He gazed out of the window, but could see nothing unusual. This done he retraced his steps to the door.
The moment he tried the handle he realized that something was wrong. He felt for the catch of the lock, but found that shoved down. Then he knew he was locked in.
"The young rascals!" he muttered, savagely. "Hi! Let me out!" he roared. "Do you hear? Let me out!"
No one answered his command, and he began to beat upon the door. Then he thumped so loudly that Pop Swingly, the janitor, came up, followed presently by Dr. Clay and Andrew Dale.
"Who's in there?" demanded the janitor, who had armed himself with a club.
"I am, Swingly. Let me out!"
"If it ain't Mr. Haskers!" ejaculated the janitor. "Who locked you in?"
"That is what I'd like to know. Did you see anybody around?"
"Not a soul, sir—everybody has gone to bed."
"No, some of the young rascals are around—I heard them go out hours ago, and I was waiting for them to get back."
"Did you say some of the students were out?" demanded Dr. Clay.
"Yes, sir."
"And they locked you in the storeroom?" asked
