“Say, that would make a hit, wouldn’t it? Maybe if we could tell some of Jake’s supporters that if they voted for you they’d be taken from their rooms to Oxford in an automobile, we could land the election for you!”
“I guess that’s the only way we can land it,” said Dan dubiously. “I’m going to talk things over with Alf. He was cut out for a politician. Want to come along?”
“Can’t; I have to study a bit. I’ll look in to-morrow. There goes Gerald. I wonder if he knows what a mint of trouble you’re taking to get him elected to Cambridge.”
“I fancy he suspects,” said Dan, with a smile. “He isn’t a fool, Gerald isn’t. Well, see you to-morrow then. So long, Arthur. Thanks for taking so much trouble for me. I’ll try and do something for you some day to make up.”
“Pshaw, you don’t need to! I like it! I only hope we succeed, that’s all.”
They got up from where they had been sitting on the steps of Whitson and Arthur rattled upstairs to his room while Dan went across the Yard to Dudley. Alf’s and Tom’s room was on the ground floor and so it wasn’t necessary to enter the building in order to discover whether they were at home. Dan simply put his head in at the open window.
“Anyone in?” he asked.
“No, we’re both out,” replied Tom, from the window seat, making a grab for Dan and just missing. Dan looked carefully about the Yard and then swung himself in through the casement, trampling on Tom and bringing a groan of protest from that recumbent youth.
“If faculty sees you do that,” remonstrated Alf from the table, “you’ll get fits.”