LITMIR.BIZ

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Ben and the money-lender's son, and the latter got a black eye in consequence.

      "You sha'n't say I did it--or had anything to do with it," said Ben, when Nat backed away, having had enough of the battle.

      "Humph! just wait till the law has its say!" retorted Nat. "Then maybe you'll get what is coming to you!"

      Some of the boys wanted to go to town--to see the damaged hotel--but Doctor Clay would not permit this. In the meantime the wreckage was being cleared away, and the authorities and Jason Sparr were doing their best to locate the author or authors of the crime.

      Then came a great surprise, in the shape of a letter delivered in a mysterious way to the hotel-keeper. He was seated in the hotel office in the evening, talking to one of the town constables, when a missive was hurled at him through an open window. He dodged at first, fearing more dynamite, but when he saw it was only a letter, he picked it up and turned it over. It was addressed to him and marked "Private and Personal."

      "Wonder what this is?" he mused, and walked over to the light to read the letter. It was written on a single sheet of paper, in lead pencil, and evidently in a disguised hand. It contained but a few lines, as follows:

      "If you want to catch the fellows who blew up your hotel have these boys of Oak Hall school arrested at once, Philip Lawrence, Benj. Basswood, David Porter, Roger Morr, and Joseph Beggs. They were together when it was done, and one or more of them surely did it.

      "One Who Knows." The hotel-keeper read this letter several times and then stuffed it into his pocket. Then he went into the next room and drew from a drawer several things wrapped up in a newspaper.

      "I am going down to see the squire," he said, to the constable. "You can come along, if you want to."

      "What was in the letter?"

      "The names of the rascals who blew up my hotel."

      "What! You don't mean it, Jason!"

      "Yes, I do."

      "Who sent the letter?"

      "That's a secret. But come on, we'll talk it over with Squire Thompson. Ain't no time to waste." And then the hotel man went off to interview the leading legal light of the town.

      The conference at the squire's office lasted the best part of two hours. At this Jason Sparr produced the contents of the package, several things picked up near the hotel at the time of the explosion--a tan glove, somewhat worn, two iron rings, an empty paper box marked, "L." in one corner, a whip handle, and a clock-like contrivance which had been used to set off the dynamite. He told of his trouble with Phil and his chums, of the threats made, and produced the letter received so mysteriously.

      "Looks kind of plain to me, Squire," he said. "Don't you think so?"

      "It isn't for me to say," replied the squire, cautiously. "But if you want to swear out warrants for those boys' arrest----"

      "Ain't I justified?"

      "Sure you are," put in the constable, who happened to be the squire's brother-in-law. "I wouldn't waste no time on it." He thought he saw in this a job for himself, with some fat fees.

      "If you have them arrested, you've got to prove your case," said Squire Thompson, slowly. "It's a serious business, Sparr."

      "But this letter says they are guilty."

      "Lock 'em up and make 'em confess!" broke in the constable. "Give 'em the third degree!" he added. He had read something of how city criminals were occasionally treated and he wished to air his knowledge.

      "I'll do it!" cried Jason Spar. "I'll show 'em they can't insult me and take away my trade and then try to blow up my hotel! I'll have 'em all locked up! Then we can examine 'em one by one, and get 'em tangled up and make 'em confess."

      After much trouble, the warrants for the arrest of Phil, Ben, Dave, Roger, and Buster were made out. The constable wanted to serve them at once, but it was decided at the last moment to wait until the next morning, to see if any new evidence regarding the crime might be forthcoming.

      The constable went home, sworn to secrecy, but he had to tell his wife and her sister of the affair, and the news got to the ears of a man who boarded with them. This fellow, who was named Andy Prime, chanced to know Dave quite well, our hero having once done him a favor. Early in the morning Prime drove past the school, and seeing Dave on the campus, hailed him.

      "Come over here, I want to tell you something, Porter," said Prime, mysteriously.

      "What do you want?" asked Dave, good-naturedly.

      "Ride a bit with me, will you? I don't want nobody to hear us," went on the man, lowering his voice.

      Wondering what was coming, Dave got up on the seat of the man's wagon and they drove to the far end of the Oak Hall grounds. There Andy Prime told of all he had learned.

      "Please don't say I told ye!" he pleaded. "It might git me in trouble. But you did me a good turn onct an' I ain't forgot it."

      "Thank you, Prime, I won't tell who told me," answered Dave.

      "Thet old skinflint o' a Sparr deserved to have his buildin' blown up."

      "Perhaps. But we didn't do it, I can assure you of that. If Mr. Sparr has us arrested, he'll get in hot water," answered our hero; and then he got out of the wagon and Andy Prime drove on.

      Dave at once carried the news to those immediately concerned. All were very indignant, and some were scared.

      "Say, I won't stand for being arrested!" cried Phil, in horror. "It's too much of a disgrace!"

      "My folks would never get over it," added Ben.

      "It would just about kill my mother, if I was locked up," came from Buster.

      "Well, I'll stand it if I have to," said Roger. "But I'll make that fellow suffer for it later!" he added, bitterly.

      All thoughts of going to school that morning were abandoned by the five boys. They talked the situation over, and determined to go down the road and await the arrival of the constable, Andy Prime having said that Hickson would come by ten o'clock.

      "This is awful!" gasped Phil, shaking his head dolefully. "Say, Dave, I can't stand it!"

      "Wait until we hear what the constable has to say."

      "He won't say anything--he'll just drag us to the Oakdale lockup!" put in Ben.

      "I wonder what my dad will say to that, when he hears of it?" murmured Roger. "The newspapers are bound to make a spread of it. 'Son of a U. S. Senator Jailed for Blowing Up a Hotel!' or something like that. Oh, it makes me sick!"

      Plainly the majority of the students were very nervous. The only one who kept calm was Dave, and even he was much disturbed. All walked along the road, keeping a sharp eye out for the appearance of Paul Hickson.

      "Here he comes!" cried Phil, as a covered wagon came along the road, driven by the keeper of the Oakdale jail. On the front seat beside the driver were the constable and Jason Sparr.

      "Hi, you boys!" shouted the constable, as the wagon came closer. "I want to see you!"

      "What do you want?" demanded Dave, stepping to the front.

      "We want you, for one!" cried the hotel-keeper. "Be careful, Hickson, that none of 'em get away!" he added.

      "I don't know one from tudder," said the constable, doubtfully.

      "This is just the bunch we are after, unless I am mistaken," went on the hotel man. "That is Lawrence there, and Basswood, and this is Porter, and I think that is Morr," and he pointed to the various students.

      "Good

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