there came swift footsteps through the hallway, and the door to dormitory No. 12 was opened by Job Haskers. Behind the assistant stood Dr. Clay, clad in a dressing gown and slippers.
The assistant turned on the light, and then gazed about him in a dismayed fashion. He had anticipated finding all in disorder. As it was, not even a chair was out of place. He turned to one clothes closet after another, but nothing unusual met his view.
"What do you find, Mr. Haskers?" asked the doctor, in rather a hard tone of voice. The master of the school did not relish being aroused out of a sound sleep to look after his pupils.
"Why—er—this appears to be in order," stammered the second assistant.
"So I should say myself,—and all of the boys appear to be asleep," added the doctor, and listened to the heavy breathing and the snoring.
"They may be shamming."
Job Haskers walked from one bed to another and gazed keenly at each occupant. Dave felt like laughing outright, but managed to keep a sober face, and continued to snore as if he was enjoying the soundest sleep of his life.
From dormitory No. 12, the assistant and Dr. Clay passed to No. 11, only to find the same orderly appearance and the same apparent sleepers.
"X goes into b minus 12bz——" murmured
