It was the night before the game with Dodville Preparatory School, which institution had an eleven not to be despised. They had met Randall on the diamond and were anxious to come to conclusions with them on the gridiron. Following some light practice, during which the fake tackle run and pass to half-back was worked to perfection, Sid, Tom and Phil went for a stroll along Sunny River. The placid stream had an attraction in the early evening that was absent at other times, and the three chums felt its influence as they walked along the banks. "Do you feel nervous about to-morrow's game?" asked Tom of Phil. "Not as much so as if it was against Boxer Hall," replied the quarter-back. "Of course I--I shall be worrying a bit for fear I'll get a message from Florida, but I'm going to try to forget it. I want to roll up a big score against Dodville." "And against Boxer Hall, too," added Sid. "Of course. But that's some time off, and we'll improve in the meanwhile. I fancy the game to-morrow will develop some weak spots that will need strengthening." They walked and talked for about an hour, and it was dark when they returned to their room. "No study to-night," remarked Phil, as he began to disrobe. "Me for pounding the pillow at once, if not sooner." "Same here," came from Tom, and he began taking off his things. "Last fellow to undress puts the light out," he added, and then there was a race. Tom and Phil leaped into bed almost at once, and Sid, leaving the light turned on, was scarcely a second behind them. There was a protesting howl from Phil and Tom at their chum's perfidy, but the next instant Tom uttered a yell. "Wow! Ouch! Something's in my bed!" he cried as he leaped out. "And in mine, too!" came from Sid. "It's a snake!" and reaching down between the sheets, he pulled out a long reptile. "Cæsar's Haywagon!" cried Phil. "I've drawn something, too!" and with that he held up a mudturtle. "Ten thousand thistles!" yelled Tom as he began pulling off his pajamas. "I'm full of needles!" CHAPTER XXII A CHANGE IN SIGNALS The scene in the room was one of confusion. Tom was dancing about, rubbing first here and then there on his anatomy. The snake which Sid held was wiggling as if in protest at being suspended by the tail, and was tying itself into all sorts of complicated knots and geometrical figures. "Look out, it may bite you!" cried Phil, who was holding the mudturtle by the tail, the feet of the animal working back and forth in a vain effort to get a grip on the air. "It isn't a poisonous snake," declared Sid, who was something of a naturalist. "But I wonder who played this trick on us? What ails you, Tom?" "Yes; what are you wiggling around in that fashion for, son?" inquired Phil, who began to laugh, now that the extent of the scare was evident. "Wiggle! I guess you would, too, if some one had filled your bed with needles that came right through your pajamas," replied Tom. "Needles?" from Sid.