omery was acting on his
own account or for Merwell and Jasniff, and he also wondered what the
mysterious letters and documents and photographs could be. Was it
possible that Laura had once given her photograph to Merwell, or had it
taken when in that rascal's company? If the latter was true, Merwell
would know that the Porters would give a good deal to get the picture,
and have the negative destroyed.

"Perhaps it is only a scheme to get me to Rockville and to some place
where Jasniff and Merwell can lay hands on me," he mused. "They'd like
nothing better than to black my eyes and pound me to a jelly. If I go
there alone I'll have to keep my eyes wide open."

Then Dave remembered what the doctor had said about being a poor man and
needing money. Perhaps the fellow thought to "bleed him," not only in
the interest of Jasniff and Merwell, but also for himself.

"He'll not get a cent out of me unless he has something of real value to
turn over to me," Dave decided. "If it's only a blackmailing scheme,
he'll find me as sharp as himself." He could make nothing of the fact
that the doctor had at first tried to avoid him.

He was half tempted to tell Roger and Phil about the affair, but at last
decided to see it through alone. If there really was something in it
about private letters and photographs he would prefer that his chums
know nothing of it.

All that evening and throughout Friday, Dave was very thoughtful. His
chums noticed it, and Roger and Phil both asked what was wrong.

"Nothing wrong," he answered, with a faint smile.

"You've got something on your mind, Dave," went on the senator's son.
"Struck a new girl, or has Jessie struck a new fellow?"

"Not as bad as that, Roger. I was just wondering if I should buy a red
necktie or a blue one."

"Rats! It's a girl, I'll wager a new hat."

"Or else Dave is thinking out some new essay with which to capture a
prize," suggested Phil.

"Don't you worry about me," answered Dave. "Come on out and have a
skate," and thus the subject was dismissed, for the time being.

The Leming River was in fine condition for skating, and fully two score
of students were out, some cutting fancy figures, and a few racing.
Among the number was Nat Poole, clad in a new crimson sweater and
wearing a brand new pair of long hockey skates.

"Nat is training for hockey," said Roger. "He says he is going to
organize a team."

"Well, we'll organize one, too," answered Dave. "I always did