Page:The plastic age, (IA plasticage00mark).pdf/143

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THE PLASTIC AGE
125


“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 did n’t tell him to go to hell. I did n’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 would n’t.” He was al¬ most 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 some¬ thing awfully mean, but I hope you won’t get mad.