CHAPTER VI
ON THE CAMPUS
Joe Matson gazed about him curiously as the train drew into the NewHaven station. He wondered what his first taste of Yale life was goingto be like, and he could not repress a feeling of nervousness.
He had ridden in the end car, and he was not prepared for what happenedas the train drew to a slow stop. For from the other coaches therepoured a crowd of students--many Freshmen like himself but othersevidently Sophomores, and a sprinkling of Juniors and the more lordlySeniors. Instantly the place resounded to a din, as friends met friends,and as old acquaintances were renewed.
"Hello, Slab!"
"Where have you been keeping yourself, Pork Chops!"
"By jinks! There's old Ham Fat!"
"Come on, now! Get in line!"
This from one tall lad to others, evidently from the same preparatoryschool. "Show 'em what we can do!"
"Hi there, Freshies! Off with those hats!"
This from a crowd of Sophomores who saw the newly-arrived first-yearlads.
"Don't you do it! Keep your lids on!"
"Oh, you will!" and there was a scrimmage in which the offendingheadgear of many was sent spinning. Joe began to breathe deeply andfast. If this was a taste of Yale life he liked it. Somewhat ExcelsiorHall it was, but bigger--broader.
Gripping his valise, he climbed down the steps, stumbling in hiseagerness. On all sides men crowded around him and the others who werealighting.
"Keb! Carriage! Hack! Take your baggage!"
Seeing others doing the same, Joe surrendered his valise to an insistentman. As he moved out of the press, wondering how he was to get to thehouse where he had secured a room, he heard someone behind him fairlyyell in his ear:
"Oh ho! Fresh.! Off with that hat!"
He turned to see two tall, well-dressed lads, in somewhat "swagger"clothes, arms linked, walking close behind him. Remembering the fate ofthe others, Joe doffed his new derby, and smiled.
"That's right," complimented the taller of the two Sophomores.
"Glad you think so," answered Joe.
"Well?" snapped the other Sophomore sharply.
"Glad you think so," repeated our hero.
"Well?" rasped out the first.
Joe looked from one to the other in some bewilderment. He knew there wassome catch, and that he had not answered categorically, but for themoment he forgot.
"Put the handle on," he was reminded, and then it came to him.
"Sir," he added with a smile.
"Right, Freshie. Don't forget your manners next time," and the two wentswinging along, rolling out the chorus of some class song.
The confusion increased. More students poured from the train,overwhelming the expressmen with their demands and commands. The hacksand carriages were being rapidly filled. Orders were being shouted backand forth. Exuberance was on every side.
"Oh ho! This way, Merton!" yelled someone, evidently a signal for thelads from that school to assemble.
"Over here, Lisle!"
"There's Perk!"
"Yes, and who's he got with him?"
"Oh, some Fresh. Come on, you goat. I'm hungry!"
Joe felt himself exulting, after all, that he was to be a part of thisthrobbing, pulsating life--part of the great college. He hung back,friendless and alone, and it was borne on him with a rush just howfriendless and alone he was when he saw so many others greeted byfriends and mates. With all his heart Joe wished he had come up fromsome preparatory school, where he would have had classmates with him.But it was too late now.
He made up his mind that he would walk to his rooming house, not becausehe wanted to save the carriage hire, but he would have to get in a hackall alone, and he was afraid of the gibes and taunts that might behurled at the lone Freshman. He had engaged the room in advance, andknew it would be in readiness. Later he intended to join one of the manyeating clubs for his meals, but for the present he expected to patronizea restaurant, for the rooming house did not provide commons.
"I'll walk," decided Joe, and, inquiring the way from a friendlyhackman, he started off. As he did so he was aware of a tall ladstanding near him, and, at the mention of the street Joe designated,this lad started, and seemed about to speak.
For a moment Joe, noticing that he, too, was alone, was tempted toaddress him. And then, being naturally diffident, and in this caseparticularly so, he held back.
"He may be some stand-offish chap," reasoned Joe, "and won't like it.I'll go a bit slow."
He swung away from the station, glad to be out of the turmoil, but for atime it followed him, the streets being filled with students afoot andin vehicles. The calling back and forth went on, until, following thedirections he had received, Joe turned down a quieter thoroughfare.
"That must be the college over there," he said after he had swung acrossthe city common, and saw looming up in the half mist of the earlySeptember night, the piles of brick and stone. "Yale College--and I'mgoing there!"
He paused for a moment to contemplate the structures, and a wave ofsentimental feeling surged up into his heart. He saw the outlines of theelms--the great elms of Yale.
Joe passed on, and, as he walked, wondering what lay before him, hecould not help but think of the chances--the very small chances hehad--in all that throng of young men--to make the 'varsity nine.
"There are thousands of fellows here," mused Joe, "and all of them maybe as good as I. Of course not all of them want to get on the nine--andfewer want to pitch. But--Oh, I wonder if I can make it? I wonder----"
It was getting late. He realized that he had better go to his room, andsee about supper. Then in the morning would come reporting at collegeand arranging about his lectures--and the hundred and one things thatwould follow.
"I guess I've got time enough to go over and take a look at the place,"he mused. "I can hike it a little faster to my shack after I take apeep," he reasoned. "I just want to see what I'm going to stack upagainst."
He turned and started toward the stately buildings in the midst of theprotecting elms. Other students passed him, talking and laughing, gibingone another. All of them in groups--not one alone as was Joe.Occasionally they called to him as they passed:
"Off with that hat, Fresh.!"
He obeyed without speaking, and all the while the loneliness in hisheart was growing, until it seemed to rise up like some hard lump andchoke him.
"But I won't! I won't!" he told himself desperately. "I won't give in.I'll make friends soon! Oh, if only Tom were here!"
He found himself on the college campus. Pausing for a moment to lookabout him, his heart welling, he heard someone coming from the rear.Instinctively he turned, and in the growing dusk he thought he saw afamiliar figure.
"Off with that hat, Fresh.!" came the sharp command.
Joe was getting a little tired of it, but he realized that the onlything to do was to obey.
"All right," he said, listlessly.
"All right, what?" was snapped back at him.
For a moment Joe did not answer.
"Come on, Fresh.!" cried the other, taking a step toward him."Quick--all right--what?"
"Sir!" ripped out Joe, as he turned away.
A moment later from a distant window there shone a single gleam of lightthat fell on the face of the other lad. Joe started as he beheld thecountenance of Ford Weston--the youth who had laughed at his pitching.
"That's right," came in more mollified tones from the Sophomore. "Don'tforget your manners at Yale, Fresh.! Or you may be taught 'em in a wayyou won't like," and with an easy air of assurance, and an insulting,domineering swagger, Weston took himself off across the campus.