“I’m your man;” and Gus looked as if he knew what he promised, for he had given up smoking to oblige his father, and kept his word like a hero.

“You other fellows can do a good deal by just being kind and not twitting him with old scrapes, and I’ll do anything I can for you all to pay for this;” and Ed sat down with a beaming smile, feeling that his cause was won.

The vote was taken, and all hands went up, for even surly Joe gave in; so Bob and Tom were duly elected, and proved their gratitude for the honor done them by becoming worthy members of the club.  It was only boys’ play now, but the kind heart and pure instincts of one lad showed the others how to lend a helping hand to a comrade in danger, and win him away from temptation to the safer pastimes of their more guarded lives.

Well pleased with themselves—­for every genuine act or word, no matter how trifling it seems, leaves a sweet and strengthening influence behind—­the members settled down to the debate, which was never very long, and often only an excuse for fun of all sorts.

“Ralph, Gus, and Ed are for, and Brickbat, Grif, and Chick against, I suppose?” said Frank, surveying his company like a general preparing for battle.

“No, sir!  I believe in co-everything!” cried Chick, a mild youth, who loyally escorted a chosen damsel home from school every day.

A laugh greeted this bold declaration, and Chick sat down, red but firm.

“I’ll speak for two since the Chairman can’t, and Jack won’t go against those who pet him most to death,” said Joe, who, not being a favorite with the girls, considered them a nuisance and lost no opportunity of telling them so.

“Fire away, then, since you are up;” commanded Frank.

“Well,” began Joe, feeling too late how much he had undertaken, “I don’t know a great deal about it, and I don’t care, but I do not believe in having girls at college.  They don’t belong there, nobody wants ’em, and they’d better be at home darning their stockings.”

“Yours, too,” put in Ralph, who had heard that argument so often he was tired of it.

“Of course; that’s what girls are for.  I don’t mind ’em at school, but I’d just as soon they had a room to themselves.  We should get on better.”

“You would if Mabel wasn’t in your class and always ahead of you,” observed Ed, whose friend was a fine scholar, and he very proud of the fact.

“Look here, if you fellows keep interrupting, I won’t sit down for half an hour,” said Joe, well knowing that eloquence was not his gift, but bound to have his say out.

Deep silence reigned, for that threat quelled the most impatient member, and Joe prosed on, using all the arguments he had ever heard, and paying off several old scores by sly hits of a personal nature, as older orators often do.