"Only a little horse-play, Mom," replied the son, with a smile. "We are so glad to see the fellows that we have to let off a little steam." "It looked like a fight to me." "Oh, nothing like that, Mrs. Morr," said Dave, quickly. "Only fun; isn't that so, fellows?" "Of course!" was the quick reply. "Have you met Luke and Shadow, Mom?" asked Roger. "Yes, about an hour ago. I told them that you had telephoned that you were on the way home, so they said they'd remain out here, watching for you. I showed them what room they were to occupy," added the lady of the mansion. "Fine!" cried Roger. "I'll put the car away for the present, and then we'll fix up for dinner and listen to those stories Shadow had to tell." "Somebody said Buster Beggs was coming," said Luke. "Yes, he'll be here the night before the Fourth." Quarter of an hour later found the whole crowd of boys upstairs in the house. In anticipation of the Fourth of July party, as she called it, Mrs. Morr had turned over one wing of the second floor of the big house to the youths. There they could "cut up" to their hearts' content. "Say, this is something like old times at Oak Hall!" cried Phil, as the youths gathered in one of the bedrooms and proceeded to distribute themselves in various attitudes on the chairs and the bed. "Somehow, I think we are going to miss that school!" "Miss it! Well I guess yes!" answered Dave. "And that puts me in mind of something. I was thinking----" "Whoop! Is he going to tell stories, too?" "Say, Dave, that act belongs to Shadow." "No, I wasn't going to tell a story," answered Dave. "I've got an idea for a club." "A club? What do you mean?" asked Roger. "Do you mean for us to get up a club?" "Yes, the Oak Hall Club, to be composed of fellows who attended Oak Hall for a year or more." "Great!" "Let us do it!" "We'll make Dave president," cried Roger. "And you treasurer," added Phil. "And Shadow chief story-teller," put in Luke, with a grin. "Huh! What's the use of being chief story-teller when you won't let me tell a story?" grumbled Shadow. "But I know what I'll do," he added, with a sudden twinkle in his eye. "If you won't let me talk, I'll write it down. And I'll write a sentence none of you can read and be sure of," he went on. "What's that?" asked Phil, curiously. "A sentence none of us can read? Maybe you'll write it in Choctaw, or Chinese." "No, I'll write it in plain, every-day United States, and none of you will be sure how to read it." "What's the riddle?" demanded Dave, who saw that the story-teller had something up his sleeve. "Give me a sheet of paper and a pencil and I'll show you," returned Shadow. Paper and pencil were furnished by Roger, and the story-teller quickly wrote down the following: _"After a row the sailors had a row!"_ "Now read it out loud!" cried Shadow, as he passed the paper to the others. All gazed at it for several seconds. "I pass," remarked Dave, calmly.