"Have you heard anything further of that thief?"
"Not a whisper. I guess he has gotten away for good."
As was their usual custom, the boys of dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 spent an hour Friday evening in putting their apartments in order. Suits were brushed and hung away, shoes were polished, rugs put down straight, and books and papers arranged in their proper order.
"I'll wager there isn't a dormitory in the school in better order than this one," was Phil's remark, after the task was finished.
"Do Plum and his crowd keep their room in any kind of shape?" questioned Dave.
"I don't think so, although I never go in it. There was a row over the room last spring, because some cigarettes and playing cards were found there. The doctor won't permit smoking, drinking, or card-playing."
"Which puts me in mind of a story I heard an engineer tell," came from Shadow. "An expert engineer wanted a certain job, and had to go before a board of examiners. He was asked if he could do this, that, and the other, and said yes. Then they asked him if he drank. 'You bet I do,' said the engineer. 'How much?' was the next question. 'Oh, not over a dozen glasses a day.' 'You can't have the job—we don't want a man
