But out of that throng of students only forty-five men could be the favored ones, fifteen to each society. The confident ones were all looking to make “Bones,” though, to tell the truth, there was some inward trepidation among them.
For Skull and Bones is the great senior society at Yale, being the oldest and richest of them all. He is not a Yale man who would prefer scholarship, honors, or prizes to membership in this society, and it is supposed that the honor falls each year to the fifteen men who stand highest as scholars, athletes, or have made brilliant records in a literary and social way.
Next to “Bones” comes Scroll and Key, generally known as “Keys,” and, after “Bones,” it gets the cream of the picking. If a man does not make “Bones,” he may feel solaced and satisfied that his great ambitions have not been entirely fruitless in case he is taken into “Keys.” Indeed, the men who make the latter society seem to convince themselves that it is the one they always preferred, and they bear themselves with the air and dignity of conquerors.
And so on this third Thursday in May all the probable and possible candidates were gathered at the fence. Freshmen and sophomores stood off and looked on, for in this ceremony they had no part.
In less than one minute after the clock struck five, a solemn senior was seen threading his way through the crowd, and all knew a “Bones” man was in search of the candidate he had been sent to notify. All eyes followed him, and an anxious hush fell on the great throng.
“It’s Gunnison!” whispered somebody, as the searcher was seen looking sharply at a man.
“No, Rice!” fluttered another. “See, he’s turned away from Gunnison.”
In a moment they would know. Of a sudden, the searcher dealt a student a sharp slap on the back, sternly saying:
“It’s Gildea!” said a voice that was drowned in a great shout that goes up from the spectators.
Then came another grave senior weaving in and out through the throng, and soon another shout went up as another man was tapped sharply on the back and ordered to go to his room.
The watchers were keeping count with untold excitement and anxiety, for thus they could tell where each man went and how their own chances were growing less, in case they were juniors.