They floundered out of the water, were joined by Tom, and went crashing through the woods, bumping into trees, lashing their faces with branches, and making enough noise to be heard by those on the launch had it not been for the beat of the propeller. Fortunately the road was but a short distance, and once on that they made fine time. “Talk about your hare-and-hounds!” gasped Nelson. “Gee!” When they reached the clearing they stopped running and went forward cautiously. All was silent and deserted. In a moment they had gained Maple Hall. But Dan stopped them before they had laid foot on the porch. “We must wipe our feet,” he said, “or Clint will see the tracks. Here.” Some one had left a towel over the railing, and with this they hurriedly wiped their feet clean of dirt and leaves. Their bodies had dried long since and were glowing from their exertions. Just as the towel was thrown aside and they had mounted the porch a light gleamed between the trees of the path from the landing and voices reached them. “Quick!” whispered Nelson. “What did you do with the towel? We mustn’t leave it here.” He picked it up and followed the others into the gloom of the dormitory, treading softly over the creaking boards. If Dr. Smith was awake it was all up with them. But the bed by the door gave no sound. The hall was silent save for the deep breathing and occasional snores of its occupants. Nelson found his bunk, tossed the soiled towel beneath it, dived into his pajamas, and slipped into bed just as the door at the end of the dormitory became suddenly illumined and footsteps sounded on the porch outside. He was panting hard, but he drew the clothes up to his chin, threw one arm over his head, and strove to look as though he had been asleep for hours. Then he waited, hoping that Tom and Dan had gained their bunks and that Mr. Clinton would not look too closely at his hair, which was still wet. Then the light glowed against his closed lids and he heard the Chief and Mr. Thorpe walking slowly down the aisle. And at the same moment he became aware of a sound he had not heard before, a loud, unmusical wheeze and gurgle that came from his side of the hall further down. The next instant he realized what it was and would have given much to have been able to give vent to the laughter that threatened to choke him. Tom was snoring! To have heard that snore would have satisfied any one that Thomas Courtenay Ferris had been sleeping the sleep of the just for many hours. And Mr. Clinton was no exception. When he raised the lantern over Tom’s wide-open mouth and listened to the evidence that poured forth he smiled and walked on. Up the aisle he went, stopping at each bunk. And then: “Everything seems all right here, Thorpe,” Nelson heard him mutter. “Yes, I guess you were right, sir,” answered Mr. Thorpe with a yawn. “I guess I was, only--what any one should want with a flagpole is more than I can see!”