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TOM DOESN'T TELL
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"Nonsense, don't worry. Why, that's nothing to what other classes have done. I remember hearing a story of how——"

But Sid's yarn was interrupted by a tap at the door, and Ford Fenton slid' in. There was rather a frightened look on his face.

"What's up, Fenton?" asked Sid.

"I don't know, but something is. They've carried Gladdus and Battersby into the infirmary, and there's a lot of scurrying about. They've sent for a doctor from town, and Moses and Proc. Zane have gone down to the pavilion."

"What for?" asked Tom.

"Blessed if I know. Say, but we broke up their singing all right, didn't we? It was great. My uncle says——"

"Shut up!" cried Tom, and there was such unusual irritability in his tone that the -other two looked at him in surprise. He saw it and went on: "I—I didn't exactly mean that, Fenton, old chap, but I'm—I'm all upset."

"For cats' sake, what about?" demanded Sid. "You don't mean to say you're worried because our class knocked out a couple of greasy old sophs?"

"Well, I—er——"

There came another interruption, and a lad entered.

"Here's the Snail," exclaimed Sid as Sam Looper crawled in and closed the door softly behind him.