“Of course not!”
“That’s all right then. Fellows, I’ll give you one—Andy Blair—a good tackier!” and Mortimer raised his glass on high.
“Andy Blair! Oh, you Andy! Your eye on us!”
And thus was Andy pledged by his enemy. What did it mean?
Faster grew the fun. The room was choking blue with tobacco smoke, and Andy wanted to get away.
“Come on, Dunk,” he said. “Let’s pull out. We’ve got some stiff recitations to-morrow.”
“All right, I’m willing.”
Mortimer saw them start to leave, and coming over put his arm affectionately around Dunk.
“Oh, you’re not going!” he expostulated. “Why, it’s early yet and the fun’s just starting. Don’t be a quitter!”
Dunk flushed. He was not used to being called that.