In the second row there rose a round, boy-faced man with a pompadour, who, after clearing his throat, began:
"It would seem to me, gentlemen, that we are on the wrong track; what? It would seem to me that there is a way—a sure way—of apprehending the villains who seem to have worsted our young friend, Mr. Catherwood; what?"
Every man in the room leaned forward, and again the hush became awesome.
"And it is?" observed the dean, very soberly.
"That we compare the handwriting of that note with all the students' signatures in our possession; what?"
There ensued a general exchange of puzzled looks and then the dean exclaimed:
"A very good idea, my dear professor—oh—ah—a most ingenious idea; but—oh—ah—would you be willing to undertake to make the suggested comparisons?"
"Well I thought the clerks in the registrar's office might——"
"Very good—very good!" said the dean—"I believe there are about thirty-five hundred such signatures—oh—ah—quite a week's work for the entire office force—quite——"