richer class. If, on the other hand, their present tendencies were coddled, their chances of flunking out of Tate before the end of Freshman year and developing into loafers, mere decorations for the society pages of the Sunday newspapers, were excellent.
As young Trask identified Harold as the effervescent "Speedy," the other two youths at the table took a vastly increased interest in him. They, however, seemed to regard him as more of a curiosity, an object of amusement, than as an equal. Harold, in his innocence, did not get this. His whole conception of the "Speedy" episode was that he had made a big hit, that the entire university was ready now to receive him with open arms. Moreover, he was making preparations to live up to the name of "Speedy." If popularity meant treating the whole college to ice cream daily, he would do it. Probably that was the way Chester Trask had got where he was. It was undoubtedly a Tate habit of recognizing a good fellow by eating ice cream at his expense.
"Where did you prep. Lamb?" Leonard Trask was asking him suavely.
"Sanford High School," Harold replied, and wondered why for the first time in his life he was a little ashamed of it.
"We three prepped at Westover," offered
