removed. Then the students scampered away, turning down the light as before.
Once on the ground Job Haskers lost no time in getting away from the building. Each instant he expected another quake that would bring that noble pile of bricks, stone, and mortar to the ground. But the quake did not come.
"Queer!" he murmured, presently. "Didn't anybody else feel that awful shock?"
"Hi, you, throw up your hands, or I'll fill ye full o' buckshot!"
The cry came from behind him, and it caused Job Haskers to leap with a new fear. He turned, and in the gloom of the night saw a man approaching with a gun pointed full at him.
"Don't—don't sho—shoot me!" he gasped.
"Up with yer hands!" came from the man. "I cotches ye that time, didn't I? Now, wot are ye, a ghost, a burglar, or a student on a lark?"
"Wh—who are yo—you?" stammered Job Haskers. "Did you—er—feel the earthquake?"
Instead of answering the questions, the man came closer, until the barrel of his shotgun was within a foot of the teacher's head. Then he gave a cry of astonishment.
"Why, if it ain't Mr. Haskers! Wot in the world are you a-doin' out this time o' night, sir?"
