forgot his key. Let's look and see if he took anything."
"The sofa's here, at any rate," spoke Tom, with a sigh of relief. "But maybe something else is gone."
"There are too many 'may-bees' for this time of the year," declared Phil. "The fellow might have run away as we came up; he might have taken his time ransacking our rooms, for we were long enough in the gym; he may be here now; he may have brought back our chair and alarm clock—only he hasn't," he added, after a quick glance about the room. "But, as I said, what's the use of speculating on what might be. We've got to get busy and solve this puzzle. We've got some sort of a clew in this key."
"Not much, though," from Tom.
"I think a lot," asserted Phil. "In the first place, it shows that it's been made by an amateur, and by someone who knows a little about making keys. Therefore, as we say in geometry, we must look for a fellow who knows how to use a file and a hack saw, and who understands locks."
"Are there any such in college?" demanded Sid.
"There may be."
"Let's put it up to Zane," suggested Tom. "He's friendly with us now, on account of the fire."
