“Look!” answered his brother, and brought the case in.  “Somebody must have found it and left it here while I was asleep.”

“Very kind, whoever he was,” said Sam.  “Are the contents all right?”

Instead of answering Tom placed the suit case on a chair and started to unlock it.

“Hello, it’s unlocked!” he murmured.  “I thought I had it locked.”

He shoved back the clasps and threw the case open.  The contents were much jumbled, but he had expected this from the fact that the bag had been jounced out of the carriage.

“I guess the stuff is all here,” he said slowly, turning over the clothing and other things.  “Somehow, I thought I had more in the case, though,” he added presently.

“Don’t you know what you had?”

“Well—­er—­I packed it in a hurry, you know.  I wanted to go fishing, and so I got through as soon as I could.  Oh, I guess it’s all right.”

Tom was too lively a youth to pay much attention to his personal belongings.  Often he hardly knew what suit of clothing he had on or what sort of a necktie.  The only times he really fixed up was when Nellie Laning was near.  Why he did that only himself (and possibly Nellie) knew.

Sunday passed quietly.  Some of the boys attended one or another of the churches in Ashton, and the Rovers went with them.  Dudd Flockley and his cronies took a walk up the river, and reaching a warm, sunny spot, threw themselves down to smoke cigarettes and talk.

“Well, what did you do about the dress-suit case, Jerry?” asked Flockley with a sharp look at his crony.

“Returned it, as you know,” was the answer, and Jerry winked suggestively.

“I’d have flung the bag in the river before I would give it to such a chap as Tom Rover,” growled Larkspur.

“You trust me, Larky, old boy,” answered Jerry Koswell.  “I know what I’m doing.”

“Humph!”

“I said I returned the case, but I didn’t say I returned all that was in it.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Flockley.  “If you’ve got a secret, out with it.”

Koswell looked around to make certain that no outsider was near.

“I kept a few things out of the bag—­some things that had Tom Rover’s name or his initials on them.”

“And you are going to—­” went on Flockley.

“I am going to use ’em some day, when I get the chance.”

“Good!” cried Flockley.  “I’ll help you, Jerry!”

“And so will I,” added Larkspur.  “If we work it right we can get Tom Rover in a peck of trouble.”

On Monday morning the college term opened in earnest, and once again the Rovers had to get down to the “grind,” as Sam expressed it.  But the boys had had a long vacation and were in the best of health, and they did not mind the studying.

“Got to have a good education if you want to get along nowadays,” was the way Dick expressed himself.  “If you don’t learn you are bound to be at the mercy of anybody who wants to take advantage of your ignorance.”