the classics.

Tom was engaged in the exciting, if forbidden, sport of trying to lift
the wig of the unfortunate professor from the ledge beneath his room
window, when there came a knock on his door.

"Oh ho!" ejaculated Bruce Bennington, as he entered. "Up to your old
tricks, I see. Well I can't blame you. I did the same thing once.
What are you after, a bottle of pop?"

"A wig," explained Tom, briefly. "Want a try for it?"

"Not me. I've got to walk pretty straight you know. I'm regarded as a
sort of professor now, and I suppose, if I did my strict duty, I'd
report you. But I'm off duty to-night. I say, Tom, are you ready now
for that experiment I spoke of?"

"Sure I am. But--" and Tom looked suggestively at the poker and
motioned downward to where the wig was still reposing.

"We'll get it up while you're gone," said Jack.

"You will not!" cried Tom. "Do you think I want to miss all the fun?
Wait until I get back. Will your experiment take long, Bruce?"

"It may take most of the evening. But the wig will keep, and you may
think up a better plan in regard to it. Why not substitute another for
it while you're at it?"

"By Jove! The very thing!" cried Jack.