Suddenly Stover revolted, saying angrily:

"I don't want to hit you when you're down," said Le Baron quickly. "But, Dink, man alive, you're too good to go to the devil. Brace up--be a man. Get back to your own kind again."

Stover at Yale — Part 173

He said it sharply, and there was a finality about it.

Stover at Yale — Part 173

He stood without moving until he had compelled Le Baron to leave, then he set out for his room. A great anger swept over him--at himself, at the Dink Stover who had betrayed the cause, and given Le Baron the right to say what he did.

Stover at Yale — Part 173

"It isn't that," he said furiously, "it's not for breaking 'way--democracy--standing on m' own feet, no! It's a lie, all a lie. It's m' own fault--damn you, Dink Stover, you're quitter!"

He marched into his entry, his head on fire, but clear with one last resolve, and thundered on Wookey's door.

The pink pajamas flashed out as by magic. The little freshman, perceiving Stover's fierce expression, drew back in alarm.

"Go'n to help _you_ up to-night--able to do it," said Dink, the idea of assistance to another mingling in some curious way with his great resolve.

He took Wookey firmly by the arm and assisted him up the stairs. Once in his room he motioned him to a chair.

Wookey, frightened, calculating the chances to the door, huddled in the big arm-chair, his toes drawn up under him, his large eyes over the spectacles never daring to deviate from the imperious glance of Stover.

"Good. Wookey, listen to me. I'm a quitter, you understand. I've fought fight--good fight--big fight--real democracy--'n then I lost nerve. I'm wrong; I'm all wrong. I know it. Fault's with me, not what fought for. Wookey, listen to me. Le Baron's wrong, all wrong, you understand; doesn't know--realize--see."

"Yes, sir," said Wookey, in terror and complete incomprehension.

"I'm fool--big fool, but that's over, y'understand. Never give Le Baron chance say again what he did to-night. 'M going fight again--good fight. An' no one's ever going say saw me like this again, y'understand."

"Yes, sir," said the freshman weakly, terrified at the passion that showed in Stover, rocking before the mantelpiece.

The green shaded lamp was burning on the table before him.

"The last time--by God," he said, and lifting his fist he drove it through the shattering glass, reeled, and stretched insensible on the floor.