as such--er--such
an action would be, it would still be preferable to--to what I am forced
to suspect. But the whole thing is beyond me." The instructor spread his
hands in a gesture of despair. "I can't understand it, Edwards." After a
minute, "It must have been an accident," continued Mr. Daley almost
pleadingly. "You--er--you perhaps mistook the book for your own----"

"I didn't have any," muttered Steve.

"Well." Mr. Daley cleared his throat. "I--I must think it over. I--I
scarcely know what to say, Edwards. I'm sorry, very sorry." He arose
and moved to the door. "Come and see me to-morrow noon, please.
We--er--must talk this over again. Good-night, Edwards."

"Good-night, sir." Steve stood up until the door had closed and then
sank back into his chair again, a very miserable look on his face.

"What a crazy place to hide it!" he murmured.

The door opened and Tom came in, Tom with an expression half troubled
and half humorous. "What's up?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oh, nothing," replied Steve carelessly, avoiding Tom's eyes. "He jumped
me because I hadn't done my comp. Says I must turn it in by noon
to-morrow."

"Is that all?" Tom heaved a sigh of relief. "When he asked me to get out
I thought it was something pretty serious."

"Isn't that old composition serious enough?" asked Steve with a laugh
that didn't sound quite true.

"Yes, I suppose so. Look here, Steve, if you'll tackle it now, I'll help
you all I can with it. It won't take long. What time is it?"

"Have you done yours?" asked Steve.

"Yes," replied the other unenthusiastically. "It's done, but--but I
guess it's pretty rotten. If I get a C on it I'll be doing well. I
thought maybe I'd go over it again, but--I guess it'll have to do."

"Where is it?"

"Here somewhere." Tom searched at the far end of the table and drew a
blue-book to light. "Want to see it?"

Steve took it and glanced over it, a puzzled frown on his forehead.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom. "Don't you like it? I guess it is pretty
punk, though."

"It's all right, as far as I know," answered Steve, returning the book.
"Only--I don't understand----"

"Don't understand what? Say, you're as mysterious as--as--Sherlock
Holmes!"

"Nothing. By the way, a funny thing happened." Steve wandered toward the
window, his back to Tom, "When I went down to find 'Horace' I picked up
a blue-book that was on his table and brought it up here. It was
Upton's. I--I hadn't any recollect