CHAPTER V
FOOTBALL TALK
"Fellows, there is just one thing about it," announced Tom, firmly, when a hurried search of the room had only made it more certain that the clock was nowhere in it, "either we are the victims of a practical joke, or there is some mystery here that we will have to fathom."
"I'm inclined to think it's a joke," said Phil.
"Same here," agreed Sid, "only it's a pretty poor sort of a joke. First thing we know we won't have anything left," and he looked down at the sofa on which he was stretched out, as if to make sure that it would not take wings unto itself, and fly out of the window.
"Was the room locked?" asked Phil.
"Sure," spoke Tom. "Whoever came in must have used a false key."
"They're taking lots of risks," was Sid's opinion. "How could they tell but what we'd come back any minute and catch them red-handed?"
"Well, this is no joke," insisted Tom. "We've
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