It was said that in the old days the Yale junior or senior knew everybody worth knowing.  But this had changed.  The blue-blooded aristocrat had appeared at Yale, and he had chosen his circle of acquaintances with great care.  To all outward appearances, this man believed that outside his limited circle there was nobody at Yale worth knowing.

Professor Scotch, Frank’s guardian, had read this in certain newspaper articles relating to Yale, and had expressed his regret that such should be the case.

After coming to Yale Frank kept his eyes open to see to what extent such a state of affairs obtained.  At first it had seemed that the newspapers were right, but he came to see that his position as freshman did not give him the proper opportunity to judge.

In the course of time Frank came to believe that the old spirit was still powerful at Yale.  There were a limited number of young gentlemen who plainly considered themselves superior beings, and who positively refused to make acquaintances outside a certain limit; but those men held no positions in athletics, were seldom of prominence in the societies, and were regarded as cads by the men most worth knowing.  They were to be pitied, not envied.

At Yale the old democratic spirit still prevailed.  The young men were drawn from different social conditions, and in their homes they kept to their own set; but they seemed to leave this aside, and they mingled and submerged their natural differences under that one broad generalization, “the Yale man.”

And Merriwell was to find that this extended even to their social life, their dances, their secret societies, where all who showed themselves to have the proper dispositions and qualifications were admitted without distinction of previous condition or rank in their own homes.

Each class associated with itself, it is true, the members making no close friendships with members of other classes, with the possible exception of the juniors and seniors, where class feeling did not seem to run so high.  A man might know men of other classes, but he never took them for chums.

The democratic spirit at Yale came mainly from athletics, as Frank soon discovered.  Every class had half a dozen teams—­tennis, baseball, football, the crew and so on.  Everybody, even the “greasy” grinds, seemed interested in the something, and so one or more of these organization had some sort of a claim on everybody.

Besides this, there was the general work in the gymnasium, almost every member of every class appearing there at some time or other, taking exercise as a pastime or a necessity.

The ’Varsity athletic organization drew men from every class, not excepting the professional and graduate schools, and, counting the trials and everything, brought together hundreds of men.

In athletics strength and skill win, regardless of money or family; so it happened that the poorest man in the university stood a show of becoming the lion and idol of the whole body of young men.