“Just in time,” he murmured. When Gaffington saw Dunk in charge of his friends he and the others turned aside.
“That’s when I got ahead of him!” exulted our hero.
They spent a pleasant evening, and Andy and Dunk were back in their room at a reasonable hour.
“I declare!” exclaimed Dunk, “I feel pretty fresh yet. I think I’ll have another go at that Greek. We won’t have to get up with the chickens then.”
“I’m with you,” agreed Andy, and they did more studying than they had done in some time.
“Well, I’m through,” yawned Dunk, flinging his book on the table. “Now I’m going to hit the hay.”
The next day Dunk was complimented on his recitation.
“Oh, I tell you it pays to bone a bit!” Andy cried, clapping Dunk on the back as they came out.
“That’s right,” agreed the other.
In the days that followed Andy watched Dunk closely. And, to our hero’s delight, Gaffington seemed to be losing his influence. Several times Dunk refused to go out with him—refused good-naturedly enough, but steadfastly.