"Good for you!" cried Dunk. "Wait until we get something to tackle him
with in case he fights."

"That's so," said Andy. "Here, I'll take our poker, and you can have the
fire tongs, Dunk."

From a brass stand near the fireplace Andy caught up the articles he
mentioned.

"Where's something for me?" asked Frank.

"Here, take the shovel," spoke Dunk passing it over. "Say, what sort of
a fellow was it you saw run out of your room?"

"I didn't have much chance to notice, he went so like a flash."

"Was it--er--one of our fellows--I mean a college man--did he look like
that?" asked Andy. He was conscious of the fact that he had rather
stammered over this. Truth to tell, he feared lest Link might have
yielded to temptation. Since the episode of Dunk's watch Andy had been
doing some hard thinking.

"Well, the fellow did look like a college chap," admitted Frank, "but of
course it couldn't be. No Yale man would be guilty of a thing like
that."

"Of course not!" agreed Dunk. "But say, if we're going to make a capture
we'd better get busy. Are you sure there's no way out from this
corridor, Andy?"

"Sure not. It ends blank. The fellow is surely trapped."

They hurried out into the corridor, and started down it, armed with the
fire irons. Though they had talked rather loudly, and were under
considerable excitement, no attention had been attracted to them. Most
of the rooms on that floor were not occupied just then, and if there
were students in the others they did not come out to see what was taking
place.

"Say, it would be great if we could capture the thief!" said Dunk.

"Yes, and end the quadrangle mystery," added Andy.

"I don't care so much about ending the mystery as I do about getting
back my tennis cup and the book," spoke Frank.

"What sort of a book was it?" Andy inquired.

"A reference work on inorganic chemistry," answered Frank. "Cost me ten
plunks, too. I can't afford to lose it for I need it in my work."

"Some book!" murmured Andy, as the three hastened on.

They tried door after door as they passed, but most of them were locked.
One or two opened to disclose students dressing or shaving, and to the
rather indignant inquiries as to what was wanted, Dunk would exclaim
hastily:

"Oh, we are looking for a fellow--that's all."

"Hazing?" sometimes would be inquired.

"Sort of," Dunk would answer. "No use telling 'em what it is until we've
got something to show," he added to his companions. The