A frightened ox in the place could have made no more noise. He tumbled over two chairs and finally went full length over an old hassock. He brought up with an awful crash against the big davenport in the corridor, where 'Phemie had tried to keep watch. And there, when he tried to scramble up, he got entangled in 'Phemie's quilt and went to the floor again just as a great light flashed into the corridor. The Colesworths' door stood open. Out dashed Harris in his pajamas and a robe. He fell upon the big body of Spink as though he were making a "tackle" in a football game. "Hold him! hold him!" gasped 'Phemie. "I've got him," declared Harris. "What's the matter, Miss 'Phemie?" "He's got the key," explained 'Phemie. "Make him give it up." "Sure!" said Harris, and dexterously twitched the entangled Spink over on his back. "By jove!" gasped the young man, standing up. "It's the professor!" "But he's got the key!" the girl reiterated. "What key?" "The one to the green door." "The door of the east wing?" demanded Harris, turning to stare at the open door, on the threshold of which 'Phemie stood. "Yes. I lost it. He found it. He's got it somewhere. I found him trying to break into grandfather's desk." "Bad, bad," muttered Harris, stepping back and allowing the professor room to sit up. "Your interest in old desks seems to be phenomenal, Professor. Did you expect to find Confederate notes in _this_ one?" "Confound you--both!" snarled Spink, slowly rising. "I don't mind it," said Harris, quietly. "But don't include Miss Bray in your emphatic remarks. _Give me that key._" CHAPTER XXVII THEY LOSE A BOARDER Harris had something beside a square and determined jaw. He had muscular arms and he looked just then as though he were ready to use them. Spink gave him no provocation. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a key. "Is this the one, Miss 'Phemie?" asked the young fellow. The girl stepped forward, and in the lamplight from the bedroom doorway identified the key of the green door--with its tag attached. "All right, then. Go to your room, Professor," said Harris. "Unless you want him for something further, Miss 'Phemie?" "My goodness me! No!" cried 'Phemie. "I never want to see him again." The professor was already aiming for the stairs, and he quickly disappeared. Harris turned to the still shaking girl. "What's it all about, Miss 'Phemie?" he asked. "That's what I'd really like to know myself," she replied, eagerly. "He is after something----" "So my father says," interposed Harris. "Father says Spink has something hidden--or has made some discovery--up there in the rocks." "I don't know whether he really has found what he has been looking for----" "And that is?" suggested Harris. "I wish we knew!" cried 'Phemie. "But we don't. At least, _I_ don't--nor does Lyddy. But he tried to buy the farm of Aunt Jane once--only he offered a very small price.