He stood on the steps a moment as he came out, and then walked toward the Green, with its great elm trees, now looming mistily in the September haze. Three churches on Temple street seemed to stand as a sort of guard in front of the college buildings that loomed behind them. Three silent and closed churches they were. Up Chapel street walked Andy, and he came to a stop on College street, opposite Phelps Gateway. Through the gathering dusk he could make out the inscription over it: LUX ET VERITAS "That's it! That's what I came here for," he said. "Light and truth! Oh, but it's great! Great!" He drew in a long breath, and stood for a moment contemplating the beautiful outlines of the college buildings. "Oh, but I'm glad I'm here!" he whispered. Other students were pouring through the classic gateway. Andy crossed the street and joined them. Already lights were beginning to glow in Lawrance and Farnam Halls, where the sophomores had their rooms. Andy could see some of them lolling on cushions in their window seats. Yale blue cushions, they were. He passed in through the gateway, his footsteps clanging back to his ears, reflected by the arch overhead. He emerged onto the campus, and started across it toward Wright Hall, with its raised courtyard, and its curtained windows of blue. "I wonder if Dunk is there yet?" thought Andy. "Hope he is. Oh, it's Yale at last! Yale! Yale!" He breathed in deep of the night air. He looked at the shadows of the electric lights of the campus filtering through the trees. He paused a moment. A confusion of sounds came to him. Outside the quadrangle in which he stood he could hear the hum of the busy city--the clang of trolleys, the clatter of horses, the hoarse croak of auto horns. Within the precincts of the college buildings he could hear the hum of voices. Now and then came the tinkle of a piano or the vibration of a violin. Then there were shouts. "Oh, you, Pop! Stick out your head!" The call of one student to another. "I wonder if they'll ever call me?" mused Andy. He started across the campus. Coming toward him were several dark figures. Andy met them under a light, and started back. Before he had a chance to speak someone shouted at him: "There he is now! The freshest of the fresh! Take off that hat!" It was Mortimer Gaffington. CHAPTER X MISSING MONEY For a moment Andy stood there, not knowing what to do or say. It was so unexpected, and yet he knew he must meet Mortimer at Yale--meet and perhaps clash with the lad who was now a sophomore--the lad who had such good cause now to dislike Andy. On his part the young "swell" leered into Andy's face, then glanced sidelong at the youths who accompanied him. Andy recognized them as the same who had been in the auto that night of the bonfire at Milton. "That's he!" exclaimed Mortimer; then to Andy: "I didn't think I'd meet you quite so soon, Blair! So you're here, eh?" "Yes," answered Andy.