CHAPTER XXXII
VICTORY
Mortimer Gaffington stayed on at Yale. How he did it Andy and Dunk, whoalone seemed to know of his father's failure, could not tell. Andy'smother confirmed her first news about Mr. Gaffington's losses. YetMortimer stayed at college.
Afterward it developed that he was in dire straits, and only by muchingenuity did he manage to raise enough to keep up appearances. Heborrowed right and left, taking from one to satisfy the demands ofanother--an endless chain sort of arrangement that was bound to breaksooner or later.
But Mortimer had managed to make a number of new friends in the "fast"set and these were not careful to remind him of the loans he solicited.Then, also, these youths had plenty of money. On them Mortimer preyed.
He gave a number of suppers which were the talk of the college, but hewas wise enough to keep them within certain bounds so that he was notcalled to account. But he was walking over thin ice, and none knew itbetter than himself. But there was a fatal fascination in it.
Several times he came to Dunk to invite him to attend some of themidnight affairs, but Dunk declined, and Andy was very glad. Dunk saidMortimer 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 mycash 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 onDunk, easily. "I rather like him, but I can see that it isn't doinganyone any good to be in his crowd. That's why I cut it out. I came hereto 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 supposeyou wouldn't let me go sporting around the way I used to."
"Not much!" laughed Andy, but there was an undernote of seriousness inhis words.
There was nothing new in Link's case. It was still hanging fire in thecourts. And there were no more robberies. It was somewhat of a puzzleto Andy that they should cease with the arrest of Link, whom he could notbelieve guilty.
Dunk's watch had not been recovered, nor had any more of the valuablebooks, one of which was found by the detective in Link's room, beendiscovered. How it got in the closet of the young farmer, unless he putit there, the lawyer whom Andy and Dunk had hired said he could notunderstand.
"I've had my man interview the boarding mistress at the house in Crownstreet," the lawyer told the boys, "and she says no one went to Link'sroom, but himself, the day the book was found. But I haven't given upyet."
It was the night before the Yale-Princeton freshman baseball game, whichwas to take place at Yale Field. Andy and Dunk were in their room,talking over the possibilities, and perfecting their code of signals.
"It looks as though it would be good weather," observed Andy, getting upand going to the window. "Nice and clear outside."
"If it only keeps so," returned Dunk. "Hope we have a good crowd."
Someone knocked on the door.
"Come!" called Andy and Dunk together. The two chums looked at eachother curiously.
Ikey Stein entered, his face all smiles.
"Such bargains!" he began.
"Socks or neckties?" asked Andy, looking for a book to throw at theintruder.
"Socks--silk ones, and such colors! Look!" and from various pockets hepulled pairs of half hose. They fell about the room, giving it adecidedly rainbow effect.
"Oh, for the love of tomatoes!" cried Dunk. "Have you been raiding apaint store?"
"These are all the latest shades--the fashion just over from Paris!"exclaimed Ikey, indignantly. "I bought a fellow's stock out and I canlet you have these for a quarter a pair. They're worth fifty in anystore."
"Take 'em away!" begged Andy. "They hurt my eyes. I won't be able toplay ball to-morrow."
"You ought to buy some--look, I have some dark blue ones," urged Ikey,holding them up. "These are very--chaste!"
"Those aren't so bad," conceded Dunk, tolerantly.
"Take 'em for twenty cents," said the student salesman, suddenly. "Ineed the money!"
"Tell you what I'll do," spoke Andy. "If we win the game to-morrow I'llbuy a dollar's worth, provided you let us alone now."
"It's a bargain!" cried Ikey, gathering up the scattered socks.
"And I'll do the same," promised Dunk, whereupon the salesman departedfor other rooms.
"Queer chap, isn't he?" remarked Dunk, after a pause that followedIkey's departure.
"Yes, but do you know, I rather like him," said Andy, with a quick lookat his chum. "There's one thing that a fellow gets into the habit ofwhen he comes to Yale--or, for that matter, to any good college, Isuppose."
"What's that?" asked Dunk, his mind quickly snapping to some of the notvery good habits he had fallen into.
"It's learning how to take the measure of a fellow," went on Andy, "Imean his measure in the right way--not according to the standards we areused to."
"Quite philosophical; aren't you?" laughed Dunk, as he picked up a book,and leafed it.
"Well, that's another habit you get into here," said Andy, with a smile."But you know what I mean, don't you Dunk?"
"Well, I suppose you mean that you get tolerant of persons--fellows andso on--that you have a natural dislike for otherwise; is that it?"
"Partly. You learn to appreciate a fellow for what he is reallyworth--not because his dad can write a check in any number of figures,and not turn a hair. It's _worth_ that counts at Yale, and not cash."
"You're right there, Andy. I think I've learned that, too. Take some ofthe fellows here--we needn't mention any names--their popularity, suchas it is, depends on how much they can spend, or how many spreads theycan give in the course of the year. And the worst of it is, that theirpopularity would go out like a candle in a tornado, once they lost theirmoney."
"Exactly," agreed Dunk. "They get so to depending on the power of theircash they think its all that counts."
"And another bad thing about that," continued Andy, "is that thosefellows, if they wanted to, could make a reputation on something elsebesides their cash. Now there's one chap here--no names, of course--buthe's a fine musician, and he could make the glee club, and the dramaticassociation too, if he liked. But he's just to confounded lazy. He'drather draw a check, give an order for a spread, and let it go at that.
"Of course the fellows like to go to the blow-outs, and--come home witha headache. This fellow thinks he gets a lot of fun out of it, but it'sdollars to some of these socks Ikey sells, that he'd have a heap morefun, and make a lot more permanent friends, if he'd get out and takepart in something that was worth while.
"Now you take our friend Ikey. I don't imagine it's any great fun forhim to be going around selling things the way he does--he has to, Iunderstand it. And yet at that, he has a better time of it than maybeyou or I do--and we don't exactly have to worry where our next allowancecheck is coming from."
"Right, Andy old man. Jove! You'd better have taken up the divinityschool. I'm thinking. You're a regular preacher."
"I don't feel a bit like preaching though, Dunk old boy. In fact I'd aheap sight rather turn in and snooze. But, do you know I'm so nervousover this game that I'm afraid I'll lie awake and toss until morning,and then I won't be much more use than a wet dishrag, as far as my nerveis concerned."
"I feel pretty nearly the same as you do, Andy. Let's sit up a while andtalk. I s'pose, though, if we ever make the varsity we'll laugh at theway we're acting now."
"Oh, I don't know," spoke Andy musingly. "Some of these varsity fellowshave as bad a case of nerves before a big game as we have now, beforeour little Freshman one."
"It isn't such a little one!" and Dunk bridled up. "The winning of thisgame from Princeton means as much to our class, and to Yale, in a way,as though the varsity took a contest. It all counts--for the honor ofthe old college.
How are you feeling, anyhow?"
"Pretty fit. I'm only afraid, though, that I'll make some horrible breakin front of the crowd--muff a foul, or let one of your fast ones get byme with the bases full," concluded Andy.
"If you do," exclaimed Dunk, with a falsetto tone calculated to impressthe hearer that a petulant girl was speaking--"if you do I'll neverspeak to you again--so there!" and he pretended to toss back arefractory lock of hair.
Andy laughed, and pitched a book at his chum, which volume Dunksuccessfully dodged.
"Well, I wouldn't want that to happen," said the catcher. "And thatreminds me. There's a rip in my glove, and I've got to sew it."
"Can you sew?"
"Oh, a bit," answered Andy. "I'm strictly an amateur though, mind you. Idon't do it for pay, so if you've got any buttons that need welding toyour trousers don't ask me to do it."
"Never!" exclaimed Dunk. "I've found a better way than that."
"What is it--the bachelor's friend--or every man his own tailor? Fastena button on with a pair of gas-pliers so that you have to take thetrousers apart when you want to get it off?"
"Something like that, yes," laughed Dunk, "only simpler. Look here!"
He pulled up the back of his vest and showed Andy where a suspenderbutton was missing. In its place Dunk had taken a horseshoe nail,pushed it through a fold of the trousers, and had caught the loop of thebraces over the nail.
"Isn't that some classy little contrivance?" he asked, proudly. "Notthat I take any credit to myself, though. Far be it! I got the idea outof the comic supplement. But it works all right, and the beauty of it isthat you can use the nail over and over again. It is practicallyindestructible.
"So you see if you are wearing the nail all day, to lectures and so on,and if you have to put on your glad rags at night to go see a girl, oranything like that, and find a button missing, you simply remove thenail from your day-pants and attach it to your night ones. Samesuspenders--same nail. It beats the bachelor's friend all to pieces."
"I should imagine so," laughed Andy. "I'll have to lay in a stock ofthose nails myself. The way tailors sew buttons on trousers nowadays isa scandal. They don't last a week."
"There's one trouble, though," went on Dunk, and he carefully examinedhis simple suspender attachment as if in fear of losing it. "With theincreasing number of autos, and the decrease in horses, there is boundto be a corresponding decrease in horseshoe nails. That's a principle ofeconomics which I am going to bring to the attention of ProfessorShandy. He likes to lecture on such cute little topics as that. He mightcall it 'Bachelor's future depends on the ratio of increase ofautomobiles.'"
"I see!" exclaimed Andy with a chuckle. "Just as Darwin, or one of thoseevolutionists proved that the clover crop depended on old maids."
"How do you make that out?" asked Dunk.
"I guess you've forgotten your evolution. Don't you remember? Darwinfound that certain kinds of clover depended for growth and fertilizationon humble bees, which alone can spread the pollen. Humble bees can'texist in a region where there are many field mice, for the mice eat thehoney, nests and even the humble bees themselves.
"Now, of course you know that the more cats there are in a neighborhoodthe less field mice there are, so if you find a place where cats areplentiful you'll find plenty of humble bees which aren't killed off bythe mice, since the mice are killed off by the cats. So Darwin provedthat the clover crop, in a certain section, was in direct proportion tothe number of cats."
"But what about old maids?"
"Oh, I believe it was Huxley who went Darwin one better, come to thinkof it. Huxley said it was well known that the more old maids there werethe more cats there were. So in a district well supplied with old maidsthere'd be plenty of cats, and in consequence plenty of clover."
"Say, are you crazy, or am I?" asked Dunk, with a wondering look at hisfriend. "This thing is getting me woozy! What did we start to talkabout, anyhow?"
"Horseshoe nails."
"And now we're at old maids. Good-night! Come on out and walk about abit. The fresh air will do us good, and maybe we'll sleep."
"I'll go you!" exclaimed Andy. "Let's go get some chocolate. I'm hungryand there isn't a bit of grub left," and he looked in the box where heusually kept some biscuits.
They went out together, passing across the quadrangle, in which scoresof students were flitting to and fro, under the elms, and in and out ofthe shadows of the electric lights.
Dunk was saying something over to himself in a low voice.
"What is that--a baseball litany?" asked Andy, with a laugh.
"No, I was trying to get that straight what you said about the supply ofold maids in a community depending on the number of clover blossoms."
"It's the other way around--but cut it out. You'll be droning away atthat all night--like a tune that gets in your head and can't get out.Where'll we go?"
"Oh, cut down Chapel street. Let's take in the gay white way for achange. We may meet some of the fellows."
"But no staying out late!" Andy warned his chum.
"I guess not! I want to be as fit as a fiddle in the morning."
"For we're going to chew up Princeton in the morning!" chanted Andy tothe tune of a well-known ballad.
"I hope so," murmured Dunk. "Look, there goes Ikey," and as he spoke hepointed to a scurrying figure that shot across the street and into ashop devoted to the auctioning of furnishing goods.
"What's he up to, I wonder?" spoke Andy.
"Oh, this is how he lays in his stock of goods that he sticks us with.He watches his chance, and buys up a lot, and then works them off onus."
"Well, I give him credit for it," spoke Andy, musingly. "He works hard,and he's making good. I understand he's in line for one of the bestscholarships."
"Then he'll get it!" affirmed Dunk. "I never knew a fellow yet, likeIkey, who didn't get what he set out after. I declare! it makes meashamed, sometimes, to think of all the advantages we have, and that wedon't do any better. And you take a fellow like him, who has to work forevery dollar he gets--doesn't belong to any of the clubs--doesn't haveany of the sports--has to study at all hours to get time to sell hisstuff--and he'll pull down a prize, and we chaps----"
"Oh, can that stuff!" interrupted Andy. "We're worse than a couple ofold women to-night. Let's be foolish for once, and we'll feel better forit. This game is sure getting our goats."
"I believe you. Well, if you want a chance to be foolish, here comes thecrowd to stand in with."
Down the street marched a body of Yale students, arm in arm, singing andchanting some of the latest songs, and now and then breaking intowhistling.
"Gaffington's bunch," murmured Andy.
"Yes, but he isn't with 'em," added Dunk. "Slip in here until they getpast," and Dunk pulled his chum by the arm as they came opposite a darkhallway.
But it was too late. Some of the sporty students had seen the two, andmade a rush for them.
"Come on, Andy!"
"Oh, you, Dunk! Grab him, fellows!"
Immediately the two were surrounded by a gay and laughing throng.
"Bring 'em along!"
"Down to the rathskeller!"
"We'll make a night of it!"
"And we won't go home until morning!"
Thus the gay and festive lads chanted, meanwhile circling about Andy andDunk, who sought in vain to break through. Passersby went on their way,smiling indulgently at the antics of the students.
"Fetch 'em along!" commanded the leader of the "sports."
"Come on!" came the orders, and Andy and Dunk were dragged off toward acertain resort.
"No, we can't go--really!" protested Dunk, holding back.
"We just came out for a glass of soda," insisted Andy, "and we've got toget right back!"
"Oh, yes! That's all right."
"Soda!"
"Listen to him!"
"Regular little goody-goody boys!"
"They were trying to sneak off by themselves and have a good time bytheir
lonesomes!"
And thus the various laughing and disbelieving comments came, one afteranother.
"Bring 'em along with us, and we'll show 'em how to enjoy life!"someone called. "Gaffington will meet us at Paddy's!"
Dunk flashed Andy a signal. It would not do, he knew, to spend thisnight--of all nights--the one before an important game--with this crowdof fun-loving lads. They must get away.
"Look here, fellows!" expostulated Andy, "we really can't come, youknow!"
"That's right," chimed in Dunk. "Let us off this time and maybeto-morrow night----"
"There may never be a to-morrow night!" chanted one of the tormentors."Live while you can, and enjoy yourself. You're a long time dead.To-morrow is no man's time. The present alone is ours. Who said that,fellows? Did I make that up or not? It's blamed good, anyhow. Let's see,what was it? The present----"
"Oh, dry up! You talk too much!" protested one of his companions, with alaugh.
"What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow?" demanded another of Andyand Dunk, who were making more strenuous efforts to get away. "Don't youlove us any more?"
"Sure, better than ever," laughed Andy. "But you know Dunk and I have topitch and catch in the Princeton freshman game to-morrow, and we----"
"Say no more! I forgot about that," exclaimed the leader. "They can't beburning the midnight incandescents. Let 'em go, fellows. And may wehave the honor and pleasure of your company to-morrow night?" he asked,with an elaborate bow.
"If we win--yes," said Dunk.
"It's a bargain, then. Come on, boys, we're late now," and they startedoff.
Andy and Dunk, glad of their escape, flitted around a corner, to be outof sight. A moment later, however, they heard renewed cries and laughterfrom the throng they had just left.
"Now what's up?" asked Dunk. "Are they after us again?"
"Listen!" murmured Andy, looking for a place in which to hide.
Then they heard shouts like these:
"That's the idea!"
"Come on down to the Taft!"
"We'll give the Princeton bunch a cheer that will put the kibosh on themfor to-morrow."
"No, don't go down there," cautioned cooler heads. "We'll only get intoa row. Come on to the rathskeller!"
"No, the Taft!"
"The rathskeller!"
Thus the dispute went on, until those who were opposed to disturbing thePrinceton players had their way, and the crowd moved out of hearing.
"Thank our lucky stars!" murmured Dunk. "Let's get our chocolate andget back to our room."
"I'm with you," said Andy.
"Oh, by the way, isn't there one of your friends on the Princeton team?"asked Dunk, as he and Andy were sipping their chocolate in a drugstore,on a quiet street.
"Yes, Ben Snow. He's with the crowd at the Taft."
"Did you see him?"
"For a little while this evening."
"I reckon he thinks his nine is going to win."
"Naturally," laughed Andy. "The same as we do. But don't let's talkabout it until to-morrow. I've gotten over some of my fit of nerves, andI want to lose it for good."
"Same here. That little run-in did us good."
The two chums were back again in their room, and Andy brought out hiscatching glove, which he proceeded to mend.
Quiet was settling down over the quadrangle and in the dormitories aboutthe big, elm-shaded square. Light after light in the rooms of thestudents went out. In the distant city streets the hum of traffic grewless and less.
It was quiet in the room where Dunk and Andy sat. Now and then, fromsome room would come the tinkle of a piano, or the hum of somesoft-voiced chorus.
"What was that you said about horseshoe nails and bees?" asked Dunk,drowsily, from his corner of the much be-cushioned sofa.
"Forget it," advised Andy, sleepily. "I'm going to turn in. I'm in justthe mood to drowse off now, and I don't want to get roused up."
"Same here, Andy. Say, but I wish it were to-morrow!"
"So do I, old man!"
The room grew more quiet. Only the night wind sighed through the openedwindow, fluttering the blue curtains.
Andy and Dunk were asleep.
The day of the ball game came, as all days do--if you wait long enough.There was a good crowd on the benches and in the grandstand when Andyand his mates came out for practice. Of course it was not like a varsitychampionship contest, but the Princeton nine had brought along some"rooters" and there were songs and cheers from the rival colleges.
"Play ball!" called the umpire, and Andy took his place behind therubber, while Dunk went to the mound. The two chums felt not a littlenervous, for this was their first real college contest, and the resultmeant much for them.
"Here's where the Tiger eats the Bulldog!" cried a voice Andy recognizedas that of Ben Snow. Ben had come on with the Princeton delegation thenight before, and had renewed acquaintance with Andy. They had spentsome time together, Ben and the players stopping at the Hotel Taft.
There was a laugh at Ben's remark, and the Princeton cheer broke forthas Dunk delivered his first ball. Then the game was on.
"Wow! That was a hot one!"
"And he fanned the air!"
"Feed 'em another one like that, Dunk, and you'll have 'em eating out ofyour hand and begging for more!"
Joyous shouts and cheers greeted Dunk's first ball, for the Princetonbatter had missed it cleanly, though he swung at it with all his force.
"Good work!" Andy signaled to his chum, as he sent the ball back. Then,stooping and pawing in the dirt, Andy gave the sign for a high out. Hethought he had detected indications that the batter would be more easilydeceived by such a delivery.
Dunk, glancing about to see that all his supporting players were inposition, shook his head in opposition to Andy's signal. Then he signedthat he would shoot an in-curve.
Andy had his doubts as to the wisdom of this, but it was too late tochange for Dunk was winding up for his delivery. A moment later he sentin the ball with vicious force. Andy had put out his hands to gather itinto his big mitt, but it was not to be.
With a resounding thud the bat met the ball squarely and sent it overcenter field in a graceful ascending curve that bid fair to carry it far.
"Oh, what a pretty one!"
"Right on the nose!"
"Didn't he swat it! Go on, you beggar! Run! Run!"
"Make it a home run!"
The crowd of Princeton adherents had leaped to their feet, and werecheering like mad.
"Go on, old man!"
"Take another base. He can't get it!"
"Go to third!"
"Come on home!"
The centerfielder had been obliged to run back after the far-knockedball. It was seen that he could not possibly get under it, but he mightfield it home in time to save a score.
The runner, going wildly, looked to get a signal from the coach. Hereceived it, in a hasty gesture, telling him to stay at third. Hestayed, panting from his speed, while the Princeton lads kept up theircheering.
"Now will you feed us some more of those hot cross buns?" cried a wag toDunk.
"Make him eat out of the bean trough!"
"He's got a glass arm!"
"Swat it, Kelly! A home run and we'll score two!"
This was cried to the next man up. Dunk looked at Andy and shrugged hisshoulders. His guessing had not been productive of much good to Yale,for the first man had gotten just the kind of a ball he wanted. Dunkmade up his mind to be more wary.
"Play for the runner," Andy signaled to his chum, meaning to make aneffort to kill off the run, and not try to get the batsman out in caseof a hit.
"All right," Dunk signaled back.
"Ball one!" howled the umpire, after the first delivery.
"That's the way! Make him give you a nice one."
"Take your time! Wait for what you want!" This was the advice given thebatter.
And evidently the man at the plate got the sort of ball he wanted, forhe struck at and hit th
e next one--hit it cleanly and fairly, and itsailed out toward left field.
"Get it!" cried the Yale captain.
The fielder was right under it--certainly it looked as though he couldnot miss. The batsman was speeding for first, while the man on third wascoming home, and the crowd was yelling wildly.
Andy had thrown off his mask, and was waiting at home for the ball, tokill off the player speeding in from third.
"Here's where we make a double play!" he exulted, for the man going tofirst had stumbled slightly, and was out of his stride. It looked asthough it could be done. But alas for the hopes of Yale! The fielder gotthe ball fairly in his hands, but whether he was nervous, or whether theball had such speed that it tore through, was not apparent. At any rate,he muffed the fly.
"Good-night!"
"That settles it!"
"Go on, Ranter! Go on, Cooney!"
Coaches, the captain, Princeton players and the crowd of Tigersympathizers were wildly calling to the two runners. And indeed theywere coming on.
Andy groaned. He could not help it. Dunk threw up his hands in a gestureof despair. The fielder, with a gulp and a gone feeling at the pit ofhis stomach, picked up the muffed ball, and threw it to second. It wasthe only play left. And the batsman, who had started to make histwo-bagger, went back to first. But the run had come in.
"That's the way we do it!"
"Come on, fellows, the 'Orange and Black' song!"
"No, the new one! 'Watch the Tiger Claw the Bulldog!'"
The cheer leaders were trying to decide on something with which tocelebrate the drawing of "first blood."
The grandstands were a riot of waving yellow and black, while, on theother side, the blue banners dropped most disconsolately. But it was notfor long.
"Come on, boys!" cried the plucky Yale captain. "That's only one run. Weonly need three out and we'll show 'em what we can do! Every man on thejob! Lively! Play ball!"
Dunk received the horsehide from the second baseman, and began to windup for his next delivery. He narrowly watched the man on first, and oncenearly caught him napping. Several times Dunk threw to the initial sack,in order to get the nerve of the runner. Then he suddenly stung in oneto the man at the plate.
"Strike--one!" yelled the umpire. The batter gave a sign of protest, buthe thought better of any verbal comment.
"That's the way!" cried the Yale captain. "Two more like that, and he'sdown!"
Dunk did it, though the man struck one foul which Andy muffed, much tohis chagrin.
"Give 'em the Boola song!" called a Yale cheer leader, and it wasrousingly sung. This seemed to make the Yale players have moreconfidence, and they were on their mettle. But, though they did theirbest, Princeton scored two more runs, and, with this lead against her,Yale came to the bat.
"Steady all!" counseled the captain. "We're going to win, boys."
But it did not seem so, when the first inning ended with no score forYale. Princeton's pitcher was proving his power, and he was wellsupported. Man after man--some of them Yale's best hitters--went downbefore his arm.
The situation looked desperate. In spite of the frantic cheering of theYale freshmen, it seemed as if her players could not take the necessarybrace.
"Fellows, come here!" yelled the captain, when it came time for Andy andhis chums to take the field after a vain attempt to score. "We've got todo something. Dunk, I want you to strike out a couple of men for achange!"
"I--I'll do it!" cried the pitcher.
Then Dunk pulled himself together, and the Tiger's lead was cut down.Once the game was a tie Yale's chances seemed to brighten, and when shegot a lead of one run in the eighth her cohorts went wild, the standblossoming forth into a waving mass of blue.
This good feeling was further added to when Princeton was shut outwithout a run in the beginning of the ninth, and as Andy, Dunk and theother Yale players came in, having won the game, they received anovation for their victory.
Ikey Stein, sitting in the grandstand near an elderly gentleman, yelled,shouted and stamped his feet at the Yale victory.
"You seem wonderfully exercised about it, my young friend," remarked theelderly gentleman. "Did you have a large wager up on this game?"
"No, sir, but now I can sell two dollars worth of socks," replied Ikey,hurrying off to get Dunk and Andy to redeem their promises.
"Hum, very strange college customs these days--very strange," murmuredthe elderly gentleman, shaking his head.
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