"Not much—I couldn't study a thing!" cried Tom.
"I know what I am going to do," replied Dick. "I am going to take that early train home, and see Uncle Rudolph. I'll send another message to that hotel manager, too, and then, unless we get word that everything is O. K., I'm going to New York as fast as I can get there."
"And I'll go along!" cried each of the two brothers.
"Yes, that might be best—for if he is still missing we may have a great task to learn what became of him. We'll have to hunt the hospitals, and the police headquarters, and the—the——" Dick was going to add "morgue," but he could not bring himself to utter the word. It was too awful to think that their father might be dead.
"We'll have to explain to Doctor Wallington, or Professor Blackie," said Tom.
"And send word to the girls," added Sam.
"I don't want to worry anybody more than I have to," said Dick. "This may turn out all right after all," he added. But he had his doubts. That something unusual had happened to his father he was certain.
The boys spent some little time in packing their suitcases with such things as they deemed necessary for the trip, and then turned out the lights and went to bed. But none of them slept well. All tumbled and tossed on their couches, trying in vain to solve the mystery that surrounded the disappearance of their parent.
They were up an hour earlier than usual, and it was Dick who took the liberty to knock on the door of the head of the institution.
"Who is it?" asked the worthy doctor, and the young collegian told him. A moment later the head of the college appeared, wrapped in a dressing gown.