It had been a blustery day, and as night came on the wind increased in violence, until it fairly howled around Oak Hall. It tore through the branches of the oaks that gave the place its name, until it looked as if some of the trees might be broken off by the fury of the elements.
“My gracious! I never saw such a wind!” cried Roger, as he came in from a trip to the gymnasium.
“It must be fierce at sea,” returned Dave, who was with him. “I am glad I am on shore. The newspapers will tell about wrecks along the coast to-morrow.”
Nobody thought of going out that evening, and the boys put in the time studying and reading. The windows rattled, and occasionally a shutter 283 banged, and a good night’s rest seemed out of the question.
“My, what a night for a fire!” remarked Phil, while he and his chums were undressing.
“Don’t mention such a thing!” returned Ben, with a shiver. “It would burn down everything!”
At last the boys retired. A few dropped off to sleep, but Dave was not one of them. He had studied hard and was restless, and the fury of the elements added to his nervousness.
At last he could stand it no longer to remain in bed, and got up to sit in an easy-chair for awhile.
He was just crossing the dormitory floor when there came an extra heavy blast of wind outside, followed by a crash, as one of the giant oaks standing close to the school building was broken off near the top. Then came another crash, a jingling of glass, and a sudden wild cry for help.
“Hello, something’s gone through a window!” Dave muttered. “Maybe it’s in the next room!”