"They can't get here until the five o'clock train, now," declared Morse. "You've got time enough to go to town and be back again. Come ahead."
"All right," assented Tom. "Wait until I get the porter to fetch my trunk from the station."
The check having been given to the porter, Tom and his chum strolled toward the trolley line that would take them into the small city of Elmwood.
"Here comes the human interrogation point!" exclaimed Morse, when they were almost at the trolley line.
"I thought he wasn't coming back to school," remarked Tom, looking around.
"He did say he wasn't, but I guess his folks made him. He wanted to branch out for himself and be a lawyer, I believe. He sure would be great on cross-examining witnesses with the way he asks questions," finished Morse with a laugh.
A small lad was approaching the two friends on the run, and, as he neared them, he called out:
"Hello, Morse! Say, Tom Fairfield, when did you get in? Did you have
a good time? I hear you went camping and discovered a hidden treasure.
Did it amount to much? How much did you get? Where's Jack and Bert?
Are you going in for football? Where are you rooming?"
Tom and Morse came to a stop. They eyed each other solemnly. Then Tom said gravely:
"Isn't it a shame; and he's so young, too!"