to be the one thing that concerned every Columbia High School student just then.
"Not a bit. The flames never ate through the walls. They were made especiallly to guard against fire. It's all right, fellows!" came a reassuring answer; and as Roderic Seymour was the one who spoke, the word of the senior carried weight.
At that a cheer went up, three times three! The dreadful suspense had been relieved, and light replaced gloom.
"How did it happen. Was it an accident, or did some fellow set it afire on purpose; we want to know?" they continued to demand.
"Where's Buster? He ought to be able to tell us. Make him speak!"
Poor Buster was feeling very limp just then, what with his tremendous labors, added to the excitement. Still, he was game to answer that call.
"I'm here, fellows. You can just make up your minds this was no accident. I know, because I knocked one of the scoundrels into that hole in the floor with this fine old stuffed club!" he declared, as they dragged him forward.
"How did he get in?" demanded Paul Bird.
"Through a window; I found it open when the alarm went off and woke me up."
"Woke you up, eh? What made you sleep if you were going to watch?" asked one, and Buster glared
