“Well, who——?” began Bill.
“Ah, say not that question,” said Tony. “Do not you know? Is there a doubt; even one? I have no enemy in the school but one, and who else——”
“Oh, sure, anyone but friendly, innocent Bill would know. Malatesta, of course.”
Gus was ready with short cuts to names as well as to problems, his genius for detection having been proved in a like instance, before this. He went over and picked up a hammer, holding it by the head and scanning the handle.
“Here, I suppose, are some thumb prints,” he said; “it only remains for us to get hold of——”
Gus was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a member of the senior class, Jim Lambert, who had but a few days before completed a crystal radio set in the shop. He gazed about him.
“About as I thought. This is rotten, fellows, and if I know anything, it is going to be paid for.”
“Who will—?” began Bill.
“Let me tell you. I room right above here, as you know. Late last night, very late, probably toward morning, I was wakened by a noise. I listened and heard the sound of a blow that was surely down here. Then I heard some more noises, muffled, though,—the floor, you know, is fire-proofed and thick. I didn’t wake Smith, but I got up and went to the door and looked out. I hadn’t been there two minutes before I was aware that someone came up out of the basement and was standing in the hall. I think he must have suspected something, for he came along toward my door and I got inside and closed it, with my hand on the knob so as not to click the latch. Then I felt a pressure on the door—the fellow had the nerve to try it. He wanted to see if it was open, probably thinking it was left ajar and he may have seen the light from the window, pulled it open then and there he was—pretty much through the door before I closed it. Well, I just surprised, I guess.”
“Who, who?” from Bill.