He gave a number of suppers which were the talk of the college, but he was wise enough to keep them within certain bounds so that he was not called to account. But he was walking over thin ice, and none knew it better than himself. But there was a fatal fascination in it.
Several times he came to Dunk to invite him to attend some of the midnight affairs, but Dunk declined, and Andy was very glad. Dunk said Mortimer had several times asked for loans, but had met with refusals.
“I’m not going to give him any more,” said Dunk. “He’s had enough of my cash now.”
“Hasn’t he paid any back?” asked Andy.
“Some, yes, and the next time he wants more than at first. I’m done.”
“I should think so,” remarked Andy. “He’s played you long enough.”
“Oh, Mortimer isn’t such a bad sort when you get to know him,” went on Dunk, easily. “I rather like him, but I can see that it isn’t doing anyone any good to be in his crowd. That’s why I cut it out. I came here to make something of myself—I owe it to dad, who’s putting up the cash, and I’m not going to disappoint him. Then, too, you old scout, I suppose you wouldn’t let me go sporting around the way I used to.”
“Not much!” laughed Andy, but there was an undernote of seriousness in his words.
There was nothing new in Link’s case. It was still hanging fire in the courts. And there were no more robberies. It was somewhat of a puzzle to Andy that they should cease with the arrest of Link, whom he could not believe guilty.
Dunk’s watch had not been recovered, nor had any more of the valuable books, one of which was found by the detective in Link’s room, been discovered. How it got in the closet of the young farmer, unless he put it there, the lawyer whom Andy and Dunk had hired said he could not understand.