Andy was “boning” on his German, with which he had had considerable difficulty. The dusk was settling down that early December day, and he was thinking of lighting a lamp to continue work on his books, when he heard a familiar step, and a whistle down the corridor. Then a voice broke into a college refrain.

“Dunk!” murmured Andy. “It sounds good to hear him, and to know that there’s not much more danger of our getting on the outs. He sure was worth saving—that is, what little I did toward it. He did the most himself, I fancy.”

“Hello, old top, hard at it?” greeted Dunk, as he entered.

“Have to be,” replied Andy. “You’ve no idea how tough this German is.”

“Oh, haven’t I? Didn’t I flunk in it the other day? And on something I ought to have known as well as I do my first reader lesson? It’s no cinch—this being at Yale. Wonder if I’ve got time to slip down town before we feed our faces?” and he began fumbling for his watch.

“What’s on?” asked Andy, rather idly.

Then, as he saw Dunk giving his shoes a hasty rub, and delving among a confused mass of ties in a drawer, Andy added:

“The witness need not answer. It’s a skirt.”

“A which?” asked Dunk in pretended ignorance.

“A lady. I didn’t know you knew any here, Dunk!”

“Huh! Think you’ve got the preserves all to yourself, eh? Well, I’ll show you that you haven’t.”

“Who is she?” asked Andy.

“Friend of a friend of mine. I think I’ll take a chance and go down just for a little while. Save some grub for me. I won’t be long. May make a date for to-night. Want to fill in?”

“If there’s room.”

“Sure, we’ll make room, and I’ll get you a girl. Some of us are going to the Hyperion. Nice little play there,” and Dunk went on “dolling up,” until he was at least partly satisfied with himself.

Dunk was about to leave when a messenger came to announce that he was wanted on the ’phone in the public booth in Dwight Hall, where the Y. M. C. A. of Yale has headquarters.

“I guess that’s her now,” said Dunk, as he hurried out. “I told her to call up,” and he rushed down the corridor.

Andy heard him call back:

“I say, old man, look out for my watch, will you? I must have left it somewhere around there.”

“The old fusser,” murmured Andy, as he rose from the easy chair. “When Dunk goes in for anything he forgets everything else. He’d leave his head if it wasn’t fastened on, or if I didn’t remind him of it,” and Andy felt quite a righteous glow as he began to look about for the valuable timepiece belonging to his roommate.

“He must have it on him,” went on Andy, as a hasty search about the room did not reveal it. “Probably he’s stuck it in his trousers’ pocket with his keys and loose change. He oughtn’t to have a good watch the way he uses it. Well, it isn’t here—that’s sure.”

Andy, a little later, turned on the electric light, but no glow followed the snapping of the button.

“Current off again—or else it’s burned out,” he murmured. A look in the hall outside showed him other lamps gleaming and he knew that his own light must be at fault.

“Guess I’ll go get another bulb,” he remarked.

When he returned with the new one he was aware that some one was in the darkened room.

“That you, Dunk?” he asked.

“No,” answered a voice he recognized as that of Ikey Stein. “I saw you going down the hall and guessed what you were after, so I took the liberty of coming in and waiting. I’ve got some real bargains.”

“Nothing doing, Ikey,” laughed Andy, as he screwed the lamp in the socket and lighted up the room. “Got all the ties I need for my whole course in Yale.”

“It isn’t ties,” said Ikey, and his voice was so serious that Andy wondered at it. “It’s handkerchiefs,” went on the student-salesman. “Andy, I’m in bad. I bought a big stock of these things, and I’ve got to sell ’em to get my money out of ’em. I thought I would have plenty of time, but I owe a bill that’s due now, and the man wants his money. So I’ve got to sell these handkerchiefs quicker than I expected. I need the cash, so I’ll let ’em go for just what I paid for ’em. I don’t care if I don’t make a cent.”

“Let’s see ’em,” suggested Andy. The talk sounded familiar. It was “bargain” patter, but an inspection of the handkerchiefs showed Andy that they were worth what was asked for them. And, as it happened, he was in need of some. He bought two dozen, and suggested to Ikey several other students in Wright Hall on whom he might call.

“Thanks,” said the salesman, as he departed after a lengthy visit in Andy’s room. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me, Blair. I’m having a hard time, and some people try to make it all the harder. They think, because I’m a Jew, that I have no feelings—that I like to be laughed at, and made to think that all I care about is money. Wait! Some day I’ll show ’em!” and his black eyes flashed.

Andy felt really sorry for him. Certainly Ikey did not work his way through college on any easy path.

“I’m only too glad to do this for you,” said the purchaser. He could not forget what a service Ikey had rendered to him and Dunk, bringing them together when they were on the verge of taking paths that might never converge.

“Well, I’ll see if I can’t find some other easy mark like you,” laughed Ikey as he went down the hall.

Andy was about to go to the “eating joint” alone when Dunk came in whistling gaily.

“Ah, ha! Methinks thou hast had a pleasant meeting!” Andy “spouted.”

“Right—Oh!” exclaimed his roommate. “It’s all right for to-night, too. I’ve got a peach for you.”

“Light or dark?” asked Andy, critically.

“Dark! Say, but you’re getting mighty particular, though, for a young fellow.”

“The same to you. Where do we meet ’em, and where do we go?”

“I’ve got it all fixed. Hyperion. Come on, let’s get through grub, I want to dress.”

He began searching hurriedly through his pockets, a puzzled look coming over his face.

“Where in the world——” he began. “Oh, I know, I left it here.”

“What?”

“My watch. I called to you about it when I went out to the telephone, and——”

“It isn’t here. I looked.”

“What!”

“Fact! Unless you stuck it in something.”

“No, I left it right on my dresser, on a pile of clean handkerchiefs—hello, where’d these come from?” and he looked at the ones Andy had bought of Ikey.

“Oh, another bargain from our mutual friend,” and Andy mentioned the price.

“That is a bargain, all right. I must get some. But look here, where’s my watch?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Did you leave it here?”

“I certainly did. I remember now, I put it on the pile of handkerchiefs just before I went to last lecture. Then I came in here, to go out to keep my date, and I didn’t have it. I was going to slip it in my pocket when I was called to the ’phone. Look here, here’s the impression of it in the handkerchiefs,” and Dunk pointed to a round depression in the pile of soft linen squares. It was just the shape of a watch.

“It was there,” said Dunk slowly, looking at Andy.

“And now it’s gone,” finished his roommate. Then he remembered several things, and his start of surprise made Dunk look at his chum in a strange way.

“What’s the matter?” asked Dunk.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” said Andy. “I want to think a bit.”