"Now, you've got a chance to make good on the eleven this year. If you do, you stand in line for the captaincy senior year. It lies with you to be one of the big men in the class. And this is the way to do it: get to know every one in the class right off."
"What!" said Stover, genuinely surprised.
"I mean, bow to every one; call them by name: but hold yourself apart," said Le Baron. "Make fellows come to you. Don't talk too much. Hold yourself in. Keep out of the crowd that is out booze-fighting—or, when you're with them, keep your head. There are a lot of fellows here, with friends ahead of them, who can cut loose a certain amount; but it's dangerous. If you want to make what you ought to make of yourself, Stover, you've got to prove yourself; you've got to keep yourself well in hand."
Stover suddenly comprehended that Le Baron was exposing his own theory, that he, prospective captain of the crew, was imposing on himself.
"Don't ticket yourself for drinking."
"I won't."
"Or get known for gambling—oh, I'm not preaching a moral lesson; only, what you do, do quietly."
"I understand."
"And another thing: no fooling around women; that isn't done here—that'll queer you absolutely."