open trunk and some school books, and on the books was perched a quart bottle of black ink, ready to tip over at the slightest touch. Beside the beds was an upturned table, with rugs and chairs on top, and mixed in with them suits of clothing, collars, shirts, socks, neckties, and a hundred and one other things. Every toothbrush and hairbrush had been daubed with ink or mucilage, and mucilage had been placed on the band of every hat and cap. Over the bare floor were strewn the contents of several boxes of tacks, and an armful of straw from the stable.
"This is Chip Macklin's work," came from Roger. "I'll wager a hundred dollars on it!"
"He never did this alone," came from Sam Day. "Gus Plum must have helped him."
"I vote we go and catch Macklin and make him straighten this out," put in Buster Beggs. "Why, such a rough house, as this will take all night to fix up."
One or two of the boys wanted to report to the master of the Hall, but this was quickly voted down by the others.
"We can attend to our own troubles," said Phil. "But we ought to make sure if Macklin and Plum did it."
"I'm going to play the spy and see," declared Roger. "That is, if you fellows will start in to fix up here without me."
