LITMIR.BIZ

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in a disguised hand, but some of the letters looked like Job Haskers's handwriting. In the corner of the paper some sort of an advertisement had been torn off, only the letters, "_blisher_" showing.

      "I think those letters are part of the word, '_Publisher_,'" Dave had said. "This letter was evidently penned by somebody who used some publisher's blank."

      "Maybe Job Haskers had those blanks," Phil had exclaimed. "Remember, he said he published or was going to publish something once upon a time."

      The boys talked it over, but could reach no conclusion. Jason Sparr told how the letter had come to him, but this added no new light on the subject.

      "Well, it was a nasty trick, no matter who played it," said Dave.

      "I sha'n't rest until I find out who did it," retorted Phil.

      All were resolved to watch Job Haskers and also Nat Poole. But while doing this they had to turn once more to their studies. Phil, Ben, and Buster had to work harder than ever, and so did Dave, to make up for the time lost during their absence. But Doctor Clay was kind to them, and for once Job Haskers did not say anything, although he showed that he expected them to "toe the mark," as Roger expressed it.

      Several weeks slipped by, and during that time Oak Hall played several games of ball. One game of importance was won, and this was celebrated in a befitting manner. Dave attended the games, and so did Phil and Roger, but none of the three allowed the sport to interfere with their studies. All were "in the grind," and resolved to graduate that coming June with the highest possible honors.

      During those days Dave received many letters from home. His folks and friends were glad to know that the wild man had been captured and the mystery of the blowing up cleared away. Jessie sent him a very warm letter in particular, congratulating him for bringing back the runaways, and saying she hoped he would have no more trouble during the final term at Oak Hall. She added that she and all the others expected to come to the school at graduation exercises.

      "Now it is up to me to make good," said Dave, after reading this letter several times. "Dad expects it, and Jessie, and everybody, and I am not going to disappoint them."

      But it was no light task to remain at the top of the senior class, or even near it, for there were bright seniors in plenty, including the studious Polly Vane, who seemed the brightest of all. But Dave plugged away, day after day, resolved to keep at it until the very last. He was writing on his theme and had it about half finished.

      "One month more and it will all be over but the shouting," said Roger one day, as he came into the room where Dave was studying.

      "All over but the shouting or weeping," returned Phil, who was present. "I am afraid some of the fellows will do more weeping than cheering," he added, grimly.

      "Let us hope that everybody passes," said Dave, looking up with a quiet smile.

      "Such a thing has never been done," said Ben. "Somebody is bound to drop by the wayside--I hope it isn't yours truly," and he sank his head again into his book.

      "I think old Haskers is commencing to tighten the screws again," said Buster. "He let up for a while, after the wild man was caught, but yesterday and to-day--phew! we caught it, didn't we?"

      "We sure did!" cried Phil. "I can't understand that man. Why is he a teacher when he just naturally hates boys?"

      "That's a conundrum that can't be answered," said the senator's son.

      "Well, we won't weep on leaving him," remarked Luke, dryly.

      "Say, that puts me in mind of a story," said Shadow. "Once on a time a man in an auto ran into a boy carrying a cat in a basket. He didn't hurt the boy much but he killed the cat. Says he, 'I am sorry, my boy, and I'll pay you for the cat. How much?' 'I--I don't know,' blubbered the boy. 'Will two dollars do?' asked the man. 'Yes,' says the boy, and took the money. 'Were you taking the cat home?' asked the man, when he was ready to drive on. 'No,' said the boy. 'I was going to take him down to the canal and drown him!'" And there was a smile over Shadow's yarn.

      It had been a blustery day, and as night came on the wind increased in violence, until it fairly howled around Oak Hall. It tore through the branches of the oaks that gave the place its name, until it looked as if some of the trees might be broken off by the fury of the elements.

      "My gracious! I never saw such a wind!" cried Roger, as he came in from a trip to the gymnasium.

      "It must be fierce at sea," returned Dave, who was with him. "I am glad I am on shore. The newspapers will tell about wrecks along the coast to-morrow."

      Nobody thought of going out that evening, and the boys put in the time studying and reading. The windows rattled, and occasionally a shutter banged, and a good night's rest seemed out of the question.

      "My, what a night for a fire!" remarked Phil, while he and his chums were undressing.

      "Don't mention such a thing!" returned Ben, with a shiver. "It would burn down everything!"

      At last the boys retired. A few dropped off to sleep, but Dave was not one of them. He had studied hard and was restless, and the fury of the elements added to his nervousness.

      At last he could stand it no longer to remain in bed, and got up to sit in an easy-chair for awhile.

      He was just crossing the dormitory floor when there came an extra heavy blast of wind outside, followed by a crash, as one of the giant oaks standing close to the school building was broken off near the top. Then came another crash, a jingling of glass, and a sudden wild cry for help.

      "Hello, something's gone through a window!" Dave muttered. "Maybe it's in the next room!"

      He ran to the window and looked out. Just below the window-sill he saw some branches of the broken tree. He looked down and noted that the tree-top had gone into the window of the room below.

      "What's the row?" cried Roger, springing up and rubbing his eyes.

      "Is the roof caving in?" asked Phil.

      "Some tree-branches came down and went through the window right below us," answered Dave. "Listen!"

      All did so, and heard the cry for help repeated.

      "It's Job Haskers calling!" said the senator's son. "He uses the room below us now."

      "Let us see if he is hurt," suggested another of the boys.

      Clad in their pajamas, the boys flocked out into the hallway, there to be joined by others. Word was passed around of what had occurred, and all made their way to the door of the instructor's apartment. They heard him yelling for help with all his might.

      The door was locked, and Dave and some others put their shoulders to the barrier and forced it open. All was dark in the room, and the wind was rushing around, sending books, pictures, and other things in all directions.

      Several matches were struck, and at last a sheltered light was lit. Doctor Clay, Mr. Dale, and some of the other teachers had now arrived, and instructors and students gazed curiously at the scene before them.

      The top of the tree had come straight through the big window of the apartment, crashing down on a bureau and a writing-desk, smashing both flat. Some branches of the tree rested on the side of the bed, pinning Job Haskers against the wall, as if in a cage.

      "Help me! Save me!" spluttered the terror-stricken teacher. "I am being crushed to death!"

      "All hands to the tree!" shouted Mr. Dale, and showed what he meant. Boys and men took hold of the tree-branches and pulled them to one side.

      "Are you much hurt, Mr. Haskers?" asked Doctor Clay, kindly.

      "I--I don't know, I think so!" gasped the teacher. His face was white and

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