"Just as I told you!" Andy exclaimed. "I knew the shade would come down. And see! there is the crack we mentioned. Now, then, line up under the window and we'll see what happens next." CHAPTER VIII THE JOKE ON THE SNEAK The window of Stowell's room had been left open so the boys outside could hear, as well as see, what went on within. They saw the sneak of the school yawn and stretch as if he was tired, and then he lost no time in preparing to retire. In one of his pockets he carried a piece of cake, and this he ate with satisfaction while undressing. Then, when clad only in his pajamas, he turned off the light and moved in the semi-darkness toward the bed. "Now watch," murmured Andy, somewhat excitedly. All outside did so, ranging their heads close together at the open slit of the window. They heard Stowell throw back the covers of the bed and then sit down. An instant later came a cry of surprise. "What's this? Oh, dear me! something is in the bed!" The sneak of the school bounced to his feet so hurriedly that he tipped over a chair standing alongside of the bed and pitched forward headlong to the floor. "Hi! Leave me alone! Get away from me! Scat!" they heard him ejaculate and then give a little squeal of terror as he scrambled once more to his feet. Then they heard him rush to the side of the room and once more make a light. As the rays filled the apartment those outside saw something of what had taken place. Not less than half a dozen mice were doing their best to hide themselves here and there under the bed and the chiffonier and in the corners of the room. One or two scampered directly past Stowell, who set up another squeal of alarm and then leaped up on the nearest chair. "He's enjoying it, all right," murmured Randy. "Shut up!" came promptly from Fred. "If he sees us we'll have to dust for it." But the eyes of the sneak were not turned toward the window. He was looking only at the mice, two of which were still scampering across the floor trying to find some hole of escape. "Somebody's been playing a trick on me," murmured Stowell to himself. "Just wait till I find out who did it, I'll fix him!" He remained standing on the chair, not caring to venture on the floor in his bare feet and with the mice still at liberty. He had placed his shoes under the head of the bed. "I've got to clear them out somehow," he muttered to himself. "But I guess I'd better put my shoes on first. Then I'll get that baseball bat in the closet and do it." With extreme caution Codfish descended from the chair and walked hurriedly across the floor to the head of his bed. He drew forth the shoes and started quickly to put them on. His toes were just going down into one of the shoes when he let out a yell which would have done credit to a wild Indian. One of the mice had found refuge in the footwear, and now it gave a bound and scrambled up inside the leg of Stowell's pajamas.