CHAPTER XIII 

IN WHICH SOME SHOES ARE MISSING 

"What do you think of it?" 

"Who took them?" 

"We can't go downstairs in our bare feet." 

Such were some of the remarks made, as the lads of dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 looked at each other. The closets had been searched thoroughly but without success. 

"See here, if anybody in these rooms hid those shoes, I want to know it!" demanded Sam, gazing around sharply. 

"I hardly think a fellow would hide his own shoes, too," answered Luke. 

"He might,--just to hide his own guilt." 

"I believe this is the work of some outsider," declared Dave. "Most likely Nat Poole and his crowd." 

"By Jove, Dave, I believe you are right!" exclaimed Phil. "It would be just like them to do it, if they got the chance." 

"Did you say Nat Poole?" queried Shadow, scratching his head thoughtfully. 

"I did. Most likely Nat heard of our feast, and it made him extra sore to think we were having a good time and he wasn't invited." 

"That is true, and I guess----" Shadow stopped short, and a curious look crossed his face. 

"What is it, Shadow? Do you know anything of this?" asked Roger. 

"Why, I--er--that is, I had a dream last night," stammered the story-teller of the school. "Or, maybe it wasn't a dream after all," he went on, in confusion. 

"See here, Shadow, have you been sleep-walking again, and did you make off with our shoes?" demanded Phil. He remembered only too well how poor Shadow was addicted to walking in his sleep, and how he had once walked off with a valuable collection of rare postage stamps belonging to Doctor Clay. 
Does he have a kind look on his face?
gazing around sharply