"T'anks!" exclaimed the urchin. Then with a roguish glance he added: "Gee, but you college guys is great!" "Hop along!" commanded Andy briefly. Should he go, after all? He had said he would and yet---- "Oh, hang it! I guess I'd better go!" he said aloud, just as though he had not intended to all along. He turned up the light and began throwing about a pile of neckties. He tried first one and then another. None seemed to satisfy him, and when he did get the hue that suited him it would not allow itself to be properly tied. "Oh, rats!" Andy exclaimed. "Why should I care?" Why indeed? It is one of the mysteries. "Vanity of vanities" and the rest of it. As he entered Poli's Andy was aware that something unusual was going on. The ushers were grinning with good-natured tolerance, but there was rather an anxious look on the faces of some of the women in the audience. Some of their male escorts appeared resentful. Andy had been obliged to purchase a box seat, as there were no vacant ones in the body of the house. As he sank into his chair, rather back, for the box was well filled, he saw a college classmate. "What's up?" he asked, the curtain then being down to allow of a change of scene. "Oh, Gaffington and his crowd are joshing some of the acts." "Any row?" "No, everybody takes it good-naturedly. Bunch of our fellows here to-night." "Show any good?" "Pretty fair. Some of the things are punk. There's a good number coming--Mazie Fuller--she's got a new act. And Bodkins--you know the tramp juggler--the one who does things with cigar boxes--he's coming on next. He's a scream." "Yes, I know him. He's all right." The curtain went up and from the wings came Miss Fuller. She had prospered in vaudeville, it seemed, for she had on a richer costume than the one she wore when she had been so nearly burned to death. She was well received, and while singing her first number she looked about the house. Presently she caught the eyes of Andy--he had leaned forward in the box, perhaps purposely. Miss Fuller smiled at him, and at once a chorus of cries arose from the students in the different parts of the theater. Up to then, since Andy's entrance, there had been no commotion. Now it broke out again. "Oh, get on to that!" "The lad with the dreamy eyes!" "Oh, you Andy Blair!" Andy sank back blushing, but Miss Fuller took it in good part. Her act went on, and was well received. She did not again look at Andy, possibly fearing to embarrass him. And then, as she retired after her last number--a veritable whirlwind song--there came a thunder of applause, mingled with shrill whistles, to compel an encore. Andy was aware of a disturbance in the front of the house. It was where a number of the students were seated, and Andy had a glimpse of Dunk Chamber. Beside him was Gaffington. Dunk had arisen and was swaying unsteadily on his feet. "Sit down!" "Keep him quiet!" "Put him out!" "Call the manager!" "Make him sit down!"