A THREATENING LETTER
For a few seconds there was a silence following Professor Grimm's
ultimatum. Jack was so surprised he did not know what reply to make.
The suddenness of the accusation, with the experience of the night
before, and the upset over his sprained ankle, combined to make him
hesitate before he made answer.
"What have you to say, Ranger?" asked Dr. Mead, in a sterner voice
than he had ever before used toward Jack. "I know you will tell the
truth, for I have never yet known you to lie. But I must tell you
that if I find that you are guilty it will go hard with you this
time. I have put up with a good deal from the students, but this is
too much."
"I--I don't know what to say, sir," replied Jack, in a sort of daze.
"I'm not guilty, I can assure you of that!"
"It's one thing to say so and another to prove it," snapped Professor
Grimm. "The evidence is all against you."
"It's all circumstantial," interrupted Jack.
"But rather conclusive," went on the irate professor. He detailed how
he had seen Jack and his friends out late, how he had come upon them
using arnica, and mentioned some of their pranks in the past,
including the mock duel arranged between Professor Socrat the French
teacher and Professor Garlach, the German instructor.
"I admit I have played pranks in the past," said Jack frankly, "but
I'm not guilty this time. All I ask is a chance to prove that I had
no hand in this."
"You don't deserve a chance!" exclaimed Mr. Grimm.
"That's hardly fair," spoke Jack indignantly.
"Don't talk back to me!" burst out the angry teacher.
"I think your request is a fair one, Ranger," went on Dr. Mead. "I
will give you twenty-four hours in which to prove that you had no
hand in this. That is all now; you may go."
Dr. Mead was a man of few words, but Jack knew he would be absolutely
fair. So, bowing to the head of the school, and without a glance at
his accuser, Jack left the office.
"Whew!" exclaimed the youth, as he got outside. "I seem to be up
against it harder than ever. Twenty-four hours to prove something
that may take a week. Well, I've got to get busy, that's all."
"Hello!" exclaimed a voice as Jack was walking along the corridor
toward his room. "Whasmatternow? Betcher Ic'nguess!" and the voice
evolved itself into a good-natured looking lad, who stretched a big
wad of gum from his mouth, and slowly got it back again by the simple
but effective process of winding it about his tongue.
"Hello, Budge Rankin!" exclaimed Jack, as he saw the queer, bright
lad who had lived near him in Denton, and for whom Jack had secured
the place of second janitor at the school. "So you think you know
what the trouble is?"
"Betcherlife," replied Budge, who had a habit of running his words
together, a habit which his gum-chewing did not tend to relieve.
"What is it?"
"Accused you takin' that bell," went on Budge more slowly. "Hu!
Wanterbe a detective?"
"How did you know it?" asked Jack, a little surprised at Budge's
remark.
"Easy. Heard 'em talk. Transom open," was his answer.
"What do you mean about me turning detective?"
"Lookerthis," Budge said, quickly holding out a small object to Jack.
"Found it in Grimm's room, 'sIsweptout."
"You found it in Mr. Grimm's room as you swept it out?" inquired
Jack, not certain he had heard aright.
"'Smatter!" exclaimed Budge, that being his short-hand way of stating
that was what was the matter.
"A spark plug from an automobile," mused Jack. "Well, that doesn't
seem to give me much of a clue."
"Gotermobe?" asked Budge.
"No, of course I haven't an automobile," replied Jack.
"Knowoas?"
"Do I know who has? Why--By Jove! I believe I see what you mean. Say,
it's lucky you found this. I'll turn detective for awhile now. I
wonder how this got into Grimm's room."
"Rolled under door, I guess," replied Budge, speaking more rationally
as he threw away his cud of gum. "From hall, maybe."
"That's it!" exclaimed Jack. "I see it now. Thanks Budge. I hope I
succeed. I'm much obliged to you."
"'Sallright!" exclaimed Budge, as he hurried away to attend to some
of his duties.
When Jack got back to his room he found quite a gathering of his
chums there.
"In for it on account of that Klu-Klux business?" asked Sam Chalmers.
"Not exactly that," answered Jack, "though if I'd stayed at home It
wouldn't have happened."
"Ha-ha-ha-has it g-g-gg-got anything t-t-t--" began Will Slade.
"Whistle it!" exclaimed Bony Balmore.
"Sing it!" came from Fred Kaler. "Here I'll help you out," and he
began to play on his harmonica.
"Whole-wheat-whangdoodles!" cried Nat Anderson, "but tell us, Jack.
Don't keep us in suspense."
"It's the bell," said Jack. "I'm accused of taking it down and
putting it in Grimm's room. They found a rag with arnica on it near
the ding-dong, and Old Grimm jumped to the wrong conclusion, basing
his belief on what he saw here last night in the first-aid-to-the-
injured line. I've got until to-morrow to prove that I didn't do it."
"We can prove it easily enough," said Sam.
"Not so easily as you think," spoke Jack. "Grimm saw us out late, you
remember, and if all of you joined in saying it wasn't I who did it,
they wouldn't believe you. I guess they want to make an example of
someone. No sir, I'm going to do some sleuthing on my own hook. I've
got a good line and a bit of evidence to start with. I'm pretty sure
I can make some folks around here sit up and take notice about this
time to-morrow."
"Good for you, Jack!" exclaimed Dick. "If you want any help call on
us!"
"Thanks," replied Jack. "Now I guess we'd better get ready for
breakfast."
His chums left him to complete his dressing, and, when they were
gone, Jack carefully laid aside the spark plug Budge had given him.
"First link," he said.
During the noon intermission Jack had a short but earnest talk with
Socker, the school janitor. The latter nodded his head vigorously
several times during the conversation.
"I'll get it for you," he said as he and Jack parted.
At the close of school that afternoon the janitor went to Jack's room
with a large bundle.
"Any trouble?" asked our hero.
"Not a bit," replied Socker. "He was out and I found it rolled up in
a corner, just where he had thrown it. He hasn't even cleaned it."
"So much the better," said Jack, as he gave Socker a small sum of
money. "I'll keep quiet about this, don't worry."
"I hope you will," the janitor went on. "It's against the rules for
me to do what I did, but I want to oblige you, and have you come out
all right."
"Which I think I will," Jack added.
When he was alone he opened the bundle Socker had brought. It was a
linen duster, and, as Jack saw several brown spots on it he uttered
an exclamation of satisfaction.
With his knife he scraped some substance from the garment, and placed
the particles in a test tube. Then, taking this with him, he went to
the laboratory, where he remained for some time.
Late that afternoon Jack, who had avoided his chums, took a walk
around the campus. As he came near a small building, where some of
the students kept their motor cycles, one or two small automobile
runabouts, and a few of the more well-to-do, their ponies, Jack
assumed a slow and halting gait. He seemed to be limping from the
effects of his sprained ankle.
"I wonder if he's around," he muttered to himself. "Socker said he
was going to take a spin this afternoon, and it's about time for him
to start, by all accounts."
As Jack neared the entrance to the combined garage and stable he saw
a group of students approaching from an opposite direction. His limp
became more decided than before.
"He's there!" he said softly to himself.
"Hello, Ranger!" exclaimed a number, as Jack passed them. He knew
them fairly well, but was not intimate with them as they belonged to
the "fast set," a good-enough crowd, but lads who had more spending
money than was good for them.
"Hello!" called Jack in reply.
"What's the matter?" came several inquiries as the students noticed
Jack's limp.
"Turned on my ankle," was the reply. "A bit stiff yet."
The crowd had nearly passed by this time, and, owing to the fact that
Jack had the middle of the sidewalk, and did not turn to one side,
the little group separated. Some went on one side, and some on the
other. Just as Jack came opposite a tall, elaborately dressed youth,
he seemed to stumble. To save himself from falling Jack threw out his
hand and caught the tall student on the wrist. As he did so the well-
dressed youth uttered a cry.
"Clumsy! You hurt my sore wrist!"
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Jack, struggling to recover his
balance, but still keeping his hold of the other's hand. "Awfully
careless of me!"
There was quite a little jostling among the students, several trying
to help Jack recover his balance. Then Jack straightened up.
"I'm all right now," he said. "I bore down on it a little too hard."
He limped on, thrusting one hand hurriedly into his pocket. As he did
so, the tall student cried.
"There! I've lost the rag off my sore wrist! I sprained it cranking
my auto yesterday."
Several of his companions began a search for it, but as Jack hurried
on, as fast as he could, while still pretending to limp painfully he
said to himself:
"I guess you'll look a long while, Adrian Bagot, before you find that
rag. Maybe I can get even with you for running me down last night,"
and Jack pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket and smelled of it.
"That's the evidence!" he exclaimed, as he turned down a side street.
Whether it was this change, or whether it was because his ankle
suddenly healed, was not in evidence, but Jack began to walk with
scarcely the semblance of a halt in his step as soon as he was out of
sight of the students.
The lad hurried back to his room. There he spent a busy half hour,
poring over some books on chemistry. He got several test tubes, and
his apartment took on the appearance of a laboratory, while many
strange smells filled the air.
While Jack was engaged in pouring the contents of one test tube into
another there came a knock at his door.
"Who's there?" he called.
"It's me, Sam," was the reply.
"Say, Sam, excuse me, but I can't let you in," Jack answered. "I'm
working on something that I can't leave. I may have a surprise for
you in the morning."
"All right," Sam answered. "Here's some mail, that's all. I'll shove
it under the door."
There was a rustling of paper and several letters came beneath the
portal. Jack laid aside his test tube and gathered them up. One was
from his aunts at home, another from Judge Bennetty regarding the
payment of certain bills Jack had contracted, while the third was in
unfamiliar handwriting.
"I wonder who that's from," said Jack. "The best way to find out is
to open it."
He ripped the envelope down, and, as he did so, a piece of paper
fluttered to the ground. Picking the missive up, Jack read:
"It's a long lane that has no turns. I'll get even with you for
having me suspended and sent away from the Hall. My time will come
yet.
"Jerry Chowden."
"Jerry Chowden," murmured Jack. "So he's trying to scare me, eh? Well
I guess he'll find I don't scare."
Jack slowly folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. He
glanced at the postmark, and saw it was stamped "Chicago."
"Wonder how he got out there," he mused. "Well, I'm glad he's far
away," and he gave little more thought to the matter of the bully, a
nephew of Professor Grimm's, whose vain attempt to cast disgrace on
Jack, in the matter of painting a pipe on the professor's portrait,
had rebounded on his own head. He had been suspended for two months
for the escapade, which Jack was accused of, but which our hero
managed to prove himself innocent of, and, since leaving the Hall,
nothing had been heard of him.
"Maybe I'll meet him if I get out west on that strange hunt of mine,"
thought Jack, as he went on with his chemical tests.
He worked far into the night, and when he put out his light he said
to himself:
"I think I've got things just where I want them."