year--you, Tough McCarty--or the year
after that; you see if I don't!"

Tough McCarty stood back, rightfully offended. Cheyenne led Dink up to
his room and lectured him.

"Now, young bantam, listen to me. You've shown your colors and we
respect you for it. But you can't fight your way into being liked--put
that in your pipe and smoke it. You've got to keep a civil tongue in
your head and quit thinking this place was built for your special
benefit. Savez? You've got to win your way if you want to be one of
us. Now, when you get your head clear, go down and apologize to Tough
McCarty and the Angel, like a man."

The advice, which a day later would have been gratefully received,
came inopportunely for Dink's overwrought nerves. He gave an angry
answer--he did not want to be friends--he hated them all--he would
never apologize--never.

When Butsey White came with friendly offers he cut him short.

"Don't _you_ come rubbering around now," he said scornfully. "You went
back on me. You thought I was afraid. I'll do without your friendship
now."

When a calmer view had come to him he regretted what he had done. He
eliminated Tough McCarty--that was a feud of the instincts--but it
certainly had been white of the Coffee-colored Angel to offer to be
his second; Cheyenne was every inch a leader, and Butsey really had
been justified. Unfortunately, his repentance came too late; the
damage had been done. Only one thing could right him--an apology to
the assembled House; but as the courage to apologize is the last
virtue to be acquired--if it ever is acquired--Dink in his pride would
rather have chopped off his hand than admit his error. They had
misjudged him; they would have to come to him. The breach, once made,
widened rapidly--due, principally, to Dink's own morbid pride. Some of
the things he did were simply ridiculous and some were flagrantly
impudent.

He was one against eight--but one who had learned his strength, who
feared no longer the experiences he knew. He stood ready to back his
acts of belligerency with his fists against any one--except, of
course, Butsey White; for roommates do not fight unless they love one
another.

He had always in him the spirit of the rebel. To be forbid a thing,
with him, was to do it instantly. He refused all the service a
Freshman should do. At table he took a malignant delight in demanding
loudly second and third helps of the abhorrent prunes--long after he
had come to feel the