you think you are going to spy on me, after all!" cried a
voice, and Nat Poole came towards them, with a deep frown on his
face.
"It's rather queer you are in the tree," answered Roger, somewhat
sharply.
"It's my affair, not yours, Roger Morr!" roared the money-lender's
son. Then, without another word, he walked to the bonfire, kicked the
blazing sticks into the river, and strode off in the direction of the
Hall.
"He's good and mad," was Roger's comment.
"And we didn't learn anything, after all," added our hero.
Dave and his chum rejoined the merry throng at the other bonfires. But
the celebration in honor of the baseball victory was practically at an
end, and a little later the students retired, to skylark a little in
the dormitories, and then settle down for the night.
A week passed, and Dave stuck to his studies as persistently as ever.
During that time he sent off several letters, and received a number in
return, including one from Jessie, which he treasured very highly and
which he did not show to his chums.
"Here is news of Link Merwell," said Luke Watson, one day, as he came
along with a letter. "It's from a friend of mine who knows Merwell. He
says he saw Link in Quebec, Canada, at one of the little French hotels
in the lower town."
"What was Merwell doing?" questioned Dave, with interest.
"Nothing much, so my friend writes. He says Link was dressed in a blue
suit and wore blue glasses, and he thought his hair was dyed."
"Evidently doing what he could to disguise himself," was Phil's
comment.
"My friend writes that he saw Merwell only one evening. The next day
he was missing. He made inquiries and says he was at the hotel under
the name of V. A. Smith, of Albany, New York."
"He does not dare to travel around under his own name," remarked
Shadow. "Say, that puts me in mind of a story," he went on,
brightening up. "Once a chap changed his name, because----"
"Say, cut it out," interrupted Phil. "We want to hear about Merwell."
"There isn't any more to tell," said Luke. "My friend tried to find
out where he had gone but couldn't."
"He must be having a lonely time of it--trying to keep out of the
hands of the law," murmured Dave.
"And maybe he hasn't much money," said Buster. "His father may have
shut down on him."
Gus Plum listened to all this conversation without saying a word. But
down in his heart the former bully of Oak Hall was glad that he had
cut away from Merwell and
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