Queen's School took the disbarment of Frank Armstrong and Jimmy Turner from athletics as a serious blow to their chances in baseball and on the track. Even the Gamma Tau boys, who bore no particularly kindly feeling toward these two, missed their strengthening presence—or at least they seemed to. There were some who, whatever they might have said before the School, inwardly rejoiced that "these disturbers of the peace" had been neatly shelved by Old Pop-Eye. Chip Dixon was among the latter. He could never repress a smile when he met Frank or Jimmy. And Jimmy ached to take him in hand and show him something that might not have been good for Dixon. But the opportunity did not come and peace was preserved.

Hockey came and went, and the School team, captained by Dixon and filled up with his followers from Gamma, lost miserably to Warwick. Jimmy and Frank watched the game from the side of the improvised rink on the Wampaug.

"There are better players among the Freshmen," said Jimmy contemptuously, "but they have no chance. I could pick up a team among the class teams that would beat the School team at hockey to a frazzle."

And Jimmy spoke the plain truth. Chip had followed his usual method of picking out his team from his Society, and he had no eyes for their faults. But the School was fretting under the burden of Gamma Tau and of Dixon himself. How much longer he was going to be allowed to boss everything was a matter of speculation in many a room after books were laid aside.

"Thank goodness, it is his last year!" said Lewis one night, when the possibility of the continuance of Dixon as a dictator was being discussed.

"Yes, but there is Howard Hotchkiss coming along. He is sure to be the next boss." Hotchkiss was in the third class. He was not an athlete, but a masterful fellow who could be depended upon to keep the prestige of the School in the hands of Gamma and not let it get away for a moment.

"The threatening storm against the Gamma is growing every day," said David, "and when it comes, there is bound to be fun. Two of the editors on the Mirror, Pickering and Westover, refused the last elections and they are hot for an opposition society."

"Will it come, do you think?" inquired Frank.

"I wouldn't be surprised to see the sentiment of the class blaze out into action at any moment. Only to-night Pickering suggested a class meeting for a conference on a new society. He has been talking it over with a lot of his friends, and he feels pretty sure we could put something through if we all got behind it. The only trouble is that there are so many toadies to the old Society of the Gamma who say one thing and do another. Most of them grab for a chance to get into Gamma like a drowning man grabs at a straw."

"I'm for a new society," said Frank, "which will have its elections on merit, and which will make no distinctions between athletes, good students, or good fellows who are neither athletes or brilliant at their studies."

"Oh, ho, I think I have heard you say that the Gamma could be reformed!" said the Codfish derisively.

"That was before I knew much about it. They are so hardened and set in their own notions that the only way to reform them is with a good big club."

A few days later the subject of a new society came up again, and on the night of a certain day in May about a dozen of the prominent boys in the class met in Frank's room to talk it over together. Before the boys separated, it had been agreed to call a meeting of the class in the big room of the Library, where the whole matter was to come up. There was to be a general debate on the subject, and Armstrong, as befitted his position as an athlete in the class, was to make the principal speech. In the room were, of course, several friends of Gamma Tau, and it was not long before the information had penetrated to Dixon and other leaders of the old Society.

"Going to form a new society, are they? Well, we'll see about that! The School isn't big enough for what it has now in the way of societies. We'll pack that meeting full of our own men of the class and block everything they try. We'll see what they can do to old Gamma!"

Meanwhile, the Queen's baseball team continued to lose steadily. With Frank out of the game, there was no pitcher who could do even passable work. Dixon, in desperation, gave up his position behind the bat to the substitute catcher, a fellow named Watson, and went into the box himself. But he only lasted for one game, the game with Porter School, in which the latter fairly buried Queen's under the score of 14 to 3! It was then that resentment began to show itself in even the mildest of the students. The feeling was particularly strong in the second class, of which our friends were members. David Powers wrote an article on the situation for the Mirror, but the article never appeared in that paper, for the Chief Editor of the paper, under whose eye the article fell, was a Gamma boy, and he thought it too outspoken. David Powers promptly resigned from the paper, and the reason of his resignation soon became known to the class and the school at large. The incident strengthened the determination of every one to have a fight with Gamma to the death, and particularly roused our friends in Honeywell.

Affairs came rapidly to a climax. David and the Codfish put their heads together and prepared a poster calling on the class to meet in the Library room set aside for meetings of the class by the School authorities. The School woke up one morning in the latter part of May to find the posters boldly displayed on tree trunks and on various conspicuous points about the School. The announcement of the meeting was ripped down by the Gamma boys, who well knew what was going on, but the poster had had its effect and every one was on tip-toe.

At last the eventful day arrived. The Codfish and David, with the help of Lewis and Jimmy, had spent many hours on the constitution of the society. Fifteen boys were to be chosen from the Second Class and they were to be selected on merit. Two members of the teaching staff were to be taken into the society as honorary members and they were to be consulted in the elections. David, who had spent days on the work, had searched the constitutions of all the school societies he could get hold of and had, with his associates, selected the best from them and rejected what seemed not suitable for the new society. The draft of the constitution was to be presented that night before the class meeting in the Library, where discussion would be open. Frank, who was looked upon as a popular leader, had been chosen, as we have said, to present the whole matter at the meeting.

"If I'm going to do this stunt," said Frank, after the boys had returned to their room after supper that evening, "you've all got to clear out and let me have a little time to myself. I've got to think what I'm to say."

"All right, Napoleon," said the Codfish, "we'll skip and let you compose yourself. If any big thoughts stick, look us up," and he scampered out of the door, eager to talk the coming great event over with others of his class.

Frank was left alone, and he set himself to work up a speech that should present the matter to his classmates. He was before his little desk in Honeywell thinking hard and chewing the end of a lead pencil as an aid, when there came a rap on the half-open door.

Frank turned around and saw a small boy standing just outside the door.

"Hello, son, what is it?" he said, turning again to the matter before him.

"Please, are you Frank Armstrong?"

"I'm that chap," said Frank, scratching away with his pencil.

"Well, please," said the boy, "there's a man wants to see you."

"That's nice; where is he?"

"Down at the baseball field."

"Down at the baseball field!" echoed Frank. "Why doesn't he come up here? I haven't time to go down to the baseball field to see a man. I've got important business on to-night. Tell him I'll see him to-morrow. I haven't time to see him to-night, unless he comes up here."

"Oh," said the boy, "he said this was very important for you; that he had some news to tell you about the trouble in the bell tower."

Frank gave a long whistle and stood up, interested at once. He looked at the clock over the mantel. It was half past seven and the meeting was set for eight o'clock.

"He said he could tell you who did the mischief in the bell tower and prove it to you," continued the boy, "but that he couldn't come up to your room."

"I've half a mind to go and see this strange man who knows so much. I can be back in half an hour or less," he said half to himself. Then to the boy, "All right, kid, I'll go along with you, for that business of the bell tower is something I'd like to get to the bottom of myself." Then aside, "I'll pick up Jimmy and the Codfish and we'll see what he knows."

"The man said you must come alone, for he doesn't want to be seen by any one at the School except yourself."

"More mystery. All right, kid, tell him I'll be along in a minute and I'll be alone."

The boy waited to hear no more, but darted out of the door and was off like a flash. Frank followed more leisurely after folding David's draft of the constitution and putting it in his inside coat pocket, along with some of the scribbled notes of his speech. "I can think of what I'm going to say as I go along," he thought, "and no time is lost. I wonder why this fellow is so secret about the appointment."

He picked up his cap from the desk, tripped gayly down the steps and out into the yard. None of his friends happened to be in view, and he hurried on in the gathering twilight across the yard, down past the end of Warren Hall, and down the pitch of the hill to the playground below. Over in the distance the baseball stand loomed darkly. But on the open field there was still plenty of light. He headed directly for the baseball stand, whistling brightly. "What on earth can this man have to tell me?" he said over and over to himself. "Well, I'll know presently."

He had now come to the outfield of the baseball diamond. Peering ahead into the shadow cast by the stand, he thought he saw a figure moving. Advancing to the diamond itself he spoke out loudly:

"Hullo, any one here want to see me?"

A figure slouched out of the shadow and approached Frank to within a distance of ten or fifteen feet. "You are Frank Armstrong?" said a voice that Frank had never heard before.

"Yes," answered Frank. "What is all this about? If you have anything to tell me, tell it to me quick, for I've got to get back."

"It's pretty important news for you, kid," said the man, coming a step or two closer. "I happen to know all about that affair, who did it, and why it was done, and I've got the proofs for you. Look at that paper," he added, drawing a folded sheet of white paper from his pocket and handing it to Frank. Frank reached for the paper, took it, and bent his head in the dim light to read the writing. As he did so, the strange man sprang upon him, threw an arm around his neck and held him as securely as in a vise. The attack had been so sudden that Frank was powerless to make the faintest resistance. And even had he had the chance, he would have been helpless in that fierce clasp.

"Hey, Bill," called his captor, "come over here and help me truss him up. We've got him, all right."

There was a sound of feet running across the grass, and in an instant two more men appeared from the shadow of the baseball stand. Each seized an arm of the captured boy, and the man who had made the first attack released his hold on Frank's neck.

"What's this all about?" said Frank huskily. The stranger had nearly choked the wind out of him in the tight grasp in which he had held him until help arrived. "I have no money."

"We don't want your money, kid," said one of the men. "We just want you, and everything will be easy for you if you come along without kicking."

"Come along where?"

"Never mind, that's our little secret."

Frank opened his mouth to yell for help, but a big hand immediately closed over it and shut off his cry. "Come, none of that!"

"Put that towel over his mouth!" said one of his captors. A towel was whipped out by one of them and in a jiffy he was effectually prevented from making any outcry, and it had been so placed that he could not see. "Now, come along, young fellow, we're not going to eat you."

Two of the men linked their arms in his, and, preceded by the third, they set out at a rapid pace toward the path that ran down along the river edge. Frank tried to hang back, but he was firmly urged forward, and, seeing the uselessness of resistance in the face of such overwhelming odds, he gave up and went along quietly, waiting a chance to escape by some stratagem.

After a walk of a few minutes, Frank's captors halted and turned toward the river. Frank felt the cold chills race up and down his spine as he stood, held firmly between the two. "What does it all mean?" he thought to himself. The man who had preceded them disappeared for a moment in the alder bushes which fringed the bank. In a moment his voice sounded from below: "The boat's here; hurry it up and let's get it finished."

Half walking and half sliding, they reached the water's edge. Without any ceremony Frank was forced into the boat, the others followed, and one of the men, after pushing off, began to row rapidly. Two or three hundred yards down stream he beached the boat, sprang out and held her, while the others, still grasping Frank, scrambled out awkwardly. The boat was pulled up a little and then, in the same order as the procession had started, it continued on what seemed to be an old road overgrown with grass. Five minutes of twisting and turning through trees and tangled shrubbery, during which time Frank, by moving his face muscles, had uncovered one eye, brought them to a house, but it was shrouded in the deepest gloom. No lights shone from its windows and no sounds of life came from within. All was dreary and desolate, and a chill struck to Frank's heart as he suddenly recognized the place. It was the Jackson house on the back road to Hamilton, and it was reported to be haunted. Some deed of blood had been done there years before and the house since that time had been vacant. After nightfall few ventured that way. Queer lights were said to have been seen about the house at night. The road was little traveled by man or beast at any hour. Through a broken gate hanging crazily by one hinge the procession passed, and up the overgrown walk to the door. Halting here, the leader fumbled in his pocket and produced a key, which he inserted in the lock of the door. There was a grinding sound as the bolt shot back.

"Here's where you stay for a few hours, young fellow," said one of his captors. "Nice comfortable shack. You'll have lots of visitors in there and you needn't be a bit lonesome."

Frank fought hard against his imprisonment. He struggled and scratched and kicked with all his might, and braced against the door jamb. But he was soon overpowered and pushed within. The door was jerked back quickly and Frank was alone in the haunted house. Turned by the key on the outside, the lock shot squeaking back into its socket. Just then the clock on the Queen's School tower boomed the hour of eight!