Ten seconds later and the two boys found themselves ensconced in the room Horatio called his “den,” although it was also his sleeping apartment.  But he had fixed it as near like a boy’s ideal of a lounging-place could be, the walls carrying the customary college pennants and a great variety of other things besides that gave them a rather crowded appearance.  Evidently Horatio believed it added to the charm, for he never entered that “sanctum” without an involuntary smile of appreciation.

Horatio closed the door softly after him.  Hugh had also noticed how he did this just as carefully when admitting him to the front hall; and as though he expected that this must have aroused a certain amount of curiosity, Horatio hastened to explain.

“You see, the poor woman is so excited, and in such a nervous condition, that she jumps up at the sound of a door closing, and starts to rush out into the hall, believing that Justin has got back home and hurried over to acquaint her with the joyous fact.  Each time her disappointment leaves her worse than before.  She will be needing Doctor Cadmus if this keeps on, as sure as anything.”

“Well, what is it you want to tell me, Horatio?” demanded Hugh, not even taking the trouble to drop down into the chair the owner of the “den” shoved toward him; for it seemed as though he must soon be on the jump—­there was evidently something hanging over their heads, which would be needing prompt attention.

“Why, it’s just this, Hugh,” began the other.  “K.  K. took a foolish notion he’d like to say he’d gone over the full course just for practice.  And, Hugh. he told me he meant to make use of the short-cut that crosses the old haunted quarry!”

Hugh started, and looked serious.

“Then, if anything has happened to K. K., it must have been while he was crossing that mile tract between the two main roads,” he went on to say, without hesitation.  Horatio nodded his head eagerly.

“I jumped to that same conclusion, Hugh, only I didn’t dare mention it to Mrs. Kinkaid.  I thought you ought to know first of all, and decide on the program.  It’s terrible just to think of it; and K. K. actually pretended to make light, too, of all those stories the farmers have been telling about that awful place.”

“Hold your horses, Horatio!” Hugh exclaimed.  “When I said that I wasn’t thinking of ghosts, or anything else unnatural.  I meant that in all probability poor K. K. met with some ordinary accident while on that stretch, and has been unable to continue his run.  He may have tripped on a vine he failed to see, and either broken his leg, or else sprained his ankle so badly that he can’t even limp along.  I’ve known such a thing to happen—­in fact, once I got myself in the same pickle, and had to crawl two miles to a house, every foot of the way on hands and knees, because the pain was frightful whenever I tried to stand up.  Well, the chances are K. K. has had such a thing befall him.”