THE GIRLS
"Well?" asked Dunk, after a pause, during which Andy had sat staring at
the fireplace. A blaze had been kindled there, but it had died down, and
now there was only a mere flicker.
"Are you sure you left your watch on that pile of handkerchiefs?" asked
Andy, slowly.
"Dead sure. I remember it because I thought at the time that I was a
chump to treat that ticker the way I did, and I made up my mind I'd get
a good chain for it and have my watch pocket lined with chamois leather.
That's what made me think of it--the softness of the handkerchiefs. Why,
Andy, you can see the imprint of it plainly enough."
"Yes, I guess you're right."
"And it's gone."
"Right again."
"Were you in the room all the time I was out?"
"Most all the while. I went to get a new electric lamp for the one that
had burned out."
"Was anyone here besides you?"
Andy hesitated. Then he answered:
"Yes, two persons."
"Who?"
"Ikey Stein----"
"That----"
Andy held up a warning hand.
"Don't call any names," he advised. "Ikey did you and me a good service.
We mustn't forget that."
"All right, I won't. Who else was in here?"
"Link Bardon."
"Who's he?"
"That farmer lad I was telling you about--the one we fellows saved from
a beating."
"Oh, yes. I remember."
"He's working here now. He came in to borrow some money. I found him
here when I came back--our door was open."
"By Jove! That lock! I meant to get it fixed. Well, I can see what
happened. The quadrangle mystery deepens, and I'm elected. The beggar
got my watch!" Dunk started out.
"Where are you going?" asked Andy.
"To telephone for a locksmith. I'm going to have our door fixed. Don't
laugh--the old saying--'lock the stable after the horse is stolen.' I
know it."
"Wait a minute," suggested Andy. "While you're at it hadn't you better
give notice of the robbery?"
"I suppose so. But what good will it do? None of the fellows have gotten
back anything that's been taken. But I sure am sorry to lose that
watch."
"So am I," spoke Andy. "Look here, Dunk, there are two persons who might
have taken it--no, three."
"How three?"
"Counting me."
"Oh, piffle. But I suppose if I made a row it would look bad for Ikey
and your friend Link."
"It sure would. I think maybe you'd better not make a row."
"You mean sit down and let 'em walk off with my watch without saying a
word?"
"Oh, no. Report the loss, of course. But don't mention any names."
"Well, I wouldn't like to mention Ikey--for the honor of Yale, and all
that, you know."
"I agree with you. And, for certain reasons, I wouldn't like you to
mention Link. I don't know about him, but I believe he's as honest as
can be. Of course he was in need of money, and if your watch lay in
plain sight there'd be a big temptation. But I'd hate to think it."
"So would I, after what you've told me about him. I won't think it,
until, at least, we get more information. It was my fault for leaving
it around that way. It's too bad! Dad will sure be sorry to hear it's
gone. I'm going to keep mum about it--maybe it will turn up."
"I hope so," returned Andy. "I hardly believe Link would take it, yet
you never can tell."
"Anyhow, we'll get a new lock put on, and I'll report my watch," said
Dunk. "Then we'll forget all about it and have some fun. Come on, I'm
hungry. It isn't so much the money value of the thing, as the
associations. Hang it all--what a queer world this is. Oh, but you
should see the girls, Andy!"
"I'm counting on it!"
When they came back, after a hasty session at the "eating joint," there
was a note for each of them tucked under the door, which they had
managed to lock pending the attaching of the new mechanism.
"From Gaffington," announced Dunk, ripping his open. "He's giving a
blow-out to-night. Wants me to come."
"Same here," announced Andy, reading his, and then glancing anxiously at
his roommate.
"I'm not going," said Dunk, wadding up the missive and tossing it into
the waste-paper basket.
"Neither am I," said Andy, doing the same.
They began to "doll up," which, being interpreted, means to attire
oneself in one's best raiment, including the newest tie, the stiffest
collar and the most uncomfortable shirt, to say nothing of patent
leather shoes a size too small.
"Whew!" panted Andy, as he adjusted his scarf for the fourth or fifth
time, "these bargains of Ikey's aren't what they're cracked up to be."
"I should say not. I don't believe they're real silk."
"Maybe not. They say the Japs can make something that looks like it, but
which isn't any more silk than a shoestring."
"I believe you. Maybe Ikey has been dabbling in some more of Hashmi's
stuff."
"I wouldn't wonder. Say, it's a queer way for a fellow to get through
college, isn't it?"
"It sure is. Yet he's a decent sort of chap. Only for that affair of the
vases."
"Oh, he made restitution in that case."
They went on dressing, with hurried glances at the clock now and then to
make sure they would not be late. From out in the raised court came a
hail:
"Oh, you, Dunk!"
"Stick out your noddle, Blair!"
"Come on down!"
"That's Thad and his crowd," announced Andy.
"Let 'em holler," advised Dunk. "I'm not going with them."
"Oh, you Dunk!"
"Go on away!" called Dunk, shouting out of the window.
"Oh, for the love of mush!"
"Look at him!"
"Girls, all right!"
"Come on up and rough-house 'em!"
These cries greeted the appearance out of the window of the upper part
of Dunk's body, attired in a gaudy waistcoat.
"Is that door locked, Andy?" gasped Dunk, hurriedly pulling in his head.
"Yes."
"Slip the bolt then. They'll make no end of a row if they get in!"
Andy slipped it, and only in time, for there came a rush of bodies
against the portal, and insistent demands from Thad and his crowd to be
admitted. Failing in that they besought Andy and Dunk to come out.
"Nothing doing! We've got dates!" announced Andy, and this was accepted
as final.
They were just about to leave, quiet having been restored, when there
came a knock.
"Who is it?" asked Dunk, suspiciously.
"Gaffington," was the unexpected answer. "Are you fellows coming to my
blow-out."
Dunk looked at Andy and paused. Following the affair in Burke's, where
Gaffington had incited Dunk against Andy, the rich youth from Andy's
town had had little to say to him. He seemed to take it for granted that
his condition that night was enough of an apology without any other, and
treated Andy exactly as though nothing had occurred.
"Well?" asked Gaffington, impatiently.
"Sorry, old man," said Dunk, "but we both have previous engagements."
"Oh, indeed!" sneered Mortimer, and they could hear him muttering to
himself as he walked away.
Then the two chums sallied forth. On the way Dunk reported the loss of
his watch, to the discomfiture of the Dean, who seemed much disturbed by
the successive robberies.
"Something must be done!" he exclaimed, pacing up and down the room.
Dunk also left word at the college maintenance office about the door
that would not lock, and got the promise that it would be seen to.
"And now for the girls!" exclaimed Andy. "Do I know them?"
"No, but you soon will."
Andy was much pleased with the two young ladies to whom Dunk introduced
him later. It appeared that one was a distant relative of Dunk's mother,
and the two were visiting friends in New Haven. Dunk's "cousin," as he
called her, had sent him a card, asking him to call, and he had made
arrangements to bring Andy and spend the evening at the theatre.
Thither they went, happy and laughing, and to the no small envy of a
number of college lads, the said lads making unmistakable signals to
Dunk and Andy, between the acts, that they wanted to be introduced
later.
But Andy and Dunk ignored their chums.