"Le-let go—don't strangle me! N-no—it's all right. I was only fooling."
"Then, where is it?"
"In the—the closet—on the top shelf."
Dave dropped his hold and ran to the closet pointed out. True enough, on the top shelf, in a back corner, were the books, with the precious photograph between them. Dave lost no time in placing the picture in an inside pocket.
"You're a fine fellow, not to take a bit of fun without getting mad," grumbled Gus Plum. He did not dare to say too much in such a crowd.
"So you call this fun?" remarked Phil, sarcastically. "Fun! to play the scavenger and bring this stuff up here? Well, I must say, I don't like your preference for a calling."
"Look here, you needn't call us scavengers!" howled Nat Poole. "I am a gentleman, I am!"
"Well, you brought this up here, you and Plum."
"It was only a—re—a joke. Everybody has got to put up with jokes to-night."
"Well, you are going to put up with a little hard work," came from Roger.
"Work?"
"Yes. You and Plum are going to clean up the muss and put this room in apple-pie order."
"Huh! I see myself doing it!" stormed the aristocratic youth.
