Andy at Yale Part 50

"No, I was trying to get that straight what you said about the supply of old maids in a community depending on the number of clover blossoms."

"It's the other way around--but cut it out. You'll be droning away at that all night--like a tune that gets in your head and can't get out.

Where'll we go?"

"Oh, cut down Chapel street. Let's take in the gay white way for a change. We may meet some of the fellows."

"But no staying out late!" Andy warned his chum.

"I guess not! I want to be as fit as a fiddle in the morning."

"For we're going to chew up Princeton in the morning!" chanted Andy to the tune of a well-known ballad.

"I hope so," murmured Dunk. "Look, there goes Ikey," and as he spoke he pointed to a scurrying figure that shot across the street and into a shop devoted to the auctioning of furnishing goods.

"What's he up to, I wonder?" spoke Andy.

"Oh, this is how he lays in his stock of goods that he sticks us with.

He watches his chance, and buys up a lot, and then works them off on us."

"Well, I give him credit for it," spoke Andy, musingly. "He works hard, and he's making good. I understand he's in line for one of the best scholarships."

"Then he'll get it!" affirmed Dunk. "I never knew a fellow yet, like Ikey, who didn't get what he set out after. I declare! it makes me ashamed, sometimes, to think of all the advantages we have, and that we don't do any better. And you take a fellow like him, who has to work for every dollar he gets--doesn't belong to any of the clubs--doesn't have any of the sports--has to study at all hours to get time to sell his stuff--and he'll pull down a prize, and we chaps----"

"Oh, can that stuff!" interrupted Andy. "We're worse than a couple of old women to-night. Let's be foolish for once, and we'll feel better for it. This game is sure getting our goats."

"I believe you. Well, if you want a chance to be foolish, here comes the crowd to stand in with."

Down the street marched a body of Yale students, arm in arm, singing and chanting some of the latest songs, and now and then breaking into whistling.

"Gaffington's bunch," murmured Andy.

"Yes, but he isn't with 'em," added Dunk. "Slip in here until they get past," and Dunk pulled his chum by the arm as they came opposite a dark hallway.

But it was too late. Some of the sporty students had seen the two, and made a rush for them.

"Come on, Andy!"

"Oh, you, Dunk! Grab him, fellows!"

Immediately the two were surrounded by a gay and laughing throng.

"Bring 'em along!"

"Down to the rathskeller!"

"We'll make a night of it!"

"And we won't go home until morning!"

Thus the gay and festive lads chanted, meanwhile circling about Andy and Dunk, who sought in vain to break through. Pa.s.sersby went on their way, smiling indulgently at the antics of the students.

"Fetch 'em along!" commanded the leader of the "sports."

"Come on!" came the orders, and Andy and Dunk were dragged off toward a certain resort.

"No, we can't go--really!" protested Dunk, holding back.

"We just came out for a gla.s.s of soda," insisted Andy, "and we've got to get right back!"

"Oh, yes! That's all right."

"Soda!"

"Listen to him!"

"Regular little goody-goody boys!"

"They were trying to sneak off by themselves and have a good time by their lonesomes!"

And thus the various laughing and disbelieving comments came, one after another.

"Bring 'em along with us, and we'll show 'em how to enjoy life!"

someone called. "Gaffington will meet us at Paddy's!"

Dunk flashed Andy a signal. It would not do, he knew, to spend this night--of all nights--the one before an important game--with this crowd of fun-loving lads. They must get away.

"Look here, fellows!" expostulated Andy, "we really can't come, you know!"

"That's right," chimed in Dunk. "Let us off this time and maybe to-morrow night----"

"There may never be a to-morrow night!" chanted one of the tormentors.

"Live while you can, and enjoy yourself. You're a long time dead.

To-morrow is no man's time. The present alone is ours. Who said that, fellows? Did I make that up or not? It's blamed good, anyhow. Let's see, what was it? The present----"

"Oh, dry up! You talk too much!" protested one of his companions, with a laugh.

"What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow?" demanded another of Andy and Dunk, who were making more strenuous efforts to get away. "Don't you love us any more?"

"Sure, better than ever," laughed Andy. "But you know Dunk and I have to pitch and catch in the Princeton freshman game to-morrow, and we----"

"Say no more! I forgot about that," exclaimed the leader. "They can't be burning the midnight incandescents. Let 'em go, fellows. And may we have the honor and pleasure of your company to-morrow night?" he asked, with an elaborate bow.

"If we win--yes," said Dunk.

"It's a bargain, then. Come on, boys, we're late now," and they started off.

Andy and Dunk, glad of their escape, flitted around a corner, to be out of sight. A moment later, however, they heard renewed cries and laughter from the throng they had just left.

"Now what's up?" asked Dunk. "Are they after us again?"