The street seemed clear, and he wondered where all the fellows could be, when of a sudden a tall form in dark clothes stepped right out before him.

He gave a gasp, for at a glance he seemed to recognize one of the professors.
"Young man," sternly said a familiar voice, "what have you there ?" "It's Professor Grant!" thought Frank, aghast.
The professor blocked his way.

What could he do?
Quick as a flash he swung the gobbler around and struck his challenger a smashing blow with it, knocking him sprawling.
Then he took to his heels, still holding fast to his capture.
In a moment he heard the sound of feet in pursuit, and he knew the outraged professor was after him.
Frank's heart was in his mouth, and he felt scared for the first time that night.

He was certain it would mean expulsion to be caught.
For all of the running he had done that night, he fled like a frightened deer, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

He had never dreamed that Professor Grant was a sprinter, but the man was running at great speed--seemed to be gaining.
"Stop, sir!" cried the pursuer.