“It sure is, old man.”
Someone touched Andy on the shoulder. He looked around to see Ikey holding out a package. One in the other hand was offered to Dunk.
“The socks,” spoke the student salesman, simply.
“Say, give us time to get into our clothes!” demanded Andy. “Do you think we carry cash in our uniforms?”
“I didn’t want you to forget,” said Ikey, with a grin. “There is another fellow taking up my business now, and I’ve got to hustle if I want the trade. Going to your room?”
“I’ll go on ahead and wait for you,” said Ikey. “I need the money.”
“Say, you’re the limit! You’re as bad as a sheriff with an attachment,” complained Dunk. But he could not help laughing at the other’s persistence.
Andy and Dunk were a little late getting back to Wright Hill, and when they entered their room they found a note on the table. It was from Ikey, and read:
“I found your door open, and waited a while, but I just heard of a bargain lot of suspenders I can buy, so I went off to see about them. I will be back with the socks in a little while.”