uriously at the scene before
them.

The top of the tree had come straight through the big window of the
apartment, crashing down on a bureau and a writing-desk, smashing both
flat. Some branches of the tree rested on the side of the bed, pinning
Job Haskers against the wall, as if in a cage.

[Illustration: "HELP ME! SAVE ME!" SPLUTTERED THE TERROR-STRICKEN
TEACHER.--_Page 287_.]

"Help me! Save me!" spluttered the terror-stricken teacher. "I am
being crushed to death!"

"All hands to the tree!" shouted Mr. Dale, and showed what he meant.
Boys and men took hold of the tree-branches and pulled them to one
side.

"Are you much hurt, Mr. Haskers?" asked Doctor Clay, kindly.

"I--I don't know, I think so!" gasped the teacher. His face was white
and he was shivering from fright.

"Can't you crawl under the branches?" asked Mr. Dale. "Here, come this
way."

He showed how it could be done, and trembling from head to feet, the
scared teacher got out from under the tree-top. His face and one
shoulder were scratched, but otherwise he appeared to be unhurt. But
all were forced to acknowledge that he had had a narrow escape.

"You had better take one of the spare rooms, Mr. Haskers," said Doctor
Clay, as another blast of wind swept through the room. "You cannot
remain here, with this tree-top in the room. And I am afraid we shall
have to saw it up to get it out again. You can be thankful that your
life has been spared."

"The furniture is smashed!" murmured the teacher.

"Never mind the furniture, so long as you are not hurt. It can be
mended, and all the window needs is some new sash."

"My things have been scattered," grumbled the teacher. "A perfect
mess!"

"Leave it until morning--you can do nothing to-night," said the
doctor; and so it was finally decided, and teachers and pupils trooped
off to bed. The broken-in door was closed, but it could not be
locked.

The boys had scarcely gotten back to the dormitories when Dave called
Phil, Ben, Roger, and Buster to one side.

"Now is our chance," he whispered. "Did you notice that the bureau and
the writing-desk in Haskers's room were smashed? It may not be the
most honorable thing to do, but I think we are justified in looking
his things over and seeing if we can't find some clew to that letter
Jason Sparr received."

"Right you are!" declared Phil, promptly, and the others said
practically the same.

They waited until the other boys had retired once more, a