“You du-du-did it!” he shrieked wrathfully, and seizing one of the fish by the tail he whirled it once around his head and let it fly at Dan. Now, as anybody who had ever attempted to throw a fresh fish by his tail must know, accuracy is impossible. That’s why the chub, instead of hitting Dan, smacked itself straight into Dr. Smith’s face. But Tom was not to be easily discouraged. Without stopping for apologies he seized upon the remaining fish and chased Dan down the aisle and out into the darkness under a veritable fusillade of chub. Tom’s aim was hasty and the chub were slippery, and so Dan escaped all save one of the missiles. That one took him squarely in the back and imprinted itself upon his nice clean light blue pajamas. Then Tom went back to make his peace with Dr. Smith. That night was long remembered. Tom’s misadventure was the forerunner of others. Several beds were upset with their contents and “sneakers” were so thick in the air that Dan, cautiously returning from outer darkness into inner gloom, was struck twice between the door and his bunk. It was almost midnight when the councilors at last secured quiet. And then, just when most fellows were getting drowsy, there was a strange, uncanny noise like that of a man talking through a hundred feet of gas-pipe, a whirring and buzzing, and finally a loud discordant laugh and a jumble of shrill words that sounded as though they were coming from the stove. Somebody in some manner had got hold of Wells’s phonograph and started it going. Up and down the hall fellows sat up in bed and laughed and shouted their applause. Bedlam was loose again! “Give us ‘Bluebell’!” some one demanded. “I want ‘Hiawatha’!” called another. “Cornet solo, please!” Then Dr. Smith’s voice was heard above the babel. “Cut it out now, fellows! Wells, stop that noise!” “I didn’t do it, sir.” “I don’t care who did it; I want it stopped.” “Why, Wells, you know you did it!” said some one up the hall. “Sounded just like your voice, Wells!” called another. “Cut it out, fellows,” said Dr. Smith sternly. “Yes, sir.” “All right, Doctor!” “Good night, sir!” “Thank you for stopping the noise, Doctor; I’m very sleepy!” “Yes, sir; thank you, sir!” Then followed giggles--silence--slumber. Three of the Four were very busy for the balance of the week. Every afternoon there was hard practise on the diamond for the baseball team in preparation for the second game with Wickasaw on Saturday afternoon. If Wickasaw should win this game she would have the series; if not, a third game would be played. Dan had made up his mind to conquer, and the way he worked the team was a caution. On Thursday there was a spirited contest between the camp nine and the scrub in which Mr. Clinton distinguished himself by knocking three home runs out of five times at bat. But for all that the first team won handily, displaying far better form than at any time during the season.