y agreed with
him.

They had now reached the turn of corridor where a short passage, making
an L, branched off. So far they had seen no trace of the thief.

"There's a big closet, or storeroom, at the end," explained Andy. "The
fellow may be hiding in there."

An examination of the few rooms remaining on this short turn of the
passage did not disclose the youth they sought. All of the doors were
locked.

"He may be hiding in one of them," suggested Dunk.

"If he is all we'll have to do will be to wait down at the other end, if
we don't find him in the store room," spoke Andy. "He'll have to come
out some time, and it's too high up for him to jump."

"It's queer we didn't hear him run past our room," remarked Dunk.

"He had on rubber shoes--that's why," explained Frank. "He went out of
my room like a shadow. At first I didn't realize what it was, but when I
found my stuff had vanished I woke up."

"Rubber shoes, eh?" said Andy. "He's an up-to-date burglar all right."

"Well, let's try the storeroom," suggested Dunk, as they neared it. They
were rather nervous, in spite of the fact that their forces outnumbered
the enemy three to one. With shovel, tongs and poker held in readiness,
they advanced. The door of the big closet was closed, and, just as Andy
was about to put his hand on the knob, the portal swung open, and out
stepped--Mortimer Gaffington.

"Why--er--why--you--you----!" stammered Andy.

"Did you--have you----?" This was what Dunk tried to say.

"Is he in there?" Frank wanted to know.

Mortimer looked coolly at the three.

"I say," he drawled, "what's up? Are you looking for a rat?"

"No, the quadrangle thief!" exclaimed Andy. "He went in Frank's room and
took his book and silver cup, and lit out. Came down here and we're
after him! Have you seen him?"

"No," replied Mortimer, slowly. "I came up here to get Charley Taylor's
mushroom bat. He said he stuck it in here when the season was over, and
he told me I could have it if I could fish it out. I had the dickens of
a time in there, pawing over a lot of old stuff."

"Did you get the bat?" asked Dunk.

"No. I don't believe it's there. If it is I'd have to haul everything
out to get at it. I'm going to give it up."

As he spoke he threw open the closet door. An electric light was burning
inside, and there was revealed to the eyes of Andy and his chums a
confused mass of material. Most of it was of a sporting character, and
belonged to the st