“No, it’s about those musty old manuscripts that got spoiled the time Professor Hardee slipped on his doorsteps in the red paint.”
“What about ’em?” demanded Joe, thinking of the time he had seen Weston slipping into his room, trying to conceal his hand on which was a scarlet smear. “What’s new?”
“Why, it seems that some learned high-brow society wrote on to borrow them, to prove or disprove something that happened in the time of Moses, and they had to be refused as the sheepskins are illegible. The powers that be tried to clean off the paint, but it took some of the lettering with it, and Prof. Hardee and some of his friends are wild over the loss. The News says it’s irreparable, and there’s even an editorial on it.”
“Well, that isn’t much that’s new,” went on Joe, as he took the college paper which Jimmie held out to him. “It was known before that the parchments were pretty well on the blink. It’s a shame, too, for they are the only ones in the world of that particular dynasty. What else?”
“Lots,” went on Jimmie. “The News hints that a committee of Seniors is working with Professor Hardee and some of the faculty, trying to find out who was responsible. If they do find out they may make the joker’s folks pay heavy damages.”
“Yes, if they find out,” put in Spike. “But it happened some time ago, and they haven’t got a hint of it yet. It was a mean trick—I’ll say that—but there are no welchers or squealers at Yale.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” murmured Jimmie.
“What do you mean?” asked Joe quickly.
“Why this screed goes on to hint that the investigators have a line on who did it. They have some clews, it seems, and an exposure is hinted at.”