ground. The office door, with an upper panel slivered, hung on one hinge. From inside the place there came slamming, crashing sounds.
Frank realized that something serious was happening. He could not imagine what it could be. He was not the boy, however, to remain inactive while a wanton destruction of the little personal property he owned was going on.
"Here he is!" cried an eager voice.
"Say, Newton, don't go in there. The man's wild, crazy. He'll half kill you."
"We shall see about that," retorted Frank, grimly.
He parted the excited crowd and sprang past the threshold of the dismantled door. His eyes flashed as he took a glance about the place.
A waste basket had been kicked to the other side of the room, littering the place from end to end. A file cabinet had been upset against his desk. Packages of circulars ready for the mail had been hurled pell-mell against a partition.
The author of all this reckless riot was just now pulling at some temporary shelves crossing a corner of the room, holding boxes of envelopes. All came down with a crash as Frank shouted sternly:
"Stop that—what are you doing?"
