ion, which made the Kansan get even redder in
the face. Badger thrust a hand into one of the upper pockets of his vest
and drew out another paper of the same kind.

"What does this mean?" he growled.

He dived frantically into other pockets. He knew that his position was
one hard to explain away, but, with a sort of recklessness, he was
determined to know if there were more papers of that kind anywhere about
him. He could not imagine how they came there, and the rather wild idea
occurred to him that he might have scribbled them over that way in his
sleep, for the coming examination had disturbed him and made his nights
a bit restless.

There were no other incriminating slips.

"I should like to know what it means myself," said Barton.

He looked sternly at Agnew, but the latter had now obtained control of
his countenance, and met the professor's suspicious look with an air of
innocent confidence. Agnew felt safe. The paper he had crumpled and
thrown under Badger's desk was the only one he had secreted about him.
So he knew that even if a search was forced, nothing of an incriminating
character could be discovered on him.

"I think I have put you in a mighty tight box, Mr. Buck Badger!" was his
gloating thought.

And again that look of triumph returned with such force that he could
hide it only by lowering his eyes, and did not raise them throughout the
rest of the hour.

That evening, while Morton Agnew was amusing himself with a game of
solitaire, and chuckling with glee over the clever manner in which he
had put Buck Badger in a "box," a rap sounded on the door of his room
that made him jump.

"Come in!" he said.

And Frank Merriwell walked in!

Agnew half-rose out of his chair.

"Sit down!" Merriwell urged, closing the door behind him.

Then he turned the key in the lock and dropped the key into his pocket.

"What do you mean by that?" starting to his feet in an agitated way.

"Sit down!" Frank again commanded, in a smooth, quiet tone, which,
however, sounded very ominous. Agnew looked toward the closed window,
and then dropped limply into the chair.

"It's two stories down, and a hard pavement below that window. I'd
advise you, Agnew, not to pitch yourself out of that on your head. It
would probably give the undertaker a job."

Agnew pushed the cards about, without knowing what he did, and stared at
Merriwell, his face white and his eyes anxious. He was afraid of
Merriwell. Of all the men at Ya