e were fixing up something."

The boys went off in different directions, and Harry, who was one of the
other boys, said to Arthur:

"If Pete Herring and those sneaks are not plotting against the new
fellow, I'll miss my guess."

"Well, it may not be against him," replied Arthur, "but it probably has
to do with some of the new fellows or with the little ones. Herring and
his crowd are always pestering them."

"If they try to make any trouble for Jack, they will get all that's
coming to them," laughed Billy Manners.

"Yes, you found out that he could take care of himself, didn't you?"
asked Arthur with a chuckle.

"There were others," replied Billy with a grin.

Herring and his accomplices found a chance to meet again later when
there was no chance of being interrupted by any of Jack's friends, and
the bully laid his plans before the rest.

"That's all right," said Merritt.

"Couldn't have fixed it up better myself," added Holt.

"That'll do the trick," said another.

Some time later, with still considerable time before supper, Jack
happened to be passing the rear of the house where Bucephalus was at
work on a wagon.

"Dey was a tullyphome message fo' yo', sah," said the man. "Yo' was to
call up two-fo'-six as soon as conwenient."

"Where is the booth, Bucephalus?" asked Jack.

"Raght in bahn, sah. Dere am a switch fo' mah conwenience. Yo'll fin' it
cluss to de do', sah."

"All right," and Jack went into the barn, where he saw a telephone
receiver and transmitter on a little shelf near the door.

He took down the receiver and called up the number which Bucephalus had
given him, waiting a moment for an answer.

"Hello, who is this?" he presently heard over the wire.

"John Sheldon. I was told to call you up. Who is this and what do you
want of me?"

"This is Jones, down at the station. There is an express package for you
here that has to be signed for. Better come after it."

"Can't you send it?" asked Jack, who thought that the voice sounded
rather too near to come from the station below.

Furthermore, it seemed to him that it sounded suspiciously like that of
Peter Herring, the leading bully of the Academy.

He had not had much conversation with the fellow, but what he had had
was sufficient to make him remember the voice, and he had a good memory
for all voices.

"No, I can't send it now. Haven't got any one to send. You can take a
short cut through the woods as you leave the Academy and ge