Andy at Yale: Or, The Great Quadrangle MysteryStokes, Roy Eliot
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Andy at Yale: Or, The Great Quadrangle Mystery
Stokes, Roy Eliot
College students -- Juvenile fiction; Yale University -- Juvenile fiction
Down the street marched a body of Yale students, arm in arm, singing and
chanting some of the latest songs, and now and then breaking into
whistling.
"Gaffington's bunch," murmured Andy.
"Yes, but he isn't with 'em," added Dunk. "Slip in here until they get
past," and Dunk pulled his chum by the arm as they came opposite a dark
hallway.
But it was too late. Some of the sporty students had seen the two, and
made a rush for them.
"Come on, Andy!"
"Oh, you, Dunk! Grab him, fellows!"
Immediately the two were surrounded by a gay and laughing throng.
"Bring 'em along!"
"Down to the rathskeller!"
"We'll make a night of it!"
"And we won't go home until morning!"
Thus the gay and festive lads chanted, meanwhile circling about Andy and
Dunk, who sought in vain to break through. Passersby went on their way,
smiling indulgently at the antics of the students.
"Fetch 'em along!" commanded the leader of the "sports."
"Come on!" came the orders, and Andy and Dunk were dragged off toward a
certain resort.
"No, we can't go--really!" protested Dunk, holding back.
"We just came out for a glass of soda," insisted Andy, "and we've got to
get right back!"
"Oh, yes! That's all right."
"Soda!"
"Listen to him!"
"Regular little goody-goody boys!"
"They were trying to sneak off by themselves and have a good time by
their lonesomes!"
And thus the various laughing and disbelieving comments came, one after
another.
"Bring 'em along with us, and we'll show 'em how to enjoy life!"
someone called. "Gaffington will meet us at Paddy's!"
Dunk flashed Andy a signal. It would not do, he knew, to spend this
night--of all nights--the one before an important game--with this crowd
of fun-loving lads. They must get away.
"Look here, fellows!" expostulated Andy, "we really can't come, you
know!"
"That's right," chimed in Dunk. "Let us off this time and maybe
to-morrow night----"
"There may never be a to-morrow night!" chanted one of the tormentors.
"Live while you can, and enjoy yourself. You're a long time dead.
To-morrow is no man's time. The present alone is ours. Who said that,
fellows? Did I make that up or not? It's blamed good, anyhow. Let's see,
what was it? The present----"
"Oh, dry up! You talk too much!" protested one of his companions, with a
laugh.
"What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow?" demanded another of Andy
and Dunk, who were making more strenuous efforts to get away. "Don't you
love us any more?"
"Sure, better than ever," laughed Andy. "But you know Dunk and I have to
pitch and catch in the Princeton freshman game to-morrow, and we----"
"Say no more! I forgot about that," exclaimed the leader. "They can't be
burning the midnight incandescents. Let 'em go, fellows. And may we
have the honor and pleasure of your company to-morrow night?" he asked,
with an elaborate bow.
"If we win--yes," said Dunk.
"It's a bargain, then. Come on, boys, we're late now," and they started
off.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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