“All the fellows are saying sneering things about me, too,” he went on, “because I don’t treat oftener. How can I treat when I don’t get any money? I’ve a good notion to write to dad, and tell him about it. If I only knew his exact address I would, but I’ll have to ask old Klopper, and then he’ll catch on. No, I suppose I’ve got to stand it. But I wish I could see that show to-night. I wonder if I couldn’t raise the money somehow? I might borrow it--no, that wouldn’t do. I don’t know when I could pay it back. If I had something I could sell----” He thought a moment, and then an idea came to him. “My catching glove!” he exclaimed. “It’s a good one yet, and Tom Berwick will give me a dollar for it. If I play shortstop this summer I’ll not need it. I’ll sell that.” Jack, who had been rather downhearted, felt better after he had reached this decision. He began rummaging in a closet that contained various articles, more or less intimately connected with boyish sports, and presently withdrew a large, padded catching glove. “It cost seven dollars, just before dad went away,” he remarked. “It’s worth three now, but I’ll let Tom have it for a dollar. That will give me enough to go to the show and treat the crowd I owe sodas to. I’ll do it. I’ll go to the show, no matter what Klopper says. But I’ve got to sneak out, for if he sees me he’ll stop me. Most likely he’ll be reading in the library this evening.” Jack knew his temporary guardian would not make him remain in his room without supper, for the professor was not needlessly cruel. As the June afternoon was drawing to a close, Miss Klopper, the professor’s sister, came to Jack’s door. “Here is your supper,” she said, handing in a tray, none too well filled. “My brother says you are to remain in your room until to-morrow morning, when he hopes you will have repented. I hope you will, too. Boys are such perverse creatures.” Jack said nothing. He took the tray, for he was very hungry. But he did not intend to remain in his room all that evening, when there was a vaudeville show in town. “It won’t be the first time I’ve gotten out of the window,” thought Jack, when Miss Klopper had closed the door. CHAPTER II AT THE SHOW Jack knew there was little fear of detection, for, on several other occasions, when he had been denied the privilege of going out on an evening, he had climbed from the window of his room, out on the roof of a low shed, and, by means of the lightning rod, to the ground. He intended doing it this time. He finished his supper, and wished it had been larger. But he consoled himself with the reflection that he could fill the void in his stomach later with an ice cream soda. “Now to get out,” said Jack, as he went to the door and listened, to see if the professor or his sister was about. He heard nothing.