"Hello, Dutch!" greeted Tom, as the big guard entered. "Anything wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"Oh, I didn't know, but I thought you looked as if you just met the proctor, who made you sweep and dust his room."
The others joined in the laugh against Dutch.
"Oh, can you fellows ever forget anything?" he asked, in accents of deep disgust, as he looked about for a place to sit down. "Where's the seat of honor, anyhow?" he demanded. "Am I to sit on the floor?"
"Oh, suit yourself," remarked Phil. "Our seat of honor hasn't yet come back from the realms of mystery."
"No, hang it all!" exclaimed Sid. "I'd give a good deal to know who has our old chair."
"What! Haven't you got that back yet?" asked Dutch. "Seems to me if I were you I'd make it a point to go in the room of every fellow in college until I found it."
"We've practically done that," declared Phil.
"In fact, we've done everything but offer a reward, and I guess we'll have to do that next."
"Just what sort of a chair was it that you lost?" asked Frank Simpson. "I've heard a lot about it since I came to Randall, but I don't exactly know whether it is a Turkish rocker or a Chinese teakwood affair with a cold marble seat."
