“I sure do. But you want to be certain of your proof against him before you accuse him!”
“I will,” declared Tom. “I’ll do a bit of detective work.”
But he had no clews to work on, and, though he was sure his enemy had made him and the others suffer, he could prove nothing, for the paper in which the powder was wrapped was blank.
[CHAPTER XI]
A CLASS WARNING
“Well, if any of you young gentlemen have any more powder to scatter around, you had better do it, and have done with it,” remarked Professor Skeel a day or so later, when Tom and his chums came in to recite. “Only if you do,” he added sarcastically, “the punishment I meted out before will be doubled, and, in case the offense is repeated a third time, I will go on doubling the task, if necessary in arithmetical progression.”
He looked at the lads, with a sneering smile on his face. There were mutterings of discontent from all, save perhaps Sam Heller, for the lads felt not only the injustice of the uncalled-for remarks, but the former punishment still rankled in their minds.
“No one seems inclined to take advantage of my offer,” went on Professor Skeel, “so we will go on with the lesson. Fairfield, you may begin. We’ll see if you are prepared.”