eave his
head if it wasn't fastened on, or if I didn't remind him of it," and
Andy felt quite a righteous glow as he began to look about for the
valuable timepiece belonging to his roommate.

"He must have it on him," went on Andy, as a hasty search about the room
did not reveal it. "Probably he's stuck it in his trousers' pocket with
his keys and loose change. He oughtn't to have a good watch the way he
uses it. Well, it isn't here--that's sure."

Andy, a little later, turned on the electric light, but no glow followed
the snapping of the button.

"Current off again--or else it's burned out," he murmured. A look in the
hall outside showed him other lamps gleaming and he knew that his own
light must be at fault.

"Guess I'll go get another bulb," he remarked.

When he returned with the new one he was aware that some one was in the
darkened room.

"That you, Dunk?" he asked.

"No," answered a voice he recognized as that of Ikey Stein. "I saw you
going down the hall and guessed what you were after, so I took the
liberty of coming in and waiting. I've got some real bargains."

"Nothing doing, Ikey," laughed Andy, as he screwed the lamp in the
socket and lighted up the room. "Got all the ties I need for my whole
course in Yale."

"It isn't ties," said Ikey, and his voice was so serious that Andy
wondered at it. "It's handkerchiefs," went on the student-salesman.
"Andy, I'm in bad. I bought a big stock of these things, and I've got to
sell 'em to get my money out of 'em. I thought I would have plenty of
time, but I owe a bill that's due now, and the man wants his money. So
I've got to sell these handkerchiefs quicker than I expected. I need the
cash, so I'll let 'em go for just what I paid for 'em. I don't care if I
don't make a cent."

"Let's see 'em," suggested Andy. The talk sounded familiar. It was
"bargain" patter, but an inspection of the handkerchiefs showed Andy
that they were worth what was asked for them. And, as it happened, he
was in need of some. He bought two dozen, and suggested to Ikey several
other students in Wright Hall on whom he might call.

"Thanks," said the salesman, as he departed after a lengthy visit in
Andy's room. "I won't forget what you've done for me, Blair. I'm having
a hard time, and some people try to make it all the harder. They think,
because I'm a Jew, that I have no feelings--that I like to be laughed
at, and made to think that all I care about is money. Wait! Some day
I'