"I've a good notion not to," said Housenlager a bit sulkily. "Here I come in to tell you fellows a piece of news, and I find you boning away, and when I start to talk you spout Latin mottoes at me. I've a good notion to dig out." "Stay! Stay, dear friend!" cried Tom, laughing. "There, we'll chuck studying for to-night, eh, Sid?" "Sure. I'm sick of it." "Now, say on," invited Tom. Somewhat mollified, Dutch took an easier position in the creaking chair, thereby raising a cloud of dust, and remarked: "Well, the freshman dinner will come off to-morrow night. It's just been decided." "Honest?" cried Sid. "Sure. Our committee has everything in shape, and we'll fool the sophs this time. Ford Fenton and I have been going around notifying the fellows. You see, we had to keep it quiet, because those sophs will put it on the blink if they can." "Sure they will," agreed Tom. "Where is it to be----" He stopped suddenly, for there was the sound of footsteps in the hall outside. "Some one is spying," whispered Sid. Softly he opened the door and then he laughed. "It's Fenton," he said as the other entered. "All through?" asked Dutch of his partner. "Yes. I don't believe the sophs suspect. A few years ago, when the freshmen had a dinner, the sophs ate it all up, and my uncle says----" Tom significantly reached for a heavy book, and Ford, with a disappointed look, stopped his reminiscence. "It's to be in Cardigan Hall, in town," explained Dutch, "and we'll start from here in a----" He paused in a listening attitude and tiptoed over to the door. Throwing the portal open suddenly, he darted into the hall, the others crowding up close to see what was going on. "Some one was out there," declared Dutch as he came back, "but I couldn't catch him. Maybe it was only one of our boys, though. Now I'll tell you the plans," and he proceeded to go into them into detail, telling Tom and Sid where to join the other freshmen the next night, in order to steal away to Haddonfield and hold their banquet undisturbed by the sophomores. Tom and Sid promised to be on hand, and the two members of the committee departed, Ford Fenton being unable to tell what it was his uncle had said. As Tom saw their guests to the door, something bright and shining in the hall attracted his attention. "It's a matchbox," he remarked as he picked it up. "It's got initials on, too." "What are they?" "Hum--look like H. E. G." "Horace E. Gladdus," said Sid. "I wonder if he was sneaking around here trying to catch on about the dinner?" CHAPTER XXVII TOM IS KIDNAPPED For a moment Tom looked at Sid. The same thought was in both their minds. "Had we better tell Dutch?" asked Tom. "It wouldn't be a bad plan." "All right, I'll let him know. If Gladdus and his crowd find out our plans they'll spoil 'em." So Tom hastened after Dutch Housenlager and related the finding of the matchbox and the suspicion engendered by it--that Gladdus had been listening in the hall.