“Oh, for gosh’s sake, shut up; there’s no sense in quarreling over this matter. Finch won’t get into the Dealonian, but whether he can or not, I’d just as soon vote for him.”
“Well, I’ll be hanged if I would,” asserted Wilson. “And what’s more I’ll get up in the meeting and say it’s a darn fool proposition and ought to be turned down.”
“What’s the sense in doing that? It’ll just mean that you and Tony will have a serious falling-out, and the crowd will get busted up. What’s the use? It ain’t worth while.”
“The heck it isn’t! I won’t compromise a principle for a friend ever, I don’t care who he is. Nor I won’t have a friend ram his ideas down my throat. I’ve as much right to put a fellow up or blackball him in the Dealonian as Tony has. Seems to me he’s getting——.”
“Oh, shut up. You are working yourself all up over nothing. It isn’t worth it. Don’t quarrel with Tony.”
“Seems to me Tony’s picking the quarrel with me. Who flung himself out of the room just now? I didn’t, I guess. I tell you what, Jim, if Tony wants to keep on good terms with me, he can; but he’s not going to make the price of his friendship my voting to suit him about anything. I guess we made Tony Deering in this school—you and I.”
“Rot!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Tony made himself. He’d have been the head of the school if we had never exchanged a word with him. We’ve been darn glad to have him in the crowd, that’s the truth of it; he’s been the center of it ever since he’s been here. You were keen enough about making him president of the Dealonian, and I guess you want him for head prefect next year.”
“’Course I was keen; ‘course I do ... I’m all serene. If there’s a quarrel, it won’t be my fault. But I’m going to blackball Finch for the good of the Society, ‘cause I think it would be a mistake to let him in, and I hope you’ll do the same.”
“Well, I won’t.”
“Do as you please, that’s your right. So long, kiddo, I guess I’ll seek a more congenial clime for the time bein’.” And with that Kit swung himself out of the room.