"What have you to say, Ranger?" asked Dr. Mead, in a sterner voice than he had ever before used toward Jack. "I know you will tell the truth, for I have never yet known you to lie. But I must tell you that if I find that you are guilty it will go hard with you this time. I have put up with a good deal from the students, but this is too much." "I--I don't know what to say, sir," replied Jack, in a sort of daze. "I'm not guilty, I can assure you of that!" "It's one thing to say so and another to prove it," snapped Professor Grimm. "The evidence is all against you." "It's all circumstantial," interrupted Jack. "But rather conclusive," went on the irate professor. He detailed how he had seen Jack and his friends out late, how he had come upon them using arnica, and mentioned some of their pranks in the past, including the mock duel arranged between Professor Socrat the French teacher and Professor Garlach, the German instructor. "I admit I have played pranks in the past," said Jack frankly, "but I'm not guilty this time. All I ask is a chance to prove that I had no hand in this." "You don't deserve a chance!" exclaimed Mr. Grimm. "That's hardly fair," spoke Jack indignantly. "Don't talk back to me!" burst out the angry teacher. "I think your request is a fair one, Ranger," went on Dr. Mead. "I will give you twenty-four hours in which to prove that you had no hand in this. That is all now; you may go." Dr. Mead was a man of few words, but Jack knew he would be absolutely fair. So, bowing to the head of the school, and without a glance at his accuser, Jack left the office. "Whew!" exclaimed the youth, as he got outside. "I seem to be up against it harder than ever. Twenty-four hours to prove something that may take a week. Well, I've got to get busy, that's all." "Hello!" exclaimed a voice as Jack was walking along the corridor toward his room. "Whasmatternow? Betcher Ic'nguess!" and the voice evolved itself into a good-natured looking lad, who stretched a big wad of gum from his mouth, and slowly got it back again by the simple but effective process of winding it about his tongue. "Hello, Budge Rankin!" exclaimed Jack, as he saw the queer, bright lad who had lived near him in Denton, and for whom Jack had secured the place of second janitor at the school. "So you think you know what the trouble is?" "Betcherlife," replied Budge, who had a habit of running his words together, a habit which his gum-chewing did not tend to relieve. "What is it?" "Accused you takin' that bell," went on Budge more slowly. "Hu! Wanterbe a detective?" "How did you know it?" asked Jack, a little surprised at Budge's remark. "Easy. Heard 'em talk. Transom open," was his answer. "What do you mean about me turning detective?" "Lookerthis," Budge said, quickly holding out a small object to Jack. "Found it in Grimm's room, 'sIsweptout." "You found it in Mr. Grimm's room as you swept it out?" inquired Jack, not certain he had heard aright.