LITMIR.BIZ

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Job Haskers came from the Hall with a small packet in his hand. The boys watched from some side windows and saw him leap into the cutter. He took up the reins.

      "Get ap!" he chirped to the horse, and gave a quick jerk on the lines.

      The steed did as bidden and began to move out of the shafts of the cutter. At first Job Haskers could not believe the evidence of his eyesight.

      "Hi! hold up!" he yelled. "What the mischief! Who did----" And then his remarks came to a sudden end. He tried to hold the horse back, but could not, and in a twinkling he was dragged over the dashboard and landed head first in the snow of the road. Then the horse, no doubt startled at the unusual proceedings, started off on a trot, dragging the teacher after him.

      "Whoa, I say! Whoa there!" spluttered Job Haskers. "Whoa!" and he tried to regain his feet, only to plunge down once more, this time on his face. Then he let go the reins and the horse trotted off, coming to a halt near the campus gateway.

      If ever there was an angry man that individual was Job Haskers. He had intended to make an evening call on some ladies, and had spent considerable time over his toilet. Now his beautiful expanse of white shirt front was wet and mussed up and he had a goodly quantity of snow down his back.

      "Who did this? Who did this?" he cried, dancing around in his rage. "Oh, if I only catch the boy who did this, I will punish him well for it."

      He looked around sharply, and at that moment a student chanced to come around the corner of the Hall, on the way to the gymnasium building. Job Haskers leaped towards him and caught him roughly by the shoulder.

      "Ha! I have you, you young imp!" he cried. "How dare you do such a thing to me! How dare you!" And he shook the boy as a dog shakes a rat.

      "St--top!" spluttered the pupil, in consternation and alarm. "Stop, I say! I--I---- Oh, Mr. Haskers, let up, please! Don't shake me to pieces!"

      "Well, I never!" whispered Dave to Phil and Roger.

      "Who is it?"

      "Nat Poole."

      "Oh my! but he's catching it right enough," chuckled the senator's son.

      "Will unharness my horse!" went on Job Haskers. "Will throw me on my head in the snow! Oh, you imp!" And he continued to shake poor Nat until the latter's teeth rattled.

      "I--I won't stand this!" cried Nat at last, and struck out blindly, landing a blow on the teacher's ear.

      "Ha! so you dare to strike me!" spluttered Job Haskers. "I--I----"

      "Let go! I haven't done anything!" roared Nat. "Let go, or I'll kick!"

      Now, the assistant teacher did not fancy being kicked, so he dropped his hold and Nat Poole speedily retreated to a safe distance.

      "You unharnessed my horse----" began Job Haskers.

      "I never touched your horse--I don't know anything about your horse," exploded Nat.

      "Didn't I catch you?"

      "I just came from the library. I left a pair of skates in the gym., and I was going to get them. I've been in the library for half an hour," went on the dude of the school. "It's an outrage the way you've treated me. I am going to report it to Doctor Clay." And he started for the front door of the school.

      "Wait! Stop!" called Job Haskers, in sudden alarm. "Do you mean to say you know absolutely nothing about this?"

      "No, I don't."

      "Somebody came out here while I was in the Hall and unharnessed the horse."

      "Well, it wasn't me, and you had no right to pounce on me as you did," grumbled Nat Poole. "I am going to report it to Doctor Clay."

      "Stop! I--er--if I made a mistake, Poole, I am sorry for it," said the teacher, in a more subdued tone. "Have you any idea who could have played this trick on me?"

      "No, and I don't care," snorted the dudish pupil. "I am going to report to the doctor and see if he will allow an innocent pupil to be handled like a tramp." And off marched Nat Poole, just as angry as Job Haskers.

      "Good for Nat," whispered Phil. "I hope he does report old Haskers."

      "We must look out that we are not caught," answered Dave. "How funny it did look when Haskers went over the dashboard!" And he laughed merrily.

      The boys took themselves to a safe place in the lower hallway. They saw Nat Poole come in and march straight for Doctor Clay's office. The master of the Hall was in, and an animated discussion lasting several minutes took place. Then the doctor came out to interview Job Haskers, who in the meantime had caught the horse and was hooking him up once more.

      "Mr. Haskers, what does this mean?" asked the doctor, in rather a cold tone. "Master Poole says you attacked him and shook him without provocation."

      "Somebody has been playing a trick on me--I thought it was Poole," was the reply, and the teacher told what had happened. "Just look at that shirt, and my back is full of snow!"

      The doctor looked and was inclined to smile. But he kept a straight face.

      "Certainly nobody had a right to play such a trick," said he. "But you shouldn't punish Poole for what he didn't do. You are altogether too hasty at times, Mr. Haskers."

      "Am I? Well, perhaps; but some of the boys here need a club, and need it badly, too!"

      "I do not agree with you. They like a little fun, but that is only natural. Occasionally they go a little too far, but I do not look to a clubbing as a remedy."

      "I wish I could find out who played this trick on me."

      "Don't you think you owe Poole an apology?"

      "An apology?" gasped Job Haskers. Such a thing had never occurred to him.

      "Yes. You are certainly in the wrong."

      "I'll apologize to nobody," snapped the teacher.

      "Well, after this you be more careful as to how you attack my students," said Doctor Clay, severely. "Otherwise, I shall have to ask you to resign your position."

      Some sharp words followed, and in the end Job Haskers drove off feeling decidedly humble. He could not afford to throw up his contract with the doctor, and he was afraid that the latter might demand his resignation. But he was very angry, and the discovery of the ice and snow in the cutter, later on, did not tend to make his temper any sweeter.

      "I'll find out who did this!" he muttered to himself. "And when I do, I'll fix him, as sure as my name is Job Haskers." But he never did find out; and there the incident came to an end. The boys thought they had had fun enough for one night, and so did not watch for the teacher's return to Oak Hall.

      CHAPTER VIII

      A MYSTERIOUS LETTER

      In the morning mail Gus Plum received a letter postmarked London which he read with much interest. Then he called on Dave.

      "I've just received a letter I want you to read," he said. "It is from Nick Jasniff, and he mentions you." And he handed over the communication.

      It was a long rambling epistle, upbraiding Plum roundly for "having gone back on him," as Jasniff put it. The writer said he was now "doing Europe" and having a good time generally. One portion of the letter read as follows:

      "The authorities needn't look for me, for they will never find me. I struck a soft thing over here and am about seventy pounds to the good. Tell Dave Porter I could tell him something he would like to hear--about his folks--but I am not going to do it. I don't think he'll meet that father of his just yet, or that pretty sister of his either. She'd be all right

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