"Haven't you located that venerable piece of achitecture yet?" asked Dutch Houselager, with a sly putting forth of his foot, in an effort to trip Tom. Dutch was always up to some horse-play.
"No, we haven't found it, and I guess we're not likely to," went on the end, as he spoiled the efforts of Dutch by hitting him a playful blow in the side. "The mystery of the clock is still unexplained. Our offer to trade back hasn't had any takers."
"Oh, you fellows make me tired, always talking about your old relics!" broke in Kindlings. "You had much better be considering some new football plays, or how to help Randall out of the hole she's in."
"Out of the hole some rascally lawyers got her in, you'd better say," corrected Holly Cross. "This trouble never would have developed, if it hadn't been that some legal sharps stirred it up, for the hope of a fat fee, I presume."
"And Langridge's father, of all lawyers!" put in Sid. "You'd have thought that since his son once went here, he'd have had the decency not to appear in the case, and would have left it for some one else."
"Maybe he's doing it on purpose, just because his son had to leave here," suggested Tom.
"Shouldn't wonder a bit," agreed Captain Woodhouse. "But, say, don't let this trouble get
