"Well, never mind," Alice rejoined. "Let's hurry home or we'll be blown into the next county."
It was such a cold blustery night, with the wind seeming to increase in violence rather than diminish, that all were glad when they reached their houses.
"It's a pretty fierce gale," remarked Mr. Keene, when his son and daughter had told him what had happened, "but I wouldn't think it was strong enough to blow the tower down. Must have been weak somewhere."
"The janitor said some of the chimneys needed new mortar in the cracks, and maybe the tower did also," Bart said.
"I suppose the school authorities will investigate and see what caused it to fail," his father went on. "It was a dangerous thing to let such a weak tower stay up."
Bart stopped at Ned's house the next morning to call for him, and then they intended to get Frank and Fenn to go together and take a look at the tower.
"Come on in," Ned invited his chum at the door. "I've got a letter."
"Who from?"
"My aunt, Mrs. Paul Kenfield, of New York. She want's me to come down for a week or two.
