"I declare," Merriwell added, "it makes me wish that winter had come so that I could see a roaring old blaze of logs here. Doesn't that strike you about right?" As Page made no response, he turned to look at his classmate, and then discovered that the secret door to the fireplace had been closed. With his eyes turned upward and seeing the little patch of light at the top of the chimney he had not noticed that the light from the room had been shut off. "Hello, there!" he called, feeling along the wall to find the door. "I'm no freshman." There was no sound from Page's room. Frank found a match in his pocket and struck it. From inside it was easy enough to distinguish the outlines of the secret door that concealed the fireplace. It was not possible, however, to discover any way by which it might be opened. The latch was the kind used on doors, but strong, and with no knob on the inside. Frank pushed against the door with some force. It did not yield in the least degree. "Seems to me," he thought, "that Page has a queer idea of fun to lock me in like this. I've a good mind to kick the door down." He thought a moment before deciding to do this, and reflected that it would hardly be a good-natured way of treating the joke. If Page meant to have some fun with him by making him a prisoner, the joke would be all the more successful if Merriwell should get mad about it and break open the secret door. "I think," thought Frank, "that I'll get even with Page for this in a way that will surprise him." His match went out just then and he began to feel in the darkness of the stones that made the chimney. They were untrimmed stones, so that the interior surface was very irregular. Just above his hand, but within reach, was an iron bar crossing the chimney; it was put there to bind the walls. Frank drew himself upon this and then, being in the narrow part of the chimney, was able to work his way upward by clinging with hands and feet to the rough edges of the stones. It was slow progress, but not difficult, and sure. The only question would be whether the opening at the top of the chimney would be large enough to permit of his crawling through. He had got about halfway up when he halted in his journey. He had heard voices, and he recognized both of them. He knew that he was on the level of the room above Page's, and he realized that the sounds of talking came to him distinctly because there was a fireplace there that connected with this same chimney. The voices he heard were those of Prof. Babbitt and Instructor Frost. "The fact is, Frost," Babbitt was saying, "I'm aiming this examination at certain men in the class, and I've no hesitation in saying so. There's that fellow, Merriwell, for example; I'd like to force him to do more studying." CHAPTER III. TURNING THE TABLES. "This is growing very interesting," thought Frank, bracing his knees against the stones of the chimney so that he could hold his position easily.