gaged trying to bring order out of chaos in the freshmen ranks, made for Mr. Zane's room.
"We'll make him think a cyclone has broken loose," declared Dutch, gleefully. "It will be rich."
Now Mr. Zane was the personification of neatness. His room was as well arranged as the stateroom of the captain on an ocean liner. There was a place for everything, and everything was always in its place.
But the mischief-making students had not been inside more than three minutes, before the apartment did indeed look as though a looting burglar had been at work. Drawers of bureaus were pulled out, books were scattered all about, the chairs were piled up on the tables, a couch was turned over, and some of the incandescent light bulbs removed.
"Now let's turn every picture with the face to the wall," proposed Dutch, with a chuckle.
"Great!" declared Joe Jackson.
"Immense!" echoed his brother.
They were in the act of turning the etchings and engravings about face, when there came a sudden knock at the door. If thunder had sounded in the room the lads could not have been more surprised. They looked at each other in consternation. The knock was repeated.
"Co—come in," stammered Holly.
