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It was seen that he could not possibly get under it, but he might field it home in time to save a score. The runner, going wildly, looked to get a signal from the coach. He received it, in a hasty gesture, telling him to stay at third. He stayed, panting from his speed, while the Princeton lads kept up their cheering. "Now will you feed us some more of those hot cross buns?" cried a wag to Dunk.
"Well, we'll leave this junk in your room, Andy, and then go out and have some fun," suggested Thad. They piled their purchases on the beds in Andy's and Dunk's room in Wright Hall and then proceeded on to Burke's place, an eating and drinking resort for many students. There was a crowd there when Andy and his chums entered and they were noisily greeted. "Oh, you Dunk!" "Over here! Lots of room!"
"Well, that's a matter of opinion," said Mortimer, and there was anger in his voice. "Of course, though, if he's your friend you do right to stick up for him." "Yes," agreed Andy, "he is my friend. And it's at a time like this that he needs friends." "Oh, well," said Mortimer, with a shrug of his shoulders, "let's forget it. I wonder what's keeping Dunk?"
Men armed with spears surround and exterminate a shoal detected in shallow water; and the boomerang and the nulla-nulla as well as the spear form the weapons of the solitary fisherman. Though the wommera, or, as it is known locally, the yellamun, is common in the neighbourhood of Dunk Island, it is not employed as an accessory in the spearing of fish.
Boys who could take rough handling such as this, without losing their tempers or even offering any objection, surely must be worth while. Then, too, there was the story about Tad and Ned having captured the desperado, Dunk Tucker, who was now well on his way to the calaboose in El Paso. "I reckon you kin go back and dry off now," drawled Dippy. "Anything else you cayuses reckon you want?"
Here you are, waiter!" and Dunk beckoned to the man. Andy paused a moment and only for a moment. Then he hardened his heart and turned to go. "Leave the door open," Dunk called after him. "I'll be home in th' mornin'." And then the crowd burst out into the refrain: "He won't be home until morning, He won't be home until morning."
In the early days less than a couple of decades past they swarmed on the mainland opposite Dunk Island. Now the numbers are few. Within sight of Brammo Bay is the scene of an official "dispersal" of those alleged to have been responsible for the murder of some of the crew of a wrecked vessel, who had drifted ashore on a raft.
But Andy and Dunk ignored their chums. "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.
"Don't you go, Dunk!" Mortimer Gaffington, fixing an insolent and supercilious stare on Andy, said: "Don't mind him, Dunk. You're not tied to him, remember. The little-brother-come-in-out-of-the-wet game doesn't go at Yale. Every man stands on his own feet. Eh, Dunk?" "That's right." "You're not going to leave your loving friends and go home so early; are you, Dunk?" "Course not.
Walking on a little way, Andy saw a solitary figure under a tree. He knew who it was. The other saw him coming, but did not stir. Presently they were within speaking distance. Andy paused a moment and then, holding out his hand, said softly: "Dunk!" The figure looked up, and a little smile crept over the moody face. "Andy!" cried Dunk, stepping forward.
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