ment the three chums stood in the middle of the room, gazing at each other.
"Doesn't it seem lonesome without the old chair," spoke Phil at length.
"Sort of makes the room look bigger though," declared Sid, as he threw himself on the sofa. It was a poor consolation at best.
"I can't imagine what has become of it," said Tom, as he proceeded to get into some lounging clothes.
"Well, now for some boning, and maybe we'll forget our troubles," went on Phil, as he scattered a pile of books, looking for his own.
"Are you going to the football meeting tonight?" asked Tom, as he finished a hurried toilet, for a session of the squad had been called late that afternoon to consider the loss of Kerr and Molloy.
"I may come over later," spoke Phil. "I think the best thing we can do is to"
He paused suddenly, and glanced quickly toward the shelf that served as a mantle. The gaze of his chums followed. The room seemed suddenly to become oppressively still. They could almost hear each other breathing. Then the same thought came to all three.
"The clock!" they exclaimed in a tragic chorus.
"It's gone!" gasped Tom.
"Vanished!" added Phil, staring at the vacant
