grip tight." "Get in line." "Move up." "Get the swing."