"Socks--silk ones, and such colors! Look!" and from various pockets he pulled pairs of half hose. They fell about the room, giving it a decidedly rainbow effect. "Oh, for the love of tomatoes!" cried Dunk. "Have you been raiding a paint store?" "These are all the latest shades--the fashion just over from Paris!" exclaimed Ikey, indignantly. "I bought a fellow's stock out and I can let you have these for a quarter a pair. They're worth fifty in any store." "Take 'em away!" begged Andy. "They hurt my eyes. I won't be able to play ball to-morrow." "You ought to buy some--look, I have some dark blue ones," urged Ikey, holding them up. "These are very--chaste!" "Those aren't so bad," conceded Dunk, tolerantly. "Take 'em for twenty cents," said the student salesman, suddenly. "I need the money!" "Tell you what I'll do," spoke Andy. "If we win the game to-morrow I'll buy a dollar's worth, provided you let us alone now." "It's a bargain!" cried Ikey, gathering up the scattered socks. "And I'll do the same," promised Dunk, whereupon the salesman departed for other rooms. "Queer chap, isn't he?" remarked Dunk, after a pause that followed Ikey's departure. "Yes, but do you know, I rather like him," said Andy, with a quick look at his chum. "There's one thing that a fellow gets into the habit of when he comes to Yale--or, for that matter, to any good college, I suppose." "What's that?" asked Dunk, his mind quickly snapping to some of the not very good habits he had fallen into. "It's learning how to take the measure of a fellow," went on Andy, "I mean his measure in the right way--not according to the standards we are used to." "Quite philosophical; aren't you?" laughed Dunk, as he picked up a book, and leafed it. "Well, that's another habit you get into here," said Andy, with a smile. "But you know what I mean, don't you Dunk?" "Well, I suppose you mean that you get tolerant of persons--fellows and so on--that you have a natural dislike for otherwise; is that it?" "Partly. You learn to appreciate a fellow for what he is really worth--not because his dad can write a check in any number of figures, and not turn a hair. It's _worth_ that counts at Yale, and not cash." "You're right there, Andy. I think I've learned that, too. Take some of the fellows here--we needn't mention any names--their popularity, such as it is, depends on how much they can spend, or how many spreads they can give in the course of the year. And the worst of it is, that their popularity would go out like a candle in a tornado, once they lost their money." "Exactly," agreed Dunk. "They get so to depending on the power of their cash they think its all that counts."