JEALOUSIES
"Well, how did you like 'em?" demanded Dunk.
"Do you mean both--or one?" asked Andy.
"Huh, you ought to know what I mean?"
"Or--_who_, I suppose," and Andy smiled.
He and his chum had come back to their room after taking home the girls
with whom they had spent the evening at the theatre. There had followed
a little supper, and the affair ended most enjoyably. That is, it seemed
to, but there was an undernote of irritation in Dunk's voice and he
regarded Andy with rather a strange look as they sat in the room
preparatory to going to bed.
"What did you and she find to talk about so much?" asked Dunk,
suspiciously. "I brought Kittie Martin around for you."
"So I imagined."
"Yet nearly all the time you kept talking to Alice Jordan. Didn't you
like Miss Martin?"
"Sure. She's a fine girl. But Miss Jordan and I found we knew the same
people back home, where I come from, and naturally she wanted to hear
about them."
"Huh! Well, the next time I get you a girl I'll make sure the one I
bring along doesn't come from the same part of the country you do."
"Why?" asked Andy, innocently enough.
"Why? Good land, man! Do you think I want the girl I pick out
monopolized by you?"
"I didn't monopolize her."
"It was the next thing to it."
"Look here, Dunk, you're not mad, are you?"
"No, you old pickle; but I'm the next thing to it."
"Why, I couldn't help it, Dunk. She talked to me."
"Bah! The same old story that Adam rung the changes on when Eve handed
him the apple. Oh, forget it! I suppose I oughtn't to have mentioned it,
but when I was all primed for a nice cozy talk to have you butting in
every now and then with something about the girls and boys back in
Oshkosh----"
"It was Dunmore," interrupted Andy.
"Well, Dunmore then. It's the same thing. I'll do--more to you if you do
it again."
"I tell you she kept asking me questions, and what could I do but
answer," replied Andy.
"You might have changed the subject. Kittie didn't like it for a cent."
"She didn't?"
"No. I saw her looking at you and Alice in a queer way several times."
"She did?"
"She did. So did Katy!" mocked Dunk, and his voice was rather snappish.
"Well, I didn't intend anything," said Andy. "Gee, but when I try to do
the polite thing I get in Dutch, as the saying is. I guess I wasn't cut
out for a lady's man."
"Oh, you're all right," Dunk assured his chum, "only you want to hunt on
your own grounds. Keep off my preserves."
"All right, I will after this. Just give me the high sign when you see
me transgressing again."
"There isn't likely to be any 'again,' Andy. They're going home
to-morrow."
"I've got her address, anyhow," laughed Andy.
"Whose?" asked Dunk, suspiciously.
"Kittie Martin's. She's the one you picked out for me; isn't she?"
"Yes, and I wish you'd stick to her!" and with this Dunk tumbled into
bed and did not talk further. Andy put out the light with a thoughtful
air, and did not try to carry on the conversation. It was as near to a
quarrel as the roommates had come since the affair of Burke's.
But matters were smoothed over, at least for a time, when, next day,
came notes from the girls saying they had decided to prolong their visit
in New Haven.
"Good!" cried Dunk. "We can take them out some more."
And this time Andy was careful not to pay too much attention to Miss
Alice Jordan, though, truth to tell, he liked her better than he did
Kittie Martin. And it is betraying no secret to confess that Alice
seemed to like Andy very much.
The boys hired a carriage and took the girls for a drive one day, going
to the beautiful hill country west of the new Yale Field.
As they were going slowly along they met a taxicab coming in the
opposite direction. When it drew near Andy was somewhat surprised to
find it contained Miss Mazie Fuller, the actress. She laughed and bowed,
waving her hand to Andy.
"Who was that?" asked Dunk, who had been too busy talking to Alice to
notice the occupant of the taxi.
"Miss Fuller," answered Andy.
"Oh, your little actress. Yes."
Andy blushed and Miss Martin, who sat beside the youth, rather drew
away, while Alice gave him a queer, quick look.
"An actress?" murmured Miss Martin. "She looks young--a mere girl."
"That's all she is," said Andy, eagerly. Too eagerly, in fact. He rather
overdid it.
"Tell 'em how you saved her life," suggested Dunk, laughing.
"Forget it," returned Andy, with another blush. "I'm tired of being a
hero."
"Oh, I heard about that," said Miss Jordan. "There was something in the
papers about it. She's real pretty, isn't she?" and again she looked
queerly at Andy.
"Oh, yes," he admitted, taking warning now. "Say, tell me, shall we go
over that cross road?"
"To change the subject," observed Miss Martin, with a little laugh, and
a sidewise glance at Andy.
He was beginning to find that jealousy was not alone confined to Dunk.
The ride came to an end at last and Andy wondered just how he stood with
Dunk and the girls.
"Hang it all!" he mused, "I seem to get in Dutch all along the line."
The girls left New Haven, having been given a little farewell supper by
Dunk and Andy. The two boys had hard work to resist the many
self-invited guests among their chums.
Several days later there came some letters to Dunk and Andy. One, to the
latter, was from Miss Fuller, the actress, telling Andy that she
expected to be in New Haven again, and asking Andy to call on her.
"You are going it!" said Dunk, when Andy told of this missive, and also
mentioned receiving one from Miss Martin, thanking him for the
entertainment he and Dunk had given to her and her chum. "You sure are
going it, Andy! Two strings to your bow, all right."
"Never you mind me," retorted Andy. "I'm not on your side of the fence
_this_ time."
There was the sound of running feet in the corridor, and someone rushed
past the room, the door of which was open.
"Did you see anyone pass?" cried Frank Carr, who roomed a few apartments
away from Andy and Dunk. "Did someone run past here just now?"
"We didn't see nor hear anyone," answered Dunk. "Why?"
"Because just as I was coming upstairs I saw someone run out of my room.
I thought of the quadrangle robberies at once, and took a look in. One
of my books, and the silver vase I won in the tennis match, were gone.
The thief came down this way!"