cost's nothing at all, and the membership is absolutely necessary
to your position."

"Yes--a matter of expense." Scarborough was in control of
himself now. "But not precisely the kind of expense you mean.
No--I can't join I'd rather not explain. I'm ever so much
obliged, but really I can't."

"As you please." Pierson was offended. "But I warn you,
you've got to belong to one or the other of these fraternities or
you'll be cut off from everything. And you oughtn't to miss the
chance to join the best."

"I see I've offended you." Scarborough spoke regretfully.
"Please don't think I'm not appreciating your kindness.
But--I've made a sort of agreement with myself never to join
anything that isn't organized for a general purpose and that
won't admit anybody who has that purpose, too."

Pierson thought on this for a moment. "Pardon me for saying so,
but that's nonsense. You can't afford to stand alone. It'll
make everything harder for you--many things impossible. You've
got to yield to the prejudices of people in these matters. Why,
even the barbs have no use for each other and look up to us.
When we have an election in the Literary Society I can control
more barb votes than any one else in college. And the reason
is--well, you can imagine." (Mr. Pierson was only twenty years
old when he made that speech.)

"It doesn't disturb me to think of myself as alone." The