His suspicions were confirmed.

They had dragged him in with them as they all came over together from
dinner at the Commons, to tell them some more of his wild Western
tales. It was not the first time they had done it. They were a select
little group of Eastern men, two or three years out of Harvard or
Yale, in rather good repute with the faculty of the Law School for the
quality of their work, and known among their fellow students as the
Lambs, from their somewhat ostentatious habit of flocking together.

The Goat was from the West, a graduate of a prairie college of
Moravian foundation, an athletic, good-looking young fellow in
badly-fitting clothes, who appeared in no way ashamed to admit that he
had never before been east of the Mississippi, and was frankly
impressed by New York. His _gaucherie_ was not ungraceful; there was
an attractive impertinence in his cheerful assertions that his
Moravian grandparents had desired him not to smoke or drink until he
had completed his education and was earning his own living, and that,
consequently, he knew tobacco only by sight and smell, and had
contented himself with looking on the wine when it was red. There was
one vacant seat at the table, which the Lambs occupied at the Commons;
with an eye to future entertainment they had invited the Goat to join
them, and in the two months since the term began, the arrangement had
given general satisfaction.

They had undertaken the education of the Goat; they set him up to the
theater, with supper at the Black Cat or Pabst's afterward, and lay
awake nights howling at the recollection of his naive and shrewd
comments; they took him walking to show him the historical landmarks
of New York, extemporizing the landmarks and the history as they went
along, to the delighted gratitude of the Goat, who lamented that
Arizona had no associations. They egged him on to tell stories of his
prowess with lasso and lariat, of which he was boyishly proud, and
listened with flattering attention to his relations of grizzly hunts
and Greaser raids. He usually told these experiences as happening to a
friend of his, and blushed and looked sheepish when they accused him
of modesty. In return for the pleasure he afforded them, they coached
him in first-year law, and gave him pointers about the professors'
idiosyncrasies, feeling well repaid by his enthusiastic reports of his
good progress, and of the encouraging impression he was making on his
instructors.