“Come on, fork it over, whoever took it!” demanded Tom. “Some of you have it. Caesar’s side-saddles! A fellow can’t have anything decent here any more! I’m going to have locks put on my bureau!”
“What do you want of that tan-colored tie, anyhow?” asked Sid.
“Oh, so you’re the guilty one!” cried Tom. “I’ll get it,” and he strode over to his chum’s bureau, where, from a drawer, after a short search, he pulled the missing tie.
“All crumpled up, too!” he exclaimed, as he looked at it ruefully. “I’ll fix you for this, Sid.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to muss it so. I just borrowed it to wear the other night, and we got to skylarking, and——”
“Skylarking with a girl!” cried Frank aghast. “Say, you are going some, Sid.”
“Oh, I only tried to——”
“Kiss her—I know,” went on Frank relentlessly. “You ought to be given the ‘silence.’ But in view of the fact that there are mitigating circumstances, and that you wore another fellow’s tie, we will suspend sentence. But don’t let it occur again. Now about this glad-rag affair.”
“That’s it,” broke in Phil. “I don’t see why Tom made such a fuss about that tie. He can’t wear it to the dance, anyhow.”
“Why not? Is it a full-dress affair?” asked the owner of the tan scarf, as he carefully smoothed it out.