"Shall I get a cab?" he asked. "There must be one somewhere around." "Certainly not," answered Dunk. "I--I can walk, I guess." They reached Wright Hall, neither speaking much on the way. Andy was glad--and sorry. Sorry that Dunk had allowed his resolution to be broken, but glad that he had been able to stop his friend in time. "Thanks, old man," said Dunk, briefly, as they reached their room. "You've done more than you know." "That's all right," replied Andy, in a low voice. Dunk went to chapel with Andy the next morning, but he was rather silent during the day, and he flunked miserably in several recitations on the days following. Truth to tell he was in no condition to put his mind seriously on lessons, but he tried hard. Andy, coming in from football practice one afternoon, found Dunk standing in the middle of the apartment staring curiously at a yellow-backed ten-dollar bill he was holding in both of his hands. "What's the matter?" asked Andy. "A windfall?" "No, Gaffington just sent it in to me. Said it was one he took the other night when I flashed it at Burke's." "Oh, yes, I remember," spoke Andy. "You were getting too generous." "I know that part of it--Gaffington meant all right. But I don't understand this." "What?" asked Andy. "Why, this is a ten-spot, and I'm sure I had a twenty that night. However, I may be mistaken--I guess I couldn't see straight. But I was sure it was a twenty. Don't say anything about it, though--probably I was wrong. It was decent of Gaffington not to let me lose it all." And Dunk thrust the ten dollar bill into his pocket. It was several days after this when Andy, crossing the quadrangle, saw a familiar figure raking up the leaves on the campus. "What in the world is he doing here--if that's him?" he asked himself. "And yet it does look like him." He came closer. The young fellow raking up the leaves turned, and Andy exclaimed: "Link Bardon! What in the world are you doing here?" "Oh, I've come to college!" replied the young farm hand, smiling. "How do you do, Mr. Blair?" "Come to college, eh?" laughed Andy. "What course are you taking?" "I expect to get the degree B. W.--bachelor of work," was the rejoinder. "I'm sort of assistant janitor here now." "Is that so! How did it happen?" "Well, you know the last time I saw you I was on my way to see if I could locate an uncle of mine, just outside of New Haven. I didn't, for he'd moved away. Then I got some odd bits of work to do, and finally, coming to town with a young fellow, who, like myself was out of work, I heard of this place, applied for it and got it. I like it." "Well, I'm glad you are here," said Andy. "If I can help you in any way let me know." "I will, Mr. Blair. You did help a lot before," and he went on raking leaves, while Andy, musing on the strange turns of luck and chance, hurried on to his lecture. CHAPTER XX QUEER DISAPPEARANCES "Come in!" cried Andy as a knock sounded.