“I say, Tom,” hailed Jack from a distance, as he came running up. “What are we to do? There’s a notice posted, saying we are to go to Latin recitation to Professor Hammond, temporarily, and then afterward the Freshmen are to meet Doctor Meredith and Professor Skeel. That looks as if we hadn’t won after all. The boys are anxious.”
“I’ll be with them in a little while,” answered Tom. “It’s all right. We win the strike all right, only things have to be adjusted formally I suppose. But I’ll say this. I’ll never apologize to Skeel, and he’s got to promise to be decent, or the strike will begin all over again.”
“Hurray! That’s the stuff!” cried Jack. “That’s what we want to know. But aren’t you coming to the lecture?”
“In a little while—yes. I’ve got something else on hand now, Jack.”
“All right!” called his chum, knowingly. “I’m on. See you later,” and he ran off. Jack turned to Bruce.
Over the face of the Senior had come a curious change. His trouble seemed to have vanished.
“Tom—Tom Fairfield!” he exclaimed. “You’ve done me a service I can never repay. Look here, this is a forgery!”
“A forgery?” asked the amazed Freshman.
“Yes, that’s never my signature to that promissory note! In fact, the whole note is forged. It’s a little like my writing, but I know I never signed it. Say, I’m free, now!”
“You’d better tell me more about it,” suggested our hero. “If I’m to have it out with Skeel for you, I’d better know all the facts.”