it. Everybody seemed to take it for granted that he would be bid. Why did n’t they take it equally for granted that Carl would be bid as well? He thought perhaps it was because he was an athlete and Carl was n’t; but the truth was, of course, that the upper-classmen perceived the nouveau riche quality in Carl quite as clearly as he did himself. He knew that his money and the fact that he had gone to a fashionable prep school would bring him bids, but would they be from the right fraternities? That was the all-important question.
Those last three days of rushing were nerveracking. At night the invited freshmen—and that meant about two thirds of the class—were at the fraternity houses until eleven; between classes and during every free hour they were accosted by ear¬ nest fraternity men, each presenting the superior merits of his fraternity. The fraternity men were wearier than the freshmen. They sat up until the small hours every morning discussing the freshmen they had entertained the night before.
Hugh was in a daze. Over and over he heard the same words with only slight variations. A fra¬ ternity man would slap a fat book with an excited hand and exclaim: “This is ‘Baird’s Manual,’ the final authority on fraternities, and it’s got ab¬ solutely all the dope. You can see where we stand. Sixty chapters! You don’t join just this one, y’ understand; you join all of ’em. You’re
