As Grant drew near they saw he was regarding them with a half taunting expression on his bronzed face. In return they stared at him wonderingly, seeking to detect in his manner some symptoms of craziness.

“Dud-dinged if he don’t look all right,” muttered Phil Springer.

“I guess he’s got over it,” said Sile Crane.

Followed by Stone, the boy from Texas vaulted the back yard fence and came straight toward them.

“Well, how are the noble warriors and the desperate cattle rustlers this morning?” was his mocking inquiry. “You sure appear a trifle upset, gents. King Philip has a pale and languid look; Tecumpseh seems some disturbed, and I declare, Osceola is nervous. Girty, the renegade, has backed off, ready to take to his heels. I miss the familiar face of the chief of the cattle rustlers. Is it possible he has found himself indisposed this morning, which has compelled him to remain in bed? Take you all together, you’re a sure enough meaching-looking bunch.

“Survey them, Stone. Would you ever imagine these brave bucks possessed the hardihood to lay in wait, in superior numbers, under cover of darkness, and jump on a lone and unsuspecting person? Can you pick out among them the bloodthirsty redskins who would cruelly tie a captive to the stake and attempt to burn him alive? There they are—Cooper, Crane and Springer;—and there’s their disreputable accomplice, Rollins, otherwise known as Girty, the renegade. These others are the cattle rustlers, who rescued the unfortunate wretch from the Indians and bore him to their mountain rendezvous, where they threw him into a room with the bleaching bones of poor old Tanglefoot Bill. Is it any wonder they drove the victim of such cruel treatment clean batty? Is it any wonder that he chanted a doleful dirge, and rubbed powdered chalk on his face, and chewed soap until he could froth at the mouth? Such behavior on his part certainly indicated that he had gone plumb loony.”

He concluded with a burst of laughter that grated harshly on the ears of the deluded jokers, who were slowly beginning to understand that they had been fooled completely—that the joke was on them. The realization of this brought flushes of shame mounting to their faces.

“Well, I’ll be switched!” gasped Crane. “He’s a-givin’ us the laugh.”

Chipper Cooper pretended to look around on the ground. “Can anybody find a hole small enough for me to crawl into?” he muttered. “I want to get out of sight—quick.”

“I don’t blame you any,” chuckled Rod Grant. “Take my advice and seek seclusion and shelter in the swamps of the Narragansetts. You were a bum redskin, anyhow. You gents had a heap of fun, didn’t you? But you always want to remember that the fellow who laughs last laughs best. It’s my turn now, and I’m enjoying it a plenty. You ought to see yourselves. You’re the cheapest looking aggregation of hazers I ever beheld. Some of you appear sick enough to have a doctor.”

This was true; without exception, they all wore a silly, shamed expression.

The sudden sounding of the last bell came as welcome relief, and they lost no time about hustling indoors, followed more leisurely by Grant and Stone, the former continuing to cast jibes after them.

During the morning session the boys were given time to think the whole matter over, and with the coming of a calm realization that they had been not only checkmated but completely hoist on their own petard, their chagrin was intensified. Occasionally one of them would steal a sly glance toward Rod Grant, but whoever did so was almost certain to meet the chaffing, derisive gaze of the boy from Texas. Some made secret vows of vengeance, while others were more inclined to “own the corn” and acknowledge themselves outwitted. What they now dreaded more than anything else was the stinging tongue and pitiless badinage of the new boy.

At intermission they held a secret conclave, at which a few betrayed their continued rawness in the face of advice from others to swallow the medicine, bitter though it was, and make the best of it.

“I tell yeou, fellers,” said Sile Crane, “after due consideration, I’m sorter inclined to own right up before Grant that he come it over us mighty slick. We started aout to have haydoo-gins of fun with him, but before we got through he made us look like a cage of monkeys, and that’s all there is to it. I snum, I think ’twas pretty clever of him.”

“Bah!” growled Hunk Rollins. “If you want to lay down and let him use you for a foot-mat, go ahead. I don’t feel that way, and I don’t propose to do it. He’s been shown up as a case of bluff. He hasn’t got the nerve to fight, nor even to play football. Are we going to let that sort of a feller crow over us?”

“I’ve got an idee,” said Crane slowly, “that Rod Grant ain’t lackin’ in nerve. No feller could ’a’ stood what he did last night, bein’ chucked into a dark room with a real skeleton that had been rubbed over with phosphorus, and then fooled the bunch of us by makin’ b’lieve he was crazy, unless he had pretty good nerve. He’s refused to play football, and mebbe he won’t fight; but I cal’late the chap that keeps treadin’ on the tail of his co’t is goin’ to run up against a s’prise party some day. Bimeby he’ll wake up and break loose, and when he does there’ll be some doings.”

Returning to the academy after dinner, Chipper Cooper found a number of the boys still talking about Grant.

“Say,” cried Cooper, “you can’t guess who called me up over the long distance ten minutes ago.”

“Barker,” said Nelson instantly.

“You win.”

“Bub-Barker!” sneered Phil Springer. “What did he want?”

“Wanted to know what we’d heard about Grant. Said he naturally felt somewhat anxious.”

“You bate he felt that way!” exclaimed Crane scornfully. “What’d you tell him?”

“I told him all about it—told him what a lot of lobsters we were.”

“What made yeou do that?” cried Crane. “Why didn’t yeou tell him they’d had to put Grant in a strait-jacket, or somethin’ like that?”

“Didn’t think of it quick enough, Sile; but I told him the fellers were mighty disgusted because he sneaked out.”

“What’d he say to that?”

“Oh, he denied that he had sneaked. Said he’d had a standing invitation from Merwin, who had been urging him for a long time to come over, and that was why he went. All the same, I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was greatly relieved.”

“Of course he was,” nodded Nelson. “We all know he skipped out and left us to face the music. Now that there’s nothing more to worry about, he’ll come back with his head up.”

“Nothing to worry about!” sighed Billy Piper. “Wait till the prof finds out what happened to his skeleton. My deduction is——”

“He’ll bone the whole school to tell who did it,” sighed Cooper. “If anybody squeals, we’ll find ourselves in a mess.”

“If anybody sus-squeals!” muttered Springer. “What’s going to prevent Grant from giving the whole thing away?”

“He’ll do it,” said Rollins. “That’s the way he’ll get even with us.”

“Get even!” said Roy Hooker. “Seems to me he’s more than even as it stands.”

With the beginning of the afternoon session they perceived something in Prof. Richardson’s manner which increased their apprehensions. Nevertheless, not until he had heard the physiology class and was on the point of dismissing it did the principal speak out. Standing beside his desk, he removed his spectacles and held them balanced upon his thumb, while his eyes surveyed the scholars before him, several of whom found it difficult to hide their nervousness.

“It’s an unfortunate thing,” began the master calmly, “that some young men in this school seem to hold very crude and unsatisfactory ideas regarding honor and decency. You know very well that I have always favored clean sport and decent fun—I have even encouraged it. Yesterday I informed the members of this class that I had secured a human skeleton, which those who wished to do so might examine at an extra session after school closed to-day. This skeleton had been placed in the laboratory. I have but recently discovered that the laboratory has been entered by some one and the skeleton has been broken. It was strung upon wires, and may be restored. This, however, in no way palliates the offense, which was no more nor less than a shameful act of vandalism. It is quite likely that more than one person was concerned in this despicable business. I’m not going to question you individually, but I warn you now that I shall deal severely with the culprits when I learn who they are, unless they at once own up to the deed. The lad who comes to me first with an honest confession will be treated with more or less leniency. It may be that some one who was not concerned in the matter—who is in no way responsible—knows something about it. If so, I hope he will speak up at once and tell the truth. This is his opportunity. Let him speak.”

It seemed that the master’s gaze came to a rest upon Rodney Grant as he concluded, and more than one lad in that class felt his heart stand still, believing it almost certain that Rod would grasp this opportunity to complete the work of retaliation. For several moments the silence was intense. The prominent “Adam’s apple” in Sile Crane’s neck bobbed convulsively as he swallowed. White around the mouth, Chub Tuttle slowly rolled his eyes in Grant’s direction. Rod was looking straight at the professor, but he sat unmoved and calm, like an image of stone.

“Very well,” said the master at length; “you have had your opportunity, and no one has chosen to speak out. Perhaps some one will decide to do so after further consideration. At any rate, I shall leave no stone unturned in my efforts to learn the identity of the rascals. The class is dismissed.”

School over for the day, Ben Stone found an opportunity to question Grant. “What would you have done,” he asked, “if the professor had singled you out and put it to you point-blank?”

“I should have declined to answer.”

“Then he certainly would have believed you concerned in the breaking of the skeleton.”

“I was.”

“But you were not to blame. If you had told the truth the other fellows would have had to suffer, while you must have been exonerated.”

“Had he cornered me,” said Grant, “I should have requested that the same questions be put to every other fellow in school.”

“What if they had lied? They might have denied knowing anything about it.”

“In that case,” said Grant, “I should have told the story of the hazing and refused to give the names of the fellows who took part in it.”

“Do you think they would have followed the same course—all of them, or any one of them—had the situation been reversed?”

“I don’t know,” answered Grant; “but I hope so.”