"It did have," remarked Jack Sanderson significantly, "but we've found some sound wood that we're grafting on," and he motioned to Frank and Andy, who, at that moment, were telling one of their chums about the joke on Mr. Callum.
"And where did you leave him?" Frank was asked.
"Up in the barn, hunting for us. Has any one seen him since?"
"I just saw him going to his room," answered the lad who was late to supper. "He looked as if he'd been run over by an automobile on a dusty road."
"That's him all right," asserted Andy. "But come on, Frank, I want to get off these old togs," for the lads were still in the clothes they had used at the football game.
The two brothers were walking along the corridor leading to their rooms when they were surprised to see some one coming from their apartment.
"Who's that?" whispered Andy. There was no need for his brother to answer, for a moment later they saw that it was Mr. Callum. He was a sorry-looking object, though he had succeeded in getting rid of most of the chaff. At the sight of our heroes he stopped short and stared at them.
"I'm going to laugh!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper.
"Don't you dare!" cautioned Frank. "Sneeze. Sneeze, I tell you!"
Andy pulled out his handkerchief with a flourish and applied it to his face preparatory to uttering a loud "A-ker-choo!" But there was no need to imitate a sneeze, for instantly the air was filled with a white cloud of dust which, getting up the noses of the two boys, as well as that of the professor, caused a chorus of exclamations.