“Sure. Well, I’m going to rummage for the bat,” and Andy, thinking of many things, went down the corridor to the large closet that was used as a store room by the students.
It was more filled than before with many things, and Andy had some difficulty in locating the bat. Finally he found it away down in a corner, under an old football suit, and drew it out. As he did so something fell to the closet floor with a clang of metal.
“I wonder what that was?” mused Andy. “It sounded like——” He did not finish the thought, but made his way to the far end of the closet. It was dark there, but, groping around, his fingers touched something hard, round, smooth and cold. With trembling hand Andy drew it out, and when the single electric light in the center of the storeroom fell upon it Andy uttered a cry of surprise.
“Frank’s silver cup!” he cried. “The thief hid it in there! I wonder if the book’s here, too?”
He made a hasty but unsuccessful search and then, with the bat and cup, he hurried to the room where Dunk awaited him.
“What’s up?” demanded Dunk, as Andy fairly burst into the room.
“Frank Carr’s silver cup! Where’d you get it?”
“In the closet where Mortimer Gaffington hid it!”
“Mortimer Gaffington?” gasped Dunk. “You mean——”