"But I've got another job," he said to Andy, a day or so later. "That lawyer is a good sort. He helped me. I'm just going to stick here until I prove that I didn't have a hand in those robberies." "That's the way to talk!" cried Andy. "You didn't hear where the hundred dollars came from, did you?" "No, and I can see that my explanation of how I got it isn't going to be believed in court. But it's true, just the same." "Then the truth will come out--some time," said Andy, firmly. "In the meanwhile, if I can do anything, let me know." "Thank you." The months passed. Spring was faintly heralded in milder weather, by the return of the birds, and the presence of little buds on the leafless trees. Somewhat to the disappointment of Andy there were no more quadrangle robberies. That is, Andy was disappointed to a certain extent. For if the thefts had still kept up after the discharge of Link, it would at least show that someone besides the young farmer was guilty. As it was, it made his case appear all the worse. "But I'm not going to believe it!" exclaimed Andy. "Link is not guilty!" "Go to it, old man!" cried Dunk. "I'm with you to the end." Indoor baseball practice was held in the cage on Elm street, back of the gymnasium, and Andy was picked to catch for the freshman nine. Dunk, to his delight, was first choice for pitcher. Then came intense longings to get out on the real diamond. The chance came sooner than was expected, for there was an early Spring. The ground was still a little soft and damp, but it could be played on, and soon crowds of students began pouring out to Yale Field to watch the practice and the games between the class nines, or the varsity and the scrubs. "Come on now, Dunk, sting 'em in!" "Fool him, boy, fool him!" "Make him give you a nice one!" "Watch his glass arm break!" These cries greeted Dunk, who was pitching for the freshmen against a scrub nine one afternoon. It was a few days before the game with the Princeton freshmen--the first game of the season, and the Yale freshman coaches were anxious to get their nine into good shape. "Ah! There he goes!" came a yell, as the scrub batter hit the ball Dunk pitched in to Andy. But the ball went straight back into the hands of Dunk, who stopped it, hot liner though it was, and the batter was out--retiring the side. CHAPTER XXXII VICTORY Mortimer Gaffington stayed on at Yale. How he did it Andy and Dunk, who alone seemed to know of his father's failure, could not tell. Andy's mother confirmed her first news about Mr. Gaffington's losses. Yet Mortimer stayed at college. Afterward it developed that he was in dire straits, and only by much ingenuity did he manage to raise enough to keep up appearances. He borrowed right and left, taking from one to satisfy the demands of another--an endless chain sort of arrangement that was bound to break sooner or later.