PERPLEXITY

An exclamation of anger burst forth from Ward's lips, and even Henry's ordinary calm was somewhat disturbed by the sight. Chairs, tables, bedding, and carpets were all piled in one indiscriminate mass in the center of the room. The dim light from the hall only served to increase the impression of confusion.

"Well, Henry," said Ward ruefully, when they entered the room and had carefully shut the door, "it's too bad that you have to be punished too for my sins. Whoever did this, evidently intended to make a thorough piece of work of it. Isn't it a sight to behold!"

"Never mind me, Ward," said Henry quietly. "I'm ready to take my share; all I'm sorry about is that somebody has such a mean spirit. What fun there can be in tearing everything to pieces like this I cannot see for my part."

"It hasn't been done for the fun of it; you can rest easy about that," replied Ward. "I wish the one who did it was here now. I'd make him take a hand in fixing up the room again. Hello, the lamp's broken!" he added angrily as he found the broken lamp in the midst of the heap on the floor. "Yes, and they've poured the oil all over everything too. It's a good deal worse than it was this afternoon and that was bad enough. We'll have to borrow a lamp, I'm thinking."

"No, mine's all right," said Henry quickly, as he drew forth his own lamp from the border of the confused mass.

In a moment he had lighted it, and both boys stood for a moment and gazed ruefully at the wreck before them. Ward was almost too angry to speak now. All his quiet labor in the afternoon had been useless, and now a task even worse than the one which he had faced then was before him.

"We might as well go at it now as any time," said Henry quietly, removing his coat as he spoke, and preparing to begin the work. "It's got to be done, Ward, and the sooner we do it the better. Come on, old fellow, we'll soon have it all straightened out."

Ward made no reply, but he at once prepared to follow his room-mate's example, and soon both boys were busily at work. Several times there came a rap on their door, but they did not heed it, for neither was in a mood to welcome callers.

They continued eagerly at the task, working rapidly, and it was not long before the room began to take on once more something of its former appearance. The study bell had rung, however, before their labors were ended, and the rap on the door which soon came they recognized at once as Mr. Blake's.

Ward himself opened the door in response to the summons, and as he stood facing the tall teacher the flush on his face caused by his anger and his exertions had not entirely disappeared.

"I'm surprised, Hill, not to find you at your studies. A senior ought not to set an example like this. I shall wait to see that you begin your work promptly and properly."

Ward was too angry to offer any explanation. He bade Mr. Blake enter, and as he offered him a chair, he saw that Henry had at last succeeded in partially adjusting the last remaining belongings of the room.

"We're all right now, Mr. Blake," said Henry quietly. "There were some things which had to be attended to before we could begin to study."

"You ought not to take the study hours for such work," responded Mr. Blake, rising as he spoke. "I've heard you pounding up here for some time, and hoped you'd settle down so as not to disturb the others. You ought to bear in mind that there are other boys as well as yourselves in West Hall, and some of them I'm glad to say manifest a disposition to work."

As Mr. Blake went out of the room Ward could restrain himself no longer. "That's always the way with that man!" he said angrily. "No matter what you do, or how hard you try, it's all the same. He has to put in his word and it's always the wrong word at the right time too. I wish he didn't have charge of West Hall."

"Oh, well, never mind, Ward. He doesn't understand us very well, that's a fact; but so long as we know he doesn't, we know about what to expect. We'll get to work now and forget all about Mr. Blake, and that the room ever was stacked. It doesn't look how as if it had been troubled. You can't see anything wrong about it, can you?"

"No, but I can smell it," said Ward half-laughingly, for the odor of the kerosene which had been spilled was only too apparent in the room.

However, the boys soon seated themselves by Henry's table and began their work for the evening. It was some time before Ward could bring his thoughts to bear upon the work in hand, but at last he succeeded and studied hard all the evening.

"There, I haven't my work all done," he said when at last the bell was rung indicating that the end of the study hour had come. "I must have more time. I'm going down to ask Mr. Blake for permission to sit up a little longer."

"Let me go," said Henry quickly, but Ward was out of the room by this time and made no reply.

In response to his request Mr. Blake shook his head and refused permission. Ward went slowly back to his room thoroughly angry. The teacher's manner betrayed his suspicion of the boy, and Ward did not take time to consider that Mr. Blake did not know anything of the new resolution he had formed, or of the struggle which was going on in his own mind.

He closed the door with a slam as he came back and expressed his opinion in no mild terms of the man who was in charge of West Hall. Henry strove to soothe the angry feelings of his room-mate, but without avail, and when at last the boys retired for the night, Ward's anger had steadily increased.

"Even Mr. Crane would be satisfied now," he thought as he drew the bedclothes up around him. "I've got enough anger, as he called it, to supply every boy in West Hall."

But he was too tired to cherish his feelings for any length of time and was soon asleep.

He was awake long before the breakfast hour, and hastily arising resumed his studying. By the time Henry had joined him he had his work all done, and felt that he was thoroughly ready for the tasks of the day. The fact gave him much satisfaction, and when they started toward the dining hall much of his anger had disappeared, so far as any outward manifestation of it was concerned; but deep down in his heart Ward was thinking of his own troubles. Perhaps he even tried to cherish the feeling of anger a trifle, for it was so much more easy to work and face the school when he was aroused, than it was when only the fact of his own unpopularity was most apparent.

However, he had decided upon one course of action, at least, and that was what he would have to say to Jack Hobart. A fine friend he was! After all his protestations of friendship, to go over to West Hall and get the keys to his room! For Ward had not a doubt in his mind that Jack had been the one to carry out the scheme which he believed Tim Pickard had concocted. Not that Jack had "stacked" the room himself. Ward did not for a moment believe that. But he knew Jack Hobart so well that he was certain he would strive to keep in the good graces of all the school, and if he saw the tide setting too strongly against him Ward somehow felt that Jack would desert him. Had he not done that very thing in the preceding year? It was true he had professed to be sorry, but what did "feeling sorry" amount to, since he failed to stand beside him when troubles came?

Jack had expected trouble to come too, and Ward thought somewhat bitterly of his friend's words, and how he had declared that his vertebr? and upper lip should manifest their power in the time of trial. And the trying time had come.

Ward thought of the scene a few days before this time at the Rockford Station, when Jack had come on the afternoon train. How eager he had been then for him to come back to the Weston school! And what strong words concerning his own friendship he had used too! And Ward had believed him; that was the worst of it all.

But the "Tangs" had declared against him, and the troubled boy could not entirely shake off the feeling that Jack had not broken with them, and that h............