“But this letter says they are guilty.”
“Lock ’em up and make ’em confess!” broke in the constable. “Give ’em the third degree!” he added. He had read something of how city criminals were occasionally treated and he wished to air his knowledge.
“I’ll do it!” cried Jason Spar. “I’ll show ’em they can’t insult me and take away my trade and then try to blow up my hotel! I’ll have ’em all locked up! Then we can examine ’em one by 167 one, and get ’em tangled up and make ’em confess.”
After much trouble, the warrants for the arrest of Phil, Ben, Dave, Roger, and Buster were made out. The constable wanted to serve them at once, but it was decided at the last moment to wait until the next morning, to see if any new evidence regarding the crime might be forthcoming.
The constable went home, sworn to secrecy, but he had to tell his wife and her sister of the affair, and the news got to the ears of a man who boarded with them. This fellow, who was named Andy Prime, chanced to know Dave quite well, our hero having once done him a favor. Early in the morning Prime drove past the school, and seeing Dave on the campus, hailed him.
“Come over here, I want to tell you something, Porter,” said Prime, mysteriously.
“What do you want?” asked Dave, good-naturedly.
“Ride a bit with me, will you? I don’t want nobody to hear us,” went on the man, lowering his voice.
Wondering what was coming, Dave got up on the seat of the man’s wagon and they drove to the far end of the Oak Hall grounds. There Andy Prime told of all he had learned.
“Please don’t say I told ye!” he pleaded. “It 168 might git me in trouble. But you did me a good turn onct an’ I ain’t forgot it.”