"He will have to sleep it off," answered Professor Blackie. "Too bad! Too bad! Why will young men do such things?" And he shook his head sorrowfully.
"I believe what the note said. This has been a regular hangout for the Rovers and their chums," said Professor Sharp severely. "It is high time it was broken up."
"Yes yes," answered the other instructor How shall we—er—get them back to Brill?"
"I'll see about that. They must have some sort of a carriage here, or maybe somebody was going to call for them."
"Shall I take a look around?"
"If you will."
Professor Blackie looked around the house and grounds and then went through the tangle of a garden to the roadway. He espied Songbird coming along, driving the team rapidly and singing to himself. Songbird had passed an all-too-short hour with Minnie Sanderson.
"Stop, Powell!" cried the professor.
"I was going to, sir," answered the would-be poet cheerily. "How is this, Professor Blackie? Did you come to hunt for the ghost, too?"
"Ghost? I came for no ghosts—since there are no ghosts," was the quiet answer. "Were you to stop here?"