CHAPTER XXIX
THE ACCUSATION
"Pulter's book, eh?" murmured Mortimer, slowly, as he turned it about,looking on the front and back blank pages.
"It sure is," went on Andy, eagerly. "I'd know that ink blot anywhere.Pulter let out a howl like an Indian when my pen leaked on his book. Theblot looks like a Chinese laundryman turned upside down."
"That's right," agreed Mortimer. "Queer, isn't it?"
"Yes," went on Andy, his curiosity growing. "Where did you get it?"
"Found it," spoke the rich lad, quickly. "I went out to the new YaleField to see how the stadium was coming on, and I saw this under a clumpof bushes. I knew it was a valuable book, so I brought it back with me.It hasn't got Pulter's name in it, though."
"No," went on Andy. "His name was on the other front leaf. That wasworse blotted with the ink than this one, and he tore it out. But I'msure that's Pulter's book."
"Very likely," admitted Mortimer, coolly. "I'll take it to him. I'm gladI found it. Going my way?"
"Yes," and Andy walked beside the lad from his home town, thinking ofmany things. Mortimer went into Wright Hall, but Pulter was not in.
"I'll leave the book for him," Mortimer said to Andy, "and you can callhis attention to it. If it isn't his let me know, and I'll post a noticesaying that I've found it."
"All right," agreed our hero. "But I know it's Pulter's."
He was telling Dunk about the incident, when his roommate came in alittle later, and they were discussing the queer coincidence, whenPulter came bursting in.
"Oh, I say!" he cried. "I've got my book back! What do you know aboutthat? It was on my table, and----"
He stopped and looked queerly at Andy and Dunk, who were smiling.
"What's the joke?" demanded Pulter. "Did you fellows----"
"Gaffington found it," said Andy. "Sit down and I'll explain," which hedid.
"Well, that is a queer go!" exclaimed Pulter. "How in the world did mybook get out to Yale Field? It isn't so queer that Gaffington wouldfind it, for I understand he goes out there a lot, on walks. But how didmy book get there?"
"Probably whoever took it found they couldn't get much by pawning orselling it, and threw it away," suggested Dunk.
"Looks that way," agreed Andy. "But it sure is a queer game all around."
They discussed it from many standpoints. Pulter was very glad to get hisbook back, for he was not a wealthy lad, and the cost of a new volumemeant more to him than it would to others.
"Well, Andy, how do you size it up?" asked Dunk, when Pulter had goneback to his apartment and Andy and his chum sat in their cozy roombefore a crackling fire.
"How do you mean?" asked Andy, to gain time.
"Why, about Gaffington having that book. Didn't it look sort of fishy toyou?"
"It did in a way, yes. But his explanation was very natural. It all_might_ have happened that way."
"Oh, yes, of course. But do _you_ believe it?"
"I don't know why I shouldn't. Gaffington's folks have no end of money,you know. He wouldn't be guilty of taking a book. If he did want to cribsomething he'd go in for something big."
"Well, some of these quadrangle robberies have been big enough. There'smy watch, for instance."
"What! You don't mean you believe Gaffington is the quadrangle thief!"exclaimed Andy, in surprise.
"I don't believe it, exactly, no. If he's rich, as you say, certainly hewouldn't run the risk for the comparatively few dollars he could get outof the thefts. But I will admit that this book business did make mesuspicious."
"Oh, forget it," advised Andy, with a laugh. "I don't like Gaffington,and I never did, but I don't believe that of him."
"Oh, well, I dare say I'm wrong. It was only a theory."
"I would like to know who's doing all this business, though," went onAndy.
"It's probably some of the hired help they have around here," suggestedDunk. "They can't investigate the character of all the men and womenemployed in the kitchens, the dormitories and around the grounds."
"No, that's right. I only hope my friend Link doesn't fall undersuspicion."
For a week or so after this, matters went on quietly at Yale. There wereno further thefts and the authorities had begun to hope there would beno more. They had about given up the hope of solving the mystery ofthose already committed.
Then came a sensation. Some very valuable books were taken one nightfrom Chittenden Hall--rare volumes worth considerable money. The nextmorning there was much excitement when the fact became known.
"Now something will be done!" predicted Andy.
"Well, what can they do that hasn't already been done?" asked Dunk."They may make a search of every fellow's room. I wish they'd come here.Maybe they'd find that my watch, after all, has hidden itself awaysomewhere instead of being taken."
"They're welcome if they want to look here," said Andy. "But I don'tbelieve they'll do that. They'll probably get a real detective now."
And that was what the Dean did. He disliked very much to call in thepublic police, but the loss of the rare books was too serious a theft topass over with the hiring of a private detective.
Just what was done was not disclosed, but it leaked out that a closewatch was being kept on all the employees at Yale, and suspicion, it wassaid, had narrowed down to one or two.
One day Link called on Andy to pay back the money he had borrowed.
"There's no hurry," said Andy. "I don't need it."
"Oh, I want to pay it back," said the young farmer. "I have plenty ofcash now," and he exhibited quite a roll of bills.
"Been drawing your salary?" asked Andy, with a laugh.
"No, this is a little windfall that came to me," was the answer.
"A windfall? Did someone die and leave you a fortune?"
"No, not exactly. It came to me in a curious way. I got it through themail, and there wasn't a word of explanation with it. Just the billfolded in a letter. A hundred-dollar bill, it was, but I had itchanged."
"Do you mean someone sent you a hundred dollars, and you don't know whoit's from?" asked Andy, in surprise.
"That's right!" exclaimed Link, with a laugh. "I wish I did know, forI'd write and thank whoever it was. It surely came in handy."
"Why, it's very strange," spoke Andy, slowly. "Could you tell by thepostmark where the letter came from?"
"It was from New York, but I haven't a friend there that I know of."
"Well, I'm glad you've got it. Take care of it, Link."
"I intend to. I can lend you some now, if you need it, Mr. Blair."
"Thank you, I have enough at present."
Andy watched his protege walk across the campus, and near the middleobserved him stopped by a stranger. Link appeared surprised, and startedback. There was a quick movement, and the young farmer was seized by theother.
"That's queer!" exclaimed Andy. "I wonder what's up? Link may be introuble. Maybe that fellow's trying to rob him."
The quadrangle was almost deserted at the time. Andy hurried down andran over to where Link was standing. The student caught the gleam ofsomething on the wrist of his friend. It was a steel handcuff!
"What--what's up, Link?" Andy gasped.
"Why, Mr. Blair--I don't know. This man--he says he's a detective,and----"
"So I am a detective, and I don't want any of your funny work!" was thesnappish retort. "There's my badge," and it was flashed from under thearmhole of the man's vest, being fastened to his suspenders, where mostplain-clothes men carry their official emblem.
"A detective!" gasped Andy. "What's the matter? Why do you want LinkBardon?"
"We want him because he's accused of being the quadrangle thief!" wasthe unexpected answer. "Stand aside now, I'm going to take him to thestation house!"
Andy at Yale Page 29
