They discussed it from many standpoints. Pulter was very glad to get his book back, for he was not a wealthy lad, and the cost of a new volume meant more to him than it would to others. "Well, Andy, how do you size it up?" asked Dunk, when Pulter had gone back to his apartment and Andy and his chum sat in their cozy room before a crackling fire. "How do you mean?" asked Andy, to gain time. "Why, about Gaffington having that book. Didn't it look sort of fishy to you?" "It did in a way, yes. But his explanation was very natural. It all _might_ have happened that way." "Oh, yes, of course. But do _you_ believe it?" "I don't know why I shouldn't. Gaffington's folks have no end of money, you know. He wouldn't be guilty of taking a book. If he did want to crib something he'd go in for something big." "Well, some of these quadrangle robberies have been big enough. There's my watch, for instance." "What! You don't mean you believe Gaffington is the quadrangle thief!" exclaimed Andy, in surprise. "I don't believe it, exactly, no. If he's rich, as you say, certainly he wouldn't run the risk for the comparatively few dollars he could get out of the thefts. But I will admit that this book business did make me suspicious." "Oh, forget it," advised Andy, with a laugh. "I don't like Gaffington, and I never did, but I don't believe that of him." "Oh, well, I dare say I'm wrong. It was only a theory." "I would like to know who's doing all this business, though," went on Andy. "It's probably some of the hired help they have around here," suggested Dunk. "They can't investigate the character of all the men and women employed in the kitchens, the dormitories and around the grounds." "No, that's right. I only hope my friend Link doesn't fall under suspicion." For a week or so after this, matters went on quietly at Yale. There were no further thefts and the authorities had begun to hope there would be no more. They had about given up the hope of solving the mystery of those already committed. Then came a sensation. Some very valuable books were taken one night from Chittenden Hall--rare volumes worth considerable money. The next morning there was much excitement when the fact became known. "Now something will be done!" predicted Andy. "Well, what can they do that hasn't already been done?" asked Dunk. "They may make a search of every fellow's room. I wish they'd come here. Maybe they'd find that my watch, after all, has hidden itself away somewhere instead of being taken." "They're welcome if they want to look here," said Andy. "But I don't believe they'll do that. They'll probably get a real detective now." And that was what the Dean did. He disliked very much to call in the public police, but the loss of the rare books was too serious a theft to pass over with the hiring of a private detective.