ANDY'S RESOLVE
"Come on back!"
"Don't be a quitter!"
"It's early yet!"
"The fun hasn't started!"
These cries greeted Andy as he rose to leave Burke's place. His eyes
smarted from the smoke of many pipes, and his ears rang with the echoes
of college songs. His heart ached too, as he saw Dunk in the midst of
the gay and festive throng surrounding Gaffington and his wealthy chums.
"I've got to turn in--training, you know," explained Andy with a smile.
It was the one and almost only excuse that would be accepted. Two or
three more of the athletic set dropped out with him.
"Goin', Andy?" asked Dunk, standing rather unsteadily at a table.
"Yes. Coming?" asked Andy pausing, and hoping, with all his heart, that
Dunk would come.
"Not on your life! There's too much fun here. Have a good time when
you're living, say I. You're an awful long time dead! Here you are,
waiter!" and Dunk beckoned to the man.
Andy paused a moment--and only for a moment. Then he hardened his heart
and turned to go.
"Leave the door open," Dunk called after him. "I'll be home in th'
mornin'."
And then the crowd burst out into the refrain:
"He won't be home until morning,
He won't be home until morning."
Over and over again rang the miserable chant that has bolstered up so
many a man who, otherwise, would stop before it was too late.
Andy breathed deep of the cool night air as he got outside. The streets
were quiet and deserted, save for those who had come out with him, and
who went their various ways. As Andy turned down a side street he could
still hear, coming faintly to him through the quiet night the strains
of:
"We won't go home until morning."
"Poor old Dunk!" mused Andy. "I hate to quit him, but I've got to. I'm
not going to be looking after him all the while. It's too much work.
Besides, he won't stay decent permanently."
He was angry and hurt that all his roommate's good resolutions should
thus easily be cast to the winds.
"I'm just going to quit!" exclaimed Andy fiercely. "I've done all I
could. Besides, it isn't my affair anyhow. I'll get another room--one by
myself. Oh, hang it all, anyhow!"
Moody, angry, rather dissatisfied with himself, wholly dissatisfied with
Dunk, Andy stumbled on. As he turned out of Chapel into High Street he
saw before him two men who were talking earnestly. Andy could not help
hearing what they said.
"Is the case hopeless?" one asked.
"Oh, no, I wouldn't say that."
"Yet he's promised time and again to reform, and every time he slips
back again."
"Yes, I know. He isn't the only one at the mission who does that."
Andy guessed they were church workers.
"Don't you get tired?" asked the questioner.
"Oh, yes, often. But then I get rested."
"But this chap seems such a bad case."
"They're all bad, more or less. I don't mind that."
"And you're going to try again?"
"I sure am. He's worth saving."
Andy felt as though some one had dealt him a blow. "Worth saving!" Yes,
that was it. He saw a light.
The two men passed on. Andy hesitated.
"Worth saving!"
It seemed as though some one had shouted the words at him.
"Worth saving!"
Andy's heart was beating tumultuously. His head and pulses throbbed. His
ears rang.
He stood still on the sidewalk, near the gateway beside Chittenden Hall.
His room was a little way beyond. It would be easy to go there and go to
bed, and Andy was very tired. He had played a hard game of football that
day. It was so easy to go to his room, and leave Dunk to look after
himself.
What was the use? And yet----
"He is worth saving!"
Andy struggled with himself. Again he seemed to hear that voice
whispering:
"Am I my brother's keeper?"
Andy turned resolutely away from the college buildings. He set his face
again down High Street, and swung out into Chapel.
"I'll go get him," he said, simply. "He's worth saving. Maybe I can't do
it--but--I'll try!"