SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 217 | Next

Stokes, Roy Eliot

"Or, The Great Quadrangle Mystery"

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.


Pages:
205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229