"Oh, shucks! I'm Tad Butler," answered the boy, hastily releasing his
prisoner, and, more crestfallen than he would have cared to admit,
assisting the Professor to his feet.

"What do you mean, you young rascal?" demanded the Professor, grasping
the boy by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. "I say, what do
you mean by playing such pranks on me as this? Why, I might have shot
you. I--"

"You are wrong, Professor; I have not intentionally played pranks on
you--"

"Yes you have--yes you have," fumed the Professor.

"I might accuse you of doing the same thing to me, only I know you
didn't get up in the middle of the night to play hide and seek with a
boy--"

"Then what does this mean? Answer me instantly!"

"I can do so easily. The fact is, I heard somebody prowling around.
The slight noise awakened me--"

"I should think it might," snarled Professor Zepplin.

"And, without waiting to dress, I slipped out--"

"And led me a nice chase. Look at me. There isn't a spot on my body
that isn't black and blue. And to think I've been running around here
in my bare feet trying to catch you--"