“That’ll be all right. Who do you think it was?”
“Dutch Housenlager!” declared Tom.
“He doesn’t room up there,” retorted Phil.
“Well, he may have slipped in some room up there to throw me off,” said Tom.
“More likely it was Jerry Jackson,” was Frank’s opinion. “He was poking fun at the clock yesterday.”
“As long as he doesn’t poke anything more than fun at it, all right,” said Phil. “We’re the only ones licensed to use toothpicks and battle-axes on it.”
“Poor old clock,” sighed Sid. “It does get abused, but still it is a faithful friend. Remember the time that duffer—what was his name—took out some of the wheels to make some machine he was crazy over? Remember that?”
“I should say so!” exclaimed Tom. “But this chap wasn’t satisfied with a single wheel—he wanted the whole works. I wonder who it could be?”
“I shouldn’t wonder but what the Snail had a hand in this,” opined Phil. “He’s so fond of roaming about nights.”
“He stays over in the North dormitory now,” declared Frank. “Besides, he wouldn’t get in here at this hour of the morning—at least I think it must be near morning. The doors are locked after hours, you know. No, it was someone from here all right, who took that clock.”