“I’m having a bully time,” he told the coach. “Been sitting on the bridge all the morning throwing pebbles into the water.” “Good stuff,” replied the voice at the other end. “Go back this afternoon and throw the rest in.” “No, I think I’ll go to sleep!” laughed Dan. “Everything all right? If you want me, say so and I’ll come over.” “Don’t want you at all. Don’t want to see you until eleven to-morrow forenoon. Everything is all right here. And I think we’re going to have a fine day to-morrow. How’s your appetite?” “It’s awful! I can’t get enough.” “Well, don’t overdo it. Better eat light this evening, Vinton. Eat what you want, though. Feeling pretty well, are you?” “Like a fighting cock, sir!” “That’s fine. Keep it up. Go to bed early to-night and get some more sleep. Good-by.” Dan had the dining-room pretty much to himself that noon and was rather glad of it, since he was a little bit ashamed of the way he ate. He felt like apologizing to Mary, the waitress, and to the proprietor. After dinner he lounged upstairs to the room, feeling delightfully sleepy, found a magazine that Gerald had thoughtfully added to the contents of one of the bags and tried to read. But ten minutes later he was stretched out on top of the bed fast asleep. CHAPTER XXII KENDALL EXPLAINS Dan slept for two hours and might have slept longer had it not been that a little cool breeze began to find its way through the wide-open windows. It was after half-past three then, and he went downstairs and wrote a letter home. And finally, at a little before five, there was a terrific honking in the distance, followed presently by the appearance of a cloud of dust down the road and eventually by the arrival of the Pennimore car and the three conspirators. “Get in,” Gerald commanded. “We’re going for a ride before supper.” So Dan went up and got into his coat and soon they were off along the twilight road. That was a ride to remember. They were gone one hour and covered forty-three miles by the speedometer. And if there were four hungrier lads in the length and breadth of the land than those four when they sat down to supper, I envy them! After supper they went upstairs to what a white-enameled plate on the door informed them was the Ladies’ Parlor and Ned strummed tunes on the old yellow-keyed piano and they all sang and made as much noise as they pleased. Still later they donned sweaters or coats and went down to the porch and put chairs along the railing and sat there with their feet as high as their heads and talked. The breeze had subsided and the night was still and quite warm for the sixteenth of November. A big lob-sided moon climbed up over the tops of the naked elms and flooded the porch with light. They talked of many, many things; almost everything, in fact, except football. To have listened to them one might have thought that there was never such a thing as football. Finally Gerald said: