“Huh! Some of those fellows are mighty smart, putting these boxes in my room!” growled Codfish to himself. “I’d just like to know who did it! If it was that Spouter Powell, I think I’ll go and tell on him!”
“Here is where I got in fine!” murmured Spouter.
Codfish glanced further, and his eyes fell on the interior of the closet of the room, the door to which stood wide open. Then he gave a gasp.
“My gracious! if they haven’t taken all my clothing, and my hats, and even my shoes!” he groaned. “This is the worst yet!” He rushed to the closet, and another look convinced him that the place was entirely empty. Then he ran to a corner where stood a clothes tree, which had contained some of his athletic outfit. This was likewise empty. Then he rushed to his chiffonier.
“Gone! Everything gone! Not a thing left!” he groaned. “Oh, if this isn’t the worst yet! If I don’t tell on somebody for this!”
Coming back to the middle of the room, he surveyed the pile of boxes suspiciously. Then a sheet of paper resting on the top box claimed his attention.
“’For anything that is missing look in the boxes,’” he read from the slip of paper. “Oh, dear! I suppose those fellows were just mean enough to stuff all my things in those packing cases. I wonder what they did that for? Maybe they thought they were going to cart them down to the bonfire and burn them up, and burn all my stuff, too. Just wait and see if I don’t fix somebody for this!”
There was rather a small box on top of the others, and this Codfish started to open first. One end of the lid was nailed down, but the other was loose, and he pulled up on this with vigor.
And then the sneak got the first of a series of surprises. The lid of the box held down a large rubber frog, and this bounced out of the box, hitting him full in the face. He staggered back and fell over on his bed.
“Hurrah! First round!” whispered Andy delightedly.