Andy at Yale | Page 7

your goat!" exclaimed Tom, with a cheerful grin.
"I've had enough of you young upstarts!" cried the farmer, turning
fiercely on Andy and his chums. "Be off!"
"Wait until we see if Link has his money all right," suggested Andy.
"He might ring in a counterfeit bill on you if you don't watch out."
"Bah!" sneered the farmer.
Link counted over his wages. They were all right.
"Now I'll get my things and go," he said, calmly.
"And don't you ever come around askin' me for a job," warned his
former employer.
"I guess there isn't much danger," spoke Tom, quietly. "Come on,
fellows. I'm hungry enough to eat two of Kelly's steaks."
They followed Andy, who again lightly leaped the fence into the road.

Link went on toward the house to pack up his few belongings. He
waved his hand toward the boys, and they waved back. They hardly
expected to see him again, and certainly Andy Blair never dreamed of
the strange part the young farmer would play in his coming life at Yale.
Such odd tricks does fate play upon us.
The Milton lads swung on down the road in the direction of
Churchtown. It was early evening by now.
"Some doings!" commented Chet as he slipped his arm into that of
Andy.
"I should say!" exclaimed Ben. "Andy, you took the right action that
time."
"Well, I just couldn't bear to see that chap, with his arm in a sling,
being beaten up by that brute of a farmer," was the reply. "It got my
dander up."
"Same here," spoke Tom.
"You'd never know it, from the way you acted," put in Frank.
"Tom is always worst when he's quietest," remarked Andy. "Well, now
for a good feed. Let's cut through here, hop a car, and get to Kelly's
quicker."
"Go ahead, we're with you," announced Chet, and soon the lads were in
the "eating joint," as they called it.
"Broiled steak with French fried potatoes, Adolph!"
"Yah!"
"I want an omelet with green peppers!"
"Liver and bacon for mine!"
"Ham and eggs! Plenty of gravy!"

"Yah!"
"Coffee with my order, Adolph!"
"Yah!"
"And say, I want some of those rolls with moon-seeds on top, Adolph!
Don't forget!"
"Nein!"
"And my coffee comes with my steak, not afterward. Hoch der Kaiser!"
"Shure!"
"How's the soup, Adolph?"
"Fine und hot!"
"That's good! One on you, Tom!"
"Bring me a plate!"
"Oh, say, Adolph, make my order a chop instead of those ham and
eggs."
"Yah!"
"And, Adolph."
"Yes, sir."
"I want a glass of milk, with a squirt of vichy in it. Don't forget."
"Nein, I vunt!"
"And speed up, Adolph, we're all in a hurry."
"Shure. You vos allvays in a hurry!"

The German waiter scurried away. How he ever remembered it all is
one of the mysteries that one day may be solved. But he never forgot,
and never made a mistake.
The boys were seated at a table in one of the small rooms of Kelly's.
They stretched out their legs and took their ease, for they felt they had
earned a little relaxation.
About them in other rooms, in small recesses made by the high-backed
seats, were other students. There was a calling back and forth.
"Hello, Spike!"
"Stick out your head, Bender!"
"Over here, Buster--here's room!"
"There's Bunk now!"
You could not tell who was saying what or which, nor to whom, any
more than I can. Hence the rather disjointed style of the preceding. But
you know what I mean, for you must have been there yourself. If not, I
beg of you to get into some such place where "good fellows," in the
truest sense of the word, meet together. For where they congregate it is
always "good weather," no matter if it snows or hails, or even if the
stormy winds do blow--do blow--do blow!
But at last a measure of quietness settled down in Kelly's, and the
chatter of voices was succeeded by the clatter of knives and forks.
Then came a reaction--a time when one settled back on one's bench, the
first tearing edge of the appetite dulled. It was at this time that Tom
Hatfield, leaning over to Andy, said:
"And so you are going to Yale?"
"Yes, I've made up my mind."
"Well, I congratulate you. It's a grand old place. Wish I was with you."

"Say, Andy!" piped up Chet Anderson, "if you go to Yale you'll meet
an old friend of yours there."
"Who, for the love of bacon?"
"Mortimer Gaffington!"
Andy's knife fell to his plate with a clash that caused the other diners to
look up hurriedly.
"Mortimer Gaffington!" gasped our hero. "For cats' sake! That's so. I
forgot he went to Yale! Oh, wow! Well, it can't be helped. I've made
my choice!"
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