unfamiliar handwriting.

"I wonder who that's from," said Jack. "The best way to find out is
to open it."

He ripped the envelope down, and, as he did so, a piece of paper
fluttered to the ground. Picking the missive up, Jack read:

"It's a long lane that has no turns. I'll get even with you for
having me suspended and sent away from the Hall. My time will come
yet.

"Jerry Chowden."

"Jerry Chowden," murmured Jack. "So he's trying to scare me, eh? Well
I guess he'll find I don't scare."

Jack slowly folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. He
glanced at the postmark, and saw it was stamped "Chicago."

"Wonder how he got out there," he mused. "Well, I'm glad he's far
away," and he gave little more thought to the matter of the bully, a
nephew of Professor Grimm's, whose vain attempt to cast disgrace on
Jack, in the matter of painting a pipe on the professor's portrait,
had rebounded on his own head. He had been suspended for two months
for the escapade, which Jack was accused of, but which our hero
managed to prove himself innocent of, and, since leaving the Hall,
nothing had been heard of him.

"Maybe I'll meet him if I get out west on that strange hunt of mine,"