“S’posin’ them hornets lift the lid of the desk and come out before the teacher gets here?” suggested Will Horton.

“What are you talking about?” was the scornful question of Dick Culver; “how can a hornet raise the lid of a desk?”

“I don’t mean that one will do it, but, if they all join together and put their shoulders to it, they’ll lift more than you think.”

But this contingency was too vague to be feared.  A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Lathrop entered the building with his brisk step, bidding such children as he met a pleasant good afternoon, and hanging his hat on the peg in the wall behind his desk, rang the bell for the children to assemble, and took his seat in his chair on the platform.

The observant instructor quickly saw that something unusual was in the wind.  There was a score of signs that he detected in the course of a few minutes, but he could have no idea what it all meant.  He was on the alert, however, and did not remain long in suspense.

The first hint was the sound of loud and angry buzzing within his desk.  While wondering what it meant, and in doubt whether to investigate, he observed a hornet emerging through the key-hole.  Before it could shake itself free, he shoved him back with his key, which was inserted and turned about, so effectually blocking the opening, that the insects were held secure.

The teacher read the whole story, and it needed only a brief study of Tom Britt’s actions to make sure that he was the guilty one.

Much to the disappointment of the boys, Mr. Lathrop seemed to find no occasion for opening his desk.  It remained closed through the whole afternoon and, when the moment for dismissal arrived, the only one to remain was Tom Britt, who, while conducting himself fairly well, had made a bad failure with every recitation.  His mind seemed to be too pre-occupied with some other matter to absorb book knowledge.

The boys loitered around the playground, waiting to see the end of it all.  Tom sat with his hands supporting his head, and his elbow on the desk, morose, sullen and disappointed.

“I wonder if he suspects anything,” he muttered; “I don’t see how he can, for nobody told him.  It’s queer he has never opened his desk all the afternoon.  I never knew him to do anything like that before—­Gracious alive!”

Just then Tom felt as if some one had jabbed a burning needle into his neck.  Almost at the same instant came a similar dagger thrust on the top of his head, where he always wore his hair short.  Uttering a gasp of affright, he leaped from his seat, with a score of fierce hornets buzzing about his ears.  The terrified glance around the room showed that the teacher had slipped noiselessly out of the door, but, before doing so, he had raised the lid of his desk to its fullest extent.

The next moment Tom bounded through the door, striking at the insects that were doing painful execution about the exposed parts of his body.  It was not until after a long run that he was entirely freed of them and was able to take an inventory of his wounds.