CHAPTER XXXIII

THE TRAP

Joyous was the crowd of Yale players as they trooped off the field. The

freshmen had opened their season well by defeating Princeton, and the

wearers of the orange and black gave their victors a hearty cheer, which

was repaid in kind.

"It's good to be on the winning side," exulted Andy, as he walked along

with Dunk.

"It sure is, old man."

Someone touched Andy on the shoulder. He looked around to see Ikey

holding out a package. One in the other hand was offered to Dunk.

"The socks," spoke the student salesman, simply.

"Say, give us time to get into our clothes!" demanded Andy. "Do you

think we carry cash in our uniforms?"

"I didn't want you to forget," said Ikey, with a grin. "There is another

fellow taking up my business now, and I've got to hustle if I want the

trade. Going to your room?"

"Sure."

"I'll go on ahead and wait for you," said Ikey. "I need the money."

"Say, you're the limit! You're as bad as a sheriff with an attachment,"

complained Dunk. But he could not help laughing at the other's

persistence.

Andy and Dunk were a little late getting back to Wright Hill, and when

they entered their room they found a note on the table. It was from

Ikey, and read:

"I found your door open, and waited a while, but I just heard of a

bargain lot of suspenders I can buy, so I went off to see about them. I

will be back with the socks in a little while."

"He found our door open!" exclaimed Dunk. "Didn't we lock it?"

"We sure did!" declared Andy. "I wonder----" He paused, and looked at

his chum wonderingly. Then they both began a hasty search among their

possessions. The same thought had come to each.

"Did you have my amethyst cuff buttons?" asked Andy of Dunk, who was

rummaging among his effects.

"I did not. Why?"

"They're gone!"

"Another robbery! Say, we've got to report this right away, and let

Link's lawyer know!" Dunk cried. "This may clear him!"

They paused, trying to map out a line of procedure, when a messenger

came in to say that either Dunk or Andy was wanted on the telephone in a

hurry.

"You go," suggested Andy. "As long as either of us will answer I'll stay

here and take another look for my buttons. But I'm sure I left them in

my collar box, and they aren't there now."

Dunk hurried off, while Andy conducted a careful but ineffectual search.

"It was Link's lawyer," Dunk reported when he came back. "His case comes

up to-morrow, and he wants to know if we have any evidence that will

help to prove Link innocent."

"Not an awful lot," said Andy, ruefully, "unless this latest robbery is.

We'd better go see that lawyer. Did he say anything about the mysterious

hundred dollars Link got by mail?"

"He mentioned it. There's no explanation of it yet, and he says it will

look queer if it comes out, and if that's the only explanation Link can

give."

"Why need it come out?"

"Oh, it seems that Link showed the bills to several helpers around

college, and some of them have been subpoenaed to testify. The detective

will be sure to bring it out. Then there's that story about the book

found in Link's room."

"Hello!--" exclaimed Andy, looking around the apartment in order to

collect his thoughts. "There's another note someone left for us. It must

have been knocked off the table." He picked it up off the floor. It was

addressed to him, and proved to be from Charley Taylor. It read:

"DEAR ANDY. I watched you play to-day. You did well. I've got a

peach of a mushroom bat that I don't want, for I'm going in for

rowing instead of baseball this season. I left the bat in the

storeroom on your corridor when I moved out of Wright Hall. You can

have it if you like. I gave it to Mortimer Gaffington once, but he

said he never could find it. I don't believe he cared much about

it, anyhow. Take it and good luck."

"By jinks!" cried Andy, as he read the missive and passed it to Dunk.

"Do you remember that time Mortimer was hunting for Charley's bat in the

closet?"

"I should say I did! That was the time we were looking for the thief who

took Frank Carr's silver cup and his book."

"Sure. Well, I'm just going to have a look for that bat now. Maybe I'll

have better luck than Mortimer did."

"Go ahead. I'll stay here in case Ikey comes in with the socks. No use

having him bother us. Might as well pay him so he'll quit running in."

"Sure. Well, I'm going to rummage for the bat," and Andy, thinking of

many things, went down the corridor to the large closet that was used as

a store room by the students.

It was more filled than before with many things, and Andy had some

difficulty in locating the bat. Finally he found it away down in a

corner, under an old football suit, and drew it out. As he did so

something fell to the closet floor with a clang of metal.

"I wonder what that was?" mused Andy. "It sounded like----" He did not

finish the thought, but made his way to the far end of the closet. It

was dark there, but, groping around, his fingers touched something hard,

round, smooth and cold. With trembling hand Andy drew it out, and when

the single electric light in the center of the storeroom fell upon it

Andy uttered a cry of surprise.

"Frank's silver cup!" he cried. "The thief hid it in there! I wonder if

the book's here, too?"

He made a hasty but unsuccessful search and then, with the bat and cup,

he hurried to the room where Dunk awaited him.

"What's up?" demanded Dunk, as Andy fairly burst into the room.

"Lots! Look here!"

"Frank Carr's silver cup! Where'd you get it?"

"In the closet where Mortimer Gaffington hid it!"

"Mortimer Gaffington?" gasped Dunk. "You mean----"

"I mean that I'm sure now of what I've suspected for some time--that

Mortimer is the quadrangle thief!"

"You don't say so! How do you figure it out?"

"Just think and you'll see it for yourself," went on Andy. "When we had

the chase after the thief down this corridor that time, the trail seemed

to lead right to this closet, didn't it?"

"Sure," agreed Dunk.

"And who did we find in there?"

"Why, Mort, of course. But he said he was looking for Charley Taylor's

bat."

"Well, he may have been, but that was only an excuse. Mortimer didn't

want that bat, but he was almost caught and he did want a place to hide

the stuff. The book he could slip in his pocket, but he couldn't do that

with the cup. So he threw it back in a corner, and it's been there ever

since. Probably he was afraid to come for it."

"Andy, I believe you're right!" cried Dunk. "But one thing more--did you

find a pair of rubber shoes? You know Frank said the fellow that went

out of his room in such a hurry wore rubber shoes."

"I forgot about that. I'll have another look."

"I'll go with you. Ikey was here and I paid him for your socks and mine.

So we can lock up."

"And be sure you do lock," warned Andy. "I don't want to lose any more

stuff. Say, Mortimer must have my sleeve links, all right."

"All wrong, you mean. And my watch, too! I wonder if we're on the verge

of a discovery?"

"It looks so," said Andy, grimly.

Quickly and silently they went to the storeroom. They were not

disturbed, for there were several class dinners on that night, and most

of the occupants of Wright Hall were out. Andy and Dunk intended going

later.

They rummaged in the closet and, when about to give up, not having found

what they sought, Andy unearthed a pair of rubbers.

"These might be what the fellow wore," said Dunk, as he looked at them.

"He could easily have slipped them off. See if there are any marks

inside."

Andy looked and uttered a startled cry. For there, on the inner canvas

of the rubber, printed in ink, were the initials "M. G."

"They're his, all right!" spoke Andy, in a low tone.

"Then he's the quadrangle thief," went on Dunk. "Come on back to our

room, and we'll talk this over. Something's has got to be done."

"That's right," agreed Andy. "But what?"

"We must set a trap," suggested Dunk.

"A trap?"

"Yes, do something to catch this mean thief--Mortimer or whoever he

is--in the act."

"Hadn't we better tell the Dean--or someone."

"No," said Dunk, after thinking over the matter. "Let's see if we can't

do this on our own hook. Then if we make a mistake we won't be laughed

at."

"But when can we do it?" Andy asked.

"This very night. It couldn't happen better. Nearly all the fellows will

be out of Wright Hall in a little while. We're booked to go, and

Mortimer knows it, for I was making arrangements with Bert Foley about

our seats, and Mortimer was standing near me. He came to borrow ten

dollars, but I didn't let him have it. So he will be sure to figure that

we'll be out to-night."

"But how do you know he'll come to our room?"

"I don't know it. I've got to take a chance there. But we can hide down

in the lower corridor, and watch to see if he comes in this dormitory.

If he does, knowing that 'most all the fellows are out, it will look

suspicious. We can watch for him to go out and then tackle him. If he

has the goods on him the jig is up."

"Well, I guess that is a good plan," agreed Andy. "I hate to have to do

it, but we owe it to ourselves, to the college and to poor Link to

discover this thief. I only hope it doesn't prove to be Mortimer, but it

looks very bad for him."

"We can go farther than that," went on Dunk. "We can leave some marked

money on our table, leave our door open and see what happens."

"It sounds sort of mean," spoke Andy, doubtfully; "but I suppose if we

have to have a trap that would be the best way to do it."

"Then let's get busy," suggested Dunk. "He may not come to-night after

all. We may have to watch for several nights. Meanwhile we'd better

telephone the lawyer that we're on a new lead."

This was done, and the man in charge of Link's case agreed to see Andy

and Dunk early the next day to learn what success they had.

Then the trap was laid. The two who were doing this, not so much to

prove Mortimer guilty as to free Link and others upon whom suspicion had

fallen, went about their work.

As Dunk had surmised, Wright Hall was almost deserted. They found a

hiding place in the lower corridor where they could see whoever came in.

Their own door they left ajar, with a light burning. On the table where

they had been put, as if dropped by accident, were a couple of marked

bills.

"If he takes those, we'll have him with the goods," said Dunk, grimly.

Then he and Andy began their vigil.

Andy at Yale Or, The Great Quadrangle Mystery · 第 33 / 35 章