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The Rover Boys in the Jungle Part 8

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For ten or fifteen minutes nothing occurred to disturb Sam, and he was just beginning to think that watching was all nonsense when he saw a dark figure creeping along the wall at the extreme lower end of the hallway, where it made a turn toward the back stairs.

"Hullo, who's that?" he muttered. "It doesn't look much like Mr.

Strong."

He continued to watch the figure, and now saw that it was dressed in a black suit and had what looked like a shawl over its head.

"That's queer," went on the boy. "What can that man or boy be up to?"

Presently the figure turned and entered one of the lower dormitories, closing the door gently behind it. Then it came out again and made swiftly for the rear of the upper hallway. By this time Sam was more curious than ever, and as the figure disappeared around the bend by the back stairs he followed on tiptoes.

But as what light there was came from the front, the rear was very dark, and the youth could see little or nothing. He heard a door close and the lock click, but whether or not it was upstairs or down he could not tell.

For several minutes he remained in the rear hallway, and then he went back to his post. Soon Tom came out to relieve him, and Sam re-entered the dormitory and told his story to the others.

"That's certainly odd," was d.i.c.k's comment

"Was it a man or a boy, Sam?"

"I can't say exactly. If it wasn't a man it was a pretty big boy."

"Perhaps we ought to report the matter to Captain Putnam,"

suggested Frank. "That person may have been around the hallways for no good purpose."

"Oh, pshaw! perhaps it was somebody who was trying to spy on us,"

put in Fred. "If we tell the captain we will only be exposing ourselves, and I guess you all know what that means."

"It means half-holidays cut off for a month," said d.i.c.k.

"Besser you vait und see vot comes of dis," said Hans, and after a little more talk this idea prevailed, and then the boys went in to clear up what was left of the feast. Everything was gone but a little ice-cream, and it did not take long to dispose of this.

Sam was bound to have some fun, and instead of eating his last mouthful of cream he awaited a favorable opportunity and dropped it down inside of Fred's collar.

"Great Scott!" roared Fred Garrison. "Whow!" And he began to dance around. "Oh, my backbone! That's worse than a chunk of ice! Oh, but I'll be frozen stiff!"

"Go down and sit on the kitchen stove," suggested d.i.c.k.

"Sit on the stove? I'll sit on Sam's head if I get the chance!"

roared Fred, and made a rush for Sam. A scuffle ensued, which came to a sudden end as both sent a washstand over with a loud crash.

"Wow you've done it!" cried Frank. "That's noise enough to wake the dead."

"Great Caesar, stop that row!" burst out Torn, opening the door.

"Do you want to bring the captain down on us at the last minute?"

"Clear up that muss, both of you," said d.i.c.k to Sam and Fred. But the latter demurred. It was Sam's fault--he started the racket.

"I won't touch it." And Fred proceeded to go to bed.

"I reckon we had best dust," said one of the boys from another dormitory.

"So you had!" burst out Tom. "I hear somebody coming already,"

and in a twinkle the outsiders ran for their various quarters, leaving the occupants of Dormitory No. 6 to fix up matters as best they could.

It was no easy job to straighten out the washstand, clear up the general muss, and disrobe. But the boys were on their mettle, and in less than two minutes the light was out and all were under the covers, although, to be sure, Sam had his shoes still on and Tom was entirely clothed.

"Boys, what is the row up here?" The call came from Captain Putnam himself. He was ascending the front stairs, lamp in hand, and attired in a long dressing gown.

As no one answered, he paused in the upper hallway and asked the question again. Then he looked into one dormitory after another.

"All asleep, eh? Well, see that you don't wake up again as soon as my back is turned," he went on, and soon after walked below again, a faint smile on his features. He knew that boys were bound to be more or less mischievous, no matter how strict his regulations.

"I'll tell you what, the captain's a brick!" whispered Tom, as he began to disrobe noiselessly.

"So he is," answered Frank. "You wouldn't catch old Crabtree acting that way. He'd have bad every cadet out of bed and sent half a dozen of us down to the guard-room."

"I guess the captain remembers when he was a cadet himself,"

remarked d.i.c.k. "I've heard that they cut up some high pranks at West Point."

"George Strong would be just as kind," came from Tom. "But say, I am growing awfully tired."

"So am I," came from several others,

Then the good-night word was pa.s.sed, and soon all of the cadets were sound asleep, never dreaming of the surprise which awaited them in the morning.

CHAPTER VII

WHO WAS GUILTY?

"Boys, I've had my trunk looted!"

"And I've had my trousers' pockets picked!"

"And the half-dollar I left on the bureau is gone!"

Such were some of the excited exclamations which the Rover boys heard when they went downstairs the next morning. The speakers were the youths who occupied Dormitories Numbers 3 and 4, at the rear of the main upper hall. An inquiry among the lads elicited the information that everybody had suffered excepting one boy, who said he had not had any money on hand.

"I spent my last cent for the spread," he grinned. "I guess I'm the lucky one."

The news of the robberies created a profound sensation throughout Putnam Hall, and both Captain Putnam and George Strong were very much disturbed.

"We never had such a thing occur before," said the captain, and he ordered a strict investigation.

All told, something like thirty-two dollars were missing, and also a gold watch, a silver watch, and several s.h.i.+rt-studs of more or less value. Among the s.h.i.+rt-studs was one set with a ruby belonging to a cadet named Weeks.

The investigation revealed nothing of importance. The robbery had been committed during the night, while the owners of the money and the various articles slept.

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