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DAVE PORTER AND HIS CLASSMATES

keyhole of the door, and a row of books on the floor against the doorsill.

"Now we'll have a little better layout than that provided by Mr. Dictatorial Haskers," said Dave, and he proceeded to arrange some of the schoolbooks in a square in the center of the floor. "Might as well have a table while we are at it."

"And a couple of chairs," added Phil, and arranged more books for that purpose. Then they spread a sheet of paper over the "table," put a plate at either end, and the two sat down.

"It's a shame to make you eat without a fork, Phil," said Dave, solemnly. "But if you'd rather go hungry——"

"Not on your collar-button!" cried the shipowner's son. "A pocketknife is good enough for me this trip," and he fell to eating with great gusto, and Dave did the same, for what food they had had before had only been "a flea bite," as Dave expressed it.

Having eaten the most of the food taken from the pantry they placed the remainder on the plates on a bookshelf. Then Dave looked at his watch.

"Half-past eight," he said. "Wonder how long we are to be kept here?"

"Don't ask me, I was never good at conundrums," answered Phil, lightly. Plenty to eat had put him in a good humor. "Maybe till morning, Dave."