remarked Tom, as he and his chums were walking down the corridor to their room.
"Pretty fair," admitted Phil. "Hold on a minute, fellows; I want to see something."
"What?" asked Tom.
"If there are any more keys in the door," answered the quarter-back, "and also whether anyone is in there. Listen!"
They approached their portal cautiously, and waited in silence for a moment, but heard no sound. Then they entered, finding no false key in the lock.
But, no sooner were the chums in their apartment, than they were made aware of something strange. As if by common impulse, they came to a stop in the middle of the floor. Then Tom cried:
"Listen! Our old clock! The alarm clock!"
A loud ticking was heard—a tick different from that of the mahogany timepiece. Tom switched on the light.
There, on the mantle, in the place where it had always rested, was their battered old relic! They gazed at it, scarcely able to believe their eyes. Then Sid remarked:
"The clock has come back!"
"And only increases the mystery," added Tom, slowly.
