"Here is a young man--a thief, if nothing worse, perhaps--whom I caught in the corridor of the west dormitory," explained Professor Tines to Mr. Zane a little later as he stood with his quarry before the proctor. Sid caught a glimpse of himself in a looking glass in the brightly-lighted office. "Oh--I--do I look like that?" he gasped as he saw his slimy trousers, and his face, which was like unto that of a chimney sweep, his hands also being covered with the swamp mud. "You certainly do!" said Professor Tines heartily. "Are you now ready to confess, before we send for an officer?" "But I tell you I'm Henderson!" insisted the luckless Sid. "It was only a joke when Phil and Tom went back on me. I tell you I'm Henderson, of the sophomore class!" The proctor glanced sharply at him. Mr. Zane had good eyes and a memory for voices, which Professor Tines lacked. "I believe it _is_ Henderson," spoke the proctor at length. "But where in the world have you been?" "Photographing a fox," explained Sid, and then he told the whole story. A dawning light of belief came into the countenance of Professor Tines, and when Sid had been allowed to wash his face and hands, there was no further doubt as to his identity. "Well," remarked the proctor, trying hard not to laugh as he glanced at the student's mud-encased trousers, "I would advise you to wear rubber boots when you go on your next nature excursion." "I will," promised Sid. "May I go to my room now?" "I suppose so," rasped out the Latin instructor. "But--ahem! I am not altogether sure yet that you are not up to some mischief." "I'll develop the picture of the fox and show you!" exclaimed Sid eagerly. "And here are some snails I picked up in the swamp," and with that he plunged his hand into the pocket of his coat and drew out a lot of the slimy creatures. Some of them dropped on the floor and started to crawl away, leaving a shimmering track. "That will do! The evidence is sufficient, I think!" exclaimed the proctor, who had a horror of such things. "Take them away at once, Mr. Henderson!" And Sid went down on his knees to gather up the _helix molluscæ_, while Professor Tines hurried from the room. "Do you want to see the picture of the fox?" asked Sid as he arose, his hands filled with snails. "No, thank you," answered the proctor. "I'll take your word for it, Mr. Henderson. But please be more careful," and he looked at the mud spots on his rug. A little later Sid burst into the room where his two chums were pouring over their books. "Say! What in blazes did you fellows go back on me that way for?" he demanded. "What's that? He speaks in riddles!" said Phil softly. "Why, Siddie," he went on, as a mother might chide a little boy, "wherever have you been? You're all mud! Oh, such a state as your trousers are in! Whatever will papa say, Siddie?" "What a dirty beast!" cried Tom in simulated horror. Poor Sid looked from one to the other.