United States or Slovenia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Andy wondered somewhat at Mortimer's application, particularly as it was snowing at the time. This enabled Andy to come close up behind Gaffington without the latter being aware of it, and, looking over the shoulder of the youth, Andy saw on the fly-leaf of the volume a peculiar ink blot. At once a flash of recollection came to Andy. Well did he know that ink blot, for he had made it himself.
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."
Make yourself at home he may be in soon." In spite of his dislike of Gaffington, and his fear lest he influence Dunk for evil, Andy could do no less than play the part of host. "Thanks, I will stay for a while," answered Mortimer. "Been looking for thieves again?" he asked, noting the bat in Andy's hand.
"It's about that fellow Gaffington. Andy's sorry he had a run-in with him, and I don't blame Andy. He had trouble before, and this will only add to it. And that Gaffington is just mean enough, and small-spirited enough, to make trouble for Andy down there at Yale. He's a sport but one of the tin-horn brand. I don't blame Andy for wishing it had been someone else."
"So Gaffington is going to give another spread, eh?" he mused. "That's queer on top of the news mother sends in her letter. What did I do with it?" He found it after looking through a mass of papers in his pockets, and read it again. Following its receipt at the college branch postoffice Andy had imparted the news to Dunk.
But talk about the worst, I can't see it. I wish I were in your rubbers." "And that dub Mortimer Gaffington is there, too," went on Andy. "That's the worst." "I don't quite get you," said Harry, in puzzled tones. "Is this Gaffington one of the bulldog profs. who eats freshmen alive?" "No, he's a fellow from our town," explained Andy, "and he and I are on the outs. We've been so for a long time.
With shovel, tongs and poker held in readiness, they advanced. The door of the big closet was closed, and, just as Andy was about to put his hand on the knob, the portal swung open, and out stepped Mortimer Gaffington. "Why er why you you !" stammered Andy. "Did you have you ?" This was what Dunk tried to say. "Is he in there?" Frank wanted to know. Mortimer looked coolly at the three.
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.
"They're marked with our initials," he said, and his voice was sad, rather than triumphant. "We left them there to see if you'd take them." The production of the bills took all the fight out of Mortimer Gaffington. He ceased his struggling and sank limply into a chair which Dunk pushed forward for him. There followed a moment of silence a silence that neither Andy or Dunk ever forgot.
"Rough house on the freshmen!" One of the sophomores pushed Bob and Ted over on Andy's bed, together. Then Gaffington pulled from his pocket a handful of finely chopped paper of various colors "confetti" and scattered it in a shower over everyone and everything. "Snow, snow! beautiful snow!" he declaimed. "Shiver, freshmen!" A momentary pause ensued.
Word Of The Day