"Billy" meant Nolan, the one with long hair, and he was a university football man, and the training season had begun. Linton made this remark in an ordinary tone, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to request seven or eight men to leave a room. He struck a match for his pipe as he finished speaking, and then lifted his feet up on the table and leaned back without looking at the under-classmen. The Sophomores said, "All right," meekly arose, murmured, "Good-night," and smiling rather sheepishly departed. Young looked on with mingled feelings. They outnumbered the Juniors seven to two, and yet the arrogant Sophomores did not even question the Junior's power. He was learning something about these traditions and customs; evidently the authority was not in bodily strength. But the two upper-classmen, without waiting to see what became of the Sophomores, began forthwith to tell Young how different were the two secret literary societies, whose mysterious, Greek temples looked so much alike there side by side on the campus, and to point out how superior was their own "hall," as they called it. Nolan, who was a famous orator in this hall, did most of the talking. Linton only put in a word now and then, but he kept glancing at the Freshman in a queer, quizzical way as he blew smoke. When they arose to go Linton said, in a pleasant tone: "I suppose the Sophomores are bothering you a good deal?" Young wondered what made Linton say so. "No," he replied; "they tried to make me take off my hat yesterday, but I wouldn't do it." He thought that would impress these upper-classmen. Linton glanced at Nolan, who smiled. "Say, Young," said Linton, kindly, "of course it's none of my business, but--well, I'd take off my hat if I were you." "Why?" "Oh, well, because you're a Freshman." "But what right have they to make me take off my hat to them? They aren't any better than----" "Because they're Sophomores. Come on, Billy." He opened the door. "You think it over, Young. Good-night. Glad to have met you, Young." Then on his way downstairs he added to his friend Billy Nolan, "I like that big, green Freshman, but he needs hazing." "He _is_ rather fresh. Do you think we'll secure him, Jim?" "But you can hardly blame him for taking himself so seriously," Linton went on as they gained the street "You see he has always lived at home, didn't go away to prep. school, was never guyed or anything of that sort in all his innocent life, and he doesn't know how to take it. He was an important person at home--probably led his class at the High School--has a lot of little brothers and sisters that bow down to him; and they've told him that he is a great man so often that he thinks there must be something in it. His hands show he has worked on a farm, but the palms are soft now--I noticed that shaking hands--so he's probably clerked in a store or taught school; yes, he's probably taught school."