as he looked at it
more closely, "I think I did see it once."

"Oh, you did, eh?" said Professor Raymond quickly. "And when was that?"

"Two or three days ago," answered Fred. "I was gathering up my books in
your office, and I saw you put in your desk a package that looked just
like this one."

The professor's heart grew sick within him, as every new item seemed to
connect Fred more closely with the theft.

"You knew then that it was in my desk?" he went on. "Did you have any
idea of what the package contained?"

"Not then," answered Fred. "But, a little while afterward I was talking
with some of the fellows in the gymnasium, and they said it probably
held the examination slips for the algebra test."

"Do you remember anything else you said at that time?" asked the
cross-examiner.

"No-o," began Fred slowly. "Oh, yes, I remember saying what fun it would
be if one were a mind reader and could know just what you were going to
ask.

"But, Professor," he broke out, as the significance of all these
questions dawned upon him, "you don't think for the minute, do you, that
I stole this package from your desk?"

"I hardly know what to think," replied the professor sadly, "but I want
you to come right over with me to Doctor Rally's office."

Utterly stunned and overwhelmed by the blow that had fallen upon him,
Fred followed the professor. His limbs dragged, as though he were
walking in a nightmare. They crossed the campus, and went straight to
the room where Doctor Rally awaited them.

He motioned them to chairs, and sat there, stern and implacable as Fate,
his eyes seeming to bore Fred through and through, while the professor
told of the finding of the papers in Fred's locker, and the explanation,
or rather the lack of explanation, that Fred had offered.

"Well, young man," the doctor said, and, although his eyes were flaming,
his words were as cold as ice, "you seem to have put the rope around
your own neck by your admissions. Have you anything else to say?"

"What can I say?" burst out Fred desperately. "If telling the truth has
put the rope around my neck, I can't help it. I didn't take the papers,
and don't know a single thing about them. Every single word I've said is
true."

"But the papers were found in your locker," returned the inquisitor
coldly, "and they couldn't have got there of their own accord. Some one
put them there. If you didn't, who did?"

"I don't know," said Fred miserably.

"Have you a