ed a gay voice. "Trying to break up
housekeeping?"

"It's Gaffington!" murmured Andy.

"Come on in!" invited Dunk.

"You fellows come on out!" retorted the newcomer. "There's a peach of a
show at Poli's. Let's take it in and have supper at Burke's afterward."

Dunk got up.

"Hanged if I don't!" he said, with a defiant look at Andy.

"That's the stuff! Be a sport!" challenged Mortimer. "Coming along,
Blair?"

"No."

Mortimer laughed.

"Go down among the dead ones!" he cried. "Come on, Dunk, we'll make a
night of it!"

And they went out together, leaving Andy alone in the silent room.

CHAPTER XVI

IN BAD

The clock was ticking. To Andy it sounded as loud as a timepiece in a
tower. The rhythmic cadence seemed to fill the room. Somewhere off in
the distance a bell boomed out--a church bell.

Andy sat in a brown study, looking into the fireplace. A little blaze
was going on the hearth, and the young student, gazing at the embers saw
many pictures there.

For some time Andy sat without stirring. He had listened to the
retreating footsteps of Dunk and Mortimer as the boys passed down the
corridor, laughing.

Through Wright Hall there echoed other footsteps--coming and
going--there was the sound of voices in talk and in gay repartee.
Students called one to the other, or in groups hurried here and there,
intent on pleasure. Andy sat there alone--thinking--thinking.

A log in the fireplace broke with a suddenness that startled him. A
shower of sparks flew up the chimney, and a little puff of smoke shot
out into the room. Andy roused himself.

"Oh, hang it all!" he exclaimed aloud. "Why should I care? Let him go
with that crowd--with Mort and his bunch if he likes. What difference
does it make to me?"

He stood up, his arm on the mantel where had rested the Japanese vase
purchased so mysteriously. Now only the fragments of it were there.

A comparison between that shattered vase and what might be the shattered
friendship between himself and his roommate came to Andy, but he
resolutely thrust it aside.

"What difference does it make to me?" he asked himself. "Let him go his
own way, and I'll go mine."

He crossed to the book rack on the window sill, intending to do some
studying. On the broad stone ledge outside the casement he kept his
bottle of spring water. It was a cooler place than the room. Andy poured
himself out a drink, and as he sipped it he said again:

"Why should I care what he