lize the enormity of his offense as he
replied:

"I don't know, but I'll be the goat. What's the answer?"

A gasp of amazement sounded around the room.

"Master Gregory Holmes," uttered Old Dut sternly, "ten checks for that
impertinence. And go and stand in the corner by the piano. Turn your
back to the school that you've insulted!"

At that moment there came a rap on the door. Then a young man entered,
handing a sealed envelope to the principal.

"Master Prescott, put your books away and come here," directed Old Dut.

The class looked on wonderingly, while Dick obeyed.

"Here is a note from your mother, which requests that you be allowed to
go home at once, as your father has been injured in an accident. I hope,
my boy, that it is nothing serious," said the principal in a low tone.
"Your mother has sent a carriage in order that you may get home sooner.
Go at once, Master Prescott, and may you learn that the news is not too
bad."

Old Dut held out the note, but Dick barely saw it. Instead, he turned
and ran to the coat room, caught up his coat and cap and sped
downstairs. The messenger had already started downstairs.

"There's the rig," announced the messenger, as Dick appeared on the
steps.

Alongside a surrey was drawn up. A rain curtain and side panels covered
the rear seat, but the driver, a silent individual, who had a full,
heavy red beard and wore smoked glasses over his eyes moved to make room
for Dick on the front seat.

"How badly is dad hurt?" demanded Dick breathlessly, as he bundled
himself in on the front seat.

"Can't say," replied the driver, in a low, weak voice. "I was only hired
to come after you."

"Hurry!" appealed Dick. The driver nodded, and started the horse away
briskly.

Young Prescott was fearfully worried. His mother was a woman of cool,
calm judgment. She was not likely to send a driver after him unless his
father's injuries were dangerous.

"I hope dad isn't going to die," breathed the boy to himself. "If he
must, then I hope I get home in time before he goes."

So absorbed was he in his own gloomy thoughts that Dick gave no heed to
the road that was taken. Nor had the surrey gone far when the rain
curtain behind parted, but Prescott did not see that.

Yet he had no suspicion of foul play until a pair of hands from behind
gripped him about the throat.

In a twinkling Dick was drawn over the back of the front seat. Then he
vanished behind the curtain.

"Anybody in t