"No, but I expect a letter to-morrow. If it doesn't come, I'll have to wait till I get home."
Dave was in advance and was the first to throw open the dormitory door. As he did so, a powerful smell of onions greeted him.
"Great Cæsar!" he ejaculated. "Smells like an onion factory up here. Somebody must have been eating a dozen or two. Open the window, Phil, while I make a light."
"Hello, what's this!" spluttered Ben, and fell headlong over something. "A decayed cabbage! Who put that on the floor?"
"Look out, everybody!" shouted Roger. "I just stepped on something soft. Phew! Some decayed sweet potatoes!"
By this time Dave made a light, and all of the boys who had come up gazed around the dormitory. Then a cry of amazement and anger arose.
"Somebody has been heaving decayed vegetables all over the room!"
"Yes, and ancient eggs, too! This is an outrage!"
"Here is a rotten cabbage in my trunk!" called out Roger. He held the object at arm's length. "I'd like to soak the fellow who did it!" he added, savagely.
With caution, all made an investigation. They found their clothing and other belongings disarranged, and decayed vegetables, stale eggs, and sour milk were everywhere in evidence. It was a mess bad enough to make them weep.
"We ought to report this," was Phil's comment. "I don't mind real fun, but this is going too far."
"This stuff must have come from the cellar," put in Buster Beggs. "I heard the head cook telling Pop Swingly that the place must be cleaned out, or he would report it to the doctor. Swingly said he didn't know the bad stuff was there."
"Well, Swingly didn't put the stuff here," put in Dave. "It's the work of some of the other fellows."
"I know where the janitor is!" cried Ben. "Shall I go down and question him? Maybe he can give us a pointer."
"And I'll go along," added the senator's son, and a moment later the two boys were off.
While the pair were gone, the others surveyed the damage done. The most of the decayed vegetables were swept into a corner, and then the boys did what they could toward straightening out their things.
"Here's a stale egg in my hat-box!" groaned Sam. "I'd like to throw it at some fellow's head!"
Dave had found his trunk open, and was searching the box with care. Suddenly he gave a loud cry: