“Yes, and the lad who put the smoke bomb in the furnace room! A fine chap to keep things straight!”
“Oh, well, you don’t have to believe me!” said Morse, with an air of injured innocence that ill became him.
“They evidently don’t,” commented Tom dryly.
“Say, what was the row about just before I came back with that horse?” asked Morse, as though he wanted to change the subject.
“Snowball and old Skeel,” explained Tom briefly. “It was sort of a case of a perfectly irresistible force coming in contact with a perfectly immovable body—but not quite,” and he went more into the details of the accident on the ice.
“Humph! He must have been pretty mad,” commented Morse.
“He was. Threatened arrest and all that. But Tom calmed him down,” said Jack with a chuckle. “I guess Skeel didn’t want to see the police very badly.”
“What gets me, though,” spoke George, in his perpetually questioning voice, “was what Skeel was doing around here.”
“I’d like to know that myself,” voiced Tom. But he was not to know until later, and then to his sorrow.
As the group of lads progressed, they were joined, from time to time, by other students from Elmwood, who had been out enjoying the day either by skating, coasting or sledding, and it was a merry party that approached the gate, or main entrance to the grounds, passing through the quadrangle of main buildings, and scattering to their various dormitories.