t the mantel. He ran his fingers
through his hair until it stood grotesquely on end. "Oh, that's the old
argument. I've heard it debated in a hundred bull sessions. One fellow
says it's all wrong, and another fellow says it's all right, and you
never get anywhere. I want somebody to tell me what's wrong about it and
what's right. God knows you don't find out in your classes. They have
Doc Conners give those smut talks to us in our freshman year, and a
devil of a lot of good they do. A bunch of fellows faint and have to be
lugged out, and the Doc gives you some sickening details about venereal
diseases, and that's as far as you get. Now, I'm all messed up about
this sex business, and I'll admit that I'm thinking about it all the
time, too. Some fellows say it's all right to have a woman, and some
fellows say it's all wrong, but I notice none of them have any use for a
woman who isn't straight."

All of the boys were sitting in easy-chairs except Donald Ferguson, who
was lying on the couch and listening in silence. He was a handsome youth
with Scotch blue eyes and sandy hair. Women were instantly attracted by
his good looks, splendid physique, slow smile, and quiet drawl.

He spoke for the first time. "The old single-standard fight," he said,
propping his head on his hand. "I don't see any sense in scrapping about
that any more. We've got a single standard now. The girls go just as
fast as the fellows."

"Oh, that's not so," Hugh exclaimed. "Girls don't go as far as fellows."

Ferguson smiled pleasantly at Hugh and drawled; "Shut up, innocent; you
don't know anything about it. I tell you the old double standard has
gone all to hell."

"You're exaggerating, Don, just to get Hugh excited," Ross said in his
quiet way. "There are plenty of decent girls. Just because a lot of them
pet on all occasions isn't any reason to say that they aren't straight.
I'm older than you fellows, and I guess I've had a lot more experience
than most of you. I've had to make my own way since I was a kid, and
I've bumped up against a lot of rough customers. I worked in a lumber
camp for a year, and after you've been with a gang like that for a
while, you'll understand the difference between them and college
fellows. Those boys are bad eggs. They just haven't any morals, that's
all. They turn into beasts every pay night; and bad as some of our
college parties are, they aren't a circumstance to a lumber town on pay
night."

"That's no argumen