"He can find out what's up. How about it, Snail—any news?"
Sam blinked his eyes as if the light hurt him.
"I've been around—around," he said slowly, waving his hand to take in the whole compass of the college and grounds. "I saw 'em carry the two sophs away. They're badly burned and shocked. Langridge is a fool!" They had seldom seen the Snail so excited. "He went and strung a wire from the electric light circuit to the iron hand rail around the pavilion. Only he made a mistake in the connections and got the wires crossed with the powerful arc circuit. The incandescent is only a hundred and ten volts, while the arc is twenty-four hundred. Some difference. Only that they got a small part of it, they'd be dead instead of merely badly shocked."
Tom Parsons half uttered an exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Sid quickly.
"Oh, nothing. Go on, Snail."
"That's about all," came from Sam. "Pitchfork—he's a sort of doctor, you know—he's working over 'em now. I guess they'll be all right."
Tom started to leave the room.
"Where you going?" inquired Sid.
"Out. I—I must see what's happened!"
"You stay here!" ordered Sid, half fiercely.
"You'll be nabbed in a minute. Proc. Zane has his scouts out, waiting to corral everybody. Here,
