THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED

For a moment Ward was speechless as he gazed at the scene of confusion before him. Whoever had done the work had done it thoroughly, for not an article of furniture nor a picture on the wall had been left in its proper place. It was confusion worse confounded upon which he gazed.

Quickly recovering himself, Ward pushed his way into the room and closed the door behind him. As he examined the heaps and piles before him more carefully, he became more and more angry. It was such a senseless, malicious trick to play on him, that Ward felt the indignity the more. It was true he had known of such things having been done before in the rooms of other boys, and he had not thought much about it at the time, or had only laughed good-naturedly when he had heard of the deed; but it was an entirely different affair when it came home to himself.

"I think even Mr. Crane would be satisfied that I am angry enough now," Ward thought, smiling bitterly; "but I don't see that it is going to help me very much. If the fellow who did it was here, why then I might turn my anger to advantage."

But even then Mr. Crane's lesson came home to him. "I'll do as he suggested," thought Ward, "and I'll just turn in and set these things aright before I have time to get over it."

Angry as Ward was he realized that the mischief must be repaired, and that he must be the one to repair it.

But first of all he began to investigate the manner in which the mischief-maker had entered the room. The outside windows were fastened on the inner side, and no one could have entered through them, even if he had had the hardihood to make the attempt. The door had been locked when he had returned, but he soon satisfied himself that some one must have had a key and used it in his absence.

Naturally his first thought was of Tim Pickard, but Tim was down on the ballground and must have been there long before Ward had gone. Tim himself then could not have done it. Who was it? Ward thought over the boys who would have been most likely to be the guilty ones, but he could not arrive at any satisfactory conclusion. So many of the boys now were against him that it might have been any one of twenty whom he could name.

It was impossible for Ward to banish the thought of Tim Pickard as having been the prime instigator, however. He would be too shrewd to be directly implicated in the matter, Ward was well aware of that, but Tim could work indirectly. There were too many of the boys who were willing to curry favor with him by any means for him not to be able to find some one to "pull his chestnuts out of the fire for him," as Ward expressed it.

Satisfied that he must wait for a solution of the mystery, Ward took off his coat and resolutely set to work to restore the room to something like its former state. He quickly moved the furniture, and then after spreading out the carpet began to tack it to the floor.

He worked on steadily and as quietly as possible, for he had no desire to be disturbed in his labors or enter into any explanations which a visitor might desire to have made. Several times some one rapped upon his door, but Ward did not heed the interruption. He paused in his work long enough to satisfy himself that the visitor had departed, and then resumed his labor.

Never before had he worked so hard or so rapidly. He grimly thought of what Mr. Crane had said concerning anger as a motive for exerting one's self, and certainly, he thought, in the present case it was working remarkably well. In much less time than he had deemed it possible the carpet had been tacked to the floor, and then Ward at once began to restore the furniture to its proper place. This last was an easy task, and as Ward glanced at his watch he was surprised to see that he had been working but little more than an hour. No one would suspect now from the appearance of the room that it had been "stacked," to use the Weston term for the upsetting of a boy's room. He then spread out the bedding in such a manner as to permit it to become dry, and just as he turned to enter the study room again, some one knocked on the door.

Satisfied that no one would suspect what had occurred, but with his anger not one whit abated, Ward advanced to the door and slipping back the bolt, opened it.

"Oh, it's you, Little Pond, is it?" he said as Pond's brother entered the room. "What's up?" he hastily inquired, as he detected the trace of tears in the lad's eyes.

"Some one's been in my room and upset everything in it. They've even poured water all over my bed, and I don't know what I'll do. I've been working hard for an hour to straighten things out, but I don't think I've succeeded very well," and the lad's voice almost broke as he spoke.

"Never mind, Pond," said Ward quickly, forgetting for a moment his own experience and anger at the sight of the trembling lad before him. "I'll go up and help you, and we'll have it all straightened out before you know it. You mustn't mind such a little thing as having your room stacked. It's what every new boy has to expect."

Ward spoke quite bravely. His new role as "Ward Hill the senior" was already beginning to have its effect upon him, and in the impulse to help another, he almost forgot his own anger over what a little while before he had considered an outrage.

"You haven't told any one about it, have you?" inquired Ward.

"No; that is, I haven't to any one except Big Smith."

"And what did Big Smith say?"

"Oh, he said just what you did, not to mind it."

"That was kind of him," remarked Ward drily. "He didn't speak about being willing to come up and help you set the room up again, did he?"

"Why, no; is he the one who does that?"

"Not exactly. It's strange how many duties he has to do just when any one else happens to want anything of him. Why, there he is now," he quickly added as they came out of the room and Ward carefully locked the door behind him. "I say, Big Smith, I want you. Come up into Little Pond's room and help set it up. The poor little homesick chap has had it stacked, and can't fix it alone."

"I should like to, Ward, I really should, but I've some work to do, and I feel it to be my duty to attend to that first. I'll come up as soon as I can."

"No, you won't, you'll come now," said Ward angrily. "You're not going to leave the little chap in any such way."

"But, Ward, I can't," protested Big Smith, "I really can't. I must do my work first."

"You'd better come. Such fellows as you sometimes have to neglect their 'duties' to set their own rooms up. You'll have your own room stacked the first thing you know."

"Do you think so?" said Big Smith hastily. "I don't see why any one should want to bother me in that way. But I'll come up. Perhaps I ought to, though I do not wish to."

"Come along, then," said Ward; and the three boys at once proceeded to Pond's room, and by their combined efforts the few belongings were soon restored to their former places.

"I hope this stacking business isn't going to become the fashion," said Big Smith solemnly. "It will be a very serious inconvenience to me if I should have to rearrange my room very often. It would interfere with my plans very sadly. Do you know, Ward, I heard some one in your room this afternoon? I thought it was you at first, but when I saw you a little later coming up the path, of course I knew it wasn't. S............