“Just what do you mean?” demanded Frank quietly, half rising in his chair, while Tom laid a hand on him in restraint.
“Oh,” went on Harry easily, “I thought maybe you fellows might have taken our trophies——”
“Hold on!” cried Frank, and he arose with such suddenness that his chair overturned. Tom arose also, and clung to the arm of the Big Californian, whispering rapidly:
“Quiet, Frank. Keep quiet! Don’t have a row here!”
“In a joke!” finished Harry Cedstrom with an attempt at a smile. There was a dead silence in the groups of students.
[CHAPTER V]
THE CLUE
Frank Simpson stared at the Boxer Hall lad for a moment, and then sank back in the chair which Sid Henderson had replaced for him. Harry seemed to breathe easier, and certainly there were looks of relief on the faces of his companions.
“A joke?” repeated Frank, grimly. “Well, if that is your idea of a joke, all I have to say is that your early education was sadly neglected. Fellows, I guess it’s my treat. Some more of those seltzer lemonades, waiter,” and turning his back, with studied indifference, on the Boxer Hall lads, Frank began to chat with his friends.