“Study like blazes!” was Teeter’s next order.
There came a knock at the door.
“Young gentlemen have you any visitors?” demanded the ominous voice of Professor Rodd.
Teeter placed the ends of the rubber tubes one in each of two glasses before Joe could answer.
“I heard voices in there—more than two voices,” went on the Latin instructor grimly, “and I demand that you open the door before I send for Dr. Fillmore and the janitor.”
Tom slid to the portal and unlocked it. Professor Rodd stepped into the room and his stern gaze took in the two visitors. But he also saw something else that surprised him.
On the table was apparatus that very much resembled some used for experiments in the physics class. And, wonder of wonders, each of the four lads held a book in his hand—a book that the merest glance showed to be either a Latin grammar or a treatise on chemistry.
“What—why——?” faltered the professor.
“Aliqui—aliquare—aliqua,” recited Teeter in a sing-song declension voice. “Aliquorum—aliquarum—aliquorum.” Then he pretended to look up suddenly, as if just aware of the presence of the instructor.
“Oh, good evening, Professor Rodd,” said Teeter calmly.