"The dirty pups! The goddamn stinkers! I hope you told Morton to go straight to hell." Hugh jumped up and stood over Carl excitedly.
"Keep your shirt on, Hugh. No, I didn't tell him to go to hell. I didn't say anything, but I know that all I've got to do to get an Alpha Sig bid to-morrow night is to let Morton know that I'd like to make the chapter a present. And I'm not sure—but I think maybe I'll do it."
"What!" Hugh cried. "You wouldn't, Carl! You know damn well you wouldn't." He was almost pleading.
"Hey, quit yelling and sit down." He got up, shoved Hugh back into his chair, and then sat down again. "I want to make one of the Big Three; I've got to. I don't believe that either Nu Delt or Kappa Zete is going to bid me. See? This is my only chance—and I think that I'm going to take it." He spoke deliberately, staring pensively into the fire.
"I don't see how you can even think of such a thing," Hugh said in painful wonderment. "Why, I'd rather never join a fraternity than buy myself into one."
"You aren't me."
"No, I'm not you. Listen, Carl." Hugh turned in his chair and faced Carl, who kept his eyes on the dying fire. "I'm going to say something awfully mean, but I hope you won't get mad.... You remember you told me once that you weren't a gentleman. I didn't believe you, but if you buy yourself into that—that bunch of—of gutter-pups, I'll—I'll—oh, hell, Carl, I'll have to believe it." He was painfully embarrassed, very much in earnest, and dreadfully unhappy.
"I told you that I wasn't a gentleman," Carl said sullenly. "Now you know it."
"I don't know anything of the sort. I'll never believe that you could do such a thing." He stood up again and leaned over Carl, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Carl," he said soberly, earnestly, "I promise that I won't go Nu Delt or any other fraternity unless they take you, too, if you'll promise me not to go Alpha Sig."
Carl looked up wonderingly. "What!" he exclaimed. "You'll turn down Nu Delt if they don't bid me, too?"