“Come in!” cried Andy as a knock sounded.

“I’m not going out, I don’t care who it is!” exclaimed Dunk, fidgeting in his chair. “I’ve just got to get this confounded Greek.”

“Same here,” said Andy.

The door was pushed open and a shock of dark, curly hair was thrust in.

“Like to look at some swell neckties!” a voice asked.

“Oh, come in, you blooming old haberdasher!” cried Andy with a laugh, and Ikey Stein, with a bundle under his arm, slid in.

“Fine business!” he exclaimed. “Give me a chance to make a little money, gentlemen; I need it!”

“No more of that Japanese ‘vawse’ business!” warned Dunk. “I won’t stand for it.”

“No, these are genuine bargains,” declared the student who was working his way through college. “I’ll show you. I got ’em from a friend of mine, who’s selling out. I can make a little something on them, and you’ll get swell scarfs at less than you’d pay for them in a store.”

“Let’s see,” suggested Andy, rather glad of the diversion and of the chance to stop studying, for he had been “boning” hard. “But I don’t want any satsuma pattern, nor yet a cloisonne,” he added.

“Say, forget that,” begged Ikey. “That Jap took me in, as well as he did you fellows.”

“Well, if anybody can take you in, Ikey, he’s a good one!” laughed Dunk.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” exclaimed the merchant-student. “You can’t hurt my feelings. I’m used to it. And I’m not ashamed of my nature, either. My ancestors were all merchants, and they had to drive hard bargains to live. I don’t exactly do that, you understand, but I guess it’s in my blood. I’m not ashamed that I’m a Jew!”

“And we’re not ashamed of you, either!” cried Andy, heartily.

“Same here,” added Dunk. “Trot out your ties, Ikey.”

In spite of the fact that he sometimes insisted on the students buying things they did not really need, Ikey was a general favorite in the college.

“There’s a fine one!” he exclaimed, holding up a hideous red and green scarf. “Only a dollar—worth two.”

“Wouldn’t have it if you paid me for it!” cried Andy. “Show me something that a fellow could wear without hearing it yell a block away.”

“Oh, you want something chaste and quiet,” suggested Ikey. “I have the very thing. There!” holding it up. “That is a mere whisper!”

“It’s a pretty loud whisper,” commented Dunk, “but at that it isn’t so bad. I’ll take it, if you don’t want it, Andy.”

“You’re welcome to it. I want something in a golden brown.”

“Here you are!” exclaimed Ikey, sorting over his stock.

He succeeded in selling Andy and Dunk two scarfs each, and tried to get them to take more, but they were firm. Then the merchant-student departed to other rooms.

“It’s a queer way to get along,” commented Andy, when he had finished admiring his purchases.

“Yes, but I give him credit for it,” went on Dunk. “He meets with a lot of discouragement, and some of the fellows are positively rude to him, but he’s always the same—good-natured and willing to put up with it. He’s working hard for his education.”

“Harder than you and I,” commented Andy. “I wonder if we’d do it?”

“I’d hate to have it thrust on me. But I do give Stein credit.”

“Yes, only for that Japanese vase business.”

“Oh, well, I believe that oily Jap did put one over on him.”

“Possibly. Oh, rats! Here come some of the fellows!”

The sound of footsteps was heard in the corridor. Andy glanced at Dunk. If it should prove to be Mortimer Gaffington, who, of late had tried in vain to get Dunk to go out with him, what was to be done? Andy caught his breath sharply.

But it proved to be a needless alarm, for Bob Hunter, Ted Wilson and Thad Warburton came in with noisy greetings.

“Look at the digs!”

“Boning away on a night like this!”

“qlCome into the garden, Maud!’ Chuck that, you fellows, and let’s go downtown. What’s the matter with a picture show?”

It was Thad who asked this, but Bob, with a wry face, put his hand in his pocket and drew out seven cents.

“It doesn’t look much like a picture show for me to-night,” he said.

“Oh, I’ll stake you!” exclaimed Ted. “Come on.”

“Shall we?” asked Dunk doubtfully of Andy.

“Might as well, I guess,” was the answer. Andy was glad it had not been Gaffington, and he realized that it might be better to take this chance now of getting Dunk out, before the rich youth and his fast companions came along, as they might later in the evening. He knew that with Bob, Ted and Thad, there would be no long session at Burke’s.

“I haven’t done my Greek,” objected Dunk, hesitatingly.

“Oh, well, I’ll set the alarm clock, and we’ll get up an hour earlier in the morning and floor it,” suggested Andy.

“Burning the candle at both ends!” protested Dunk, with a sigh. “Ain’t I terrible? But lead me to it!”

As they went out of Wright Hall, Andy looked across the campus and saw Gaffington, and some of his boon companions, approaching.

“Just in time,” he murmured. When Gaffington saw Dunk in charge of his friends he and the others turned aside.

“That’s when I got ahead of him!” exulted our hero.

They spent a pleasant evening, and Andy and Dunk were back in their room at a reasonable hour.

“I declare!” exclaimed Dunk, “I feel pretty fresh yet. I think I’ll have another go at that Greek. We won’t have to get up with the chickens then.”

“I’m with you,” agreed Andy, and they did more studying than they had done in some time.

“Well, I’m through,” yawned Dunk, flinging his book on the table. “Now I’m going to hit the hay.”

The next day Dunk was complimented on his recitation.

“Oh, I tell you it pays to bone a bit!” Andy cried, clapping Dunk on the back as they came out.

“That’s right,” agreed the other.

In the days that followed Andy watched Dunk closely. And, to our hero’s delight, Gaffington seemed to be losing his influence. Several times Dunk refused to go out with him—refused good-naturedly enough, but steadfastly.

Andy tried to get Dunk interested in football, and did to a certain extent. Dunk went out to the practice, and Andy tried to get him to go into training.

“No, it’s too late,” was the answer. “Next year, maybe. But I like to see you fellows rub your noses in the dirt. Go to it, Andy!”

Link Bardon seemed to find his employment at Yale congenial. Andy met him several times and had some little talk with him. The young farmer said he hoped to get permanent employment at the college, his present position being only for a limited time.

Andy had received letters from some of his former chums at Milton. Among them were missives from Ben Snow and Chet Anderson. Chet wrote from Harvard, where he had gone, that he would see Andy at the Yale-Harvard game, while from Ben, who had gone to Princeton, came a similar message, making an appointment for a good old-fashioned talk at the annual clash of the Bulldog and Tiger.

“I’ll be glad to see them again,” said Andy.

It was about two weeks after the arrival of Link Bardon at Yale that some little disturbance was occasioned throughout the college, when an announcement was made at chapel one morning. It was from the Dean, and stated that a number of articles had been reported as missing from the rooms of various students.

“You are requested to keep your doors locked when you are out of your rooms,” the announcement concluded.

There was a buzz of excitement as the students filed out.

“What does it mean?”

“Who lost anything?”

“I have,” said one. “My new sapphire cuff buttons were swiped.”

“I lost a ring,” added another.

“And a diamond scarf pin I left on my dresser walked off—or someone walked off with it,” spoke a third.

There were several other mysterious losses mentioned.

“How did it happen?” asked Andy of a fellow student who had said a few dollars had been taken from his dresser.

“Hanged if I know,” was the answer. “I left the money in my room, and when I came back it was gone.”

“Was the room locked?”

“It sure was.”

“Did any of the monitors or janitors see anyone go in?”

“Not that I know of; but of course it could happen. There are a lot of new men working around here, anyhow.”

Andy thought of Link, and hoped that the farmer lad would not be suspected on account of being a stranger.

But as the days went on the number of mysterious thefts grew. Every dormitory in the quadrangle had been visited, but the buildings outside the hollow square seemed immune.