“We must see the landlord of the hotel first,” said Merriwell, “for we have already registered here, and he may interpose objections to our summary leave-taking. But you may count on it that we will be with you without much delay.” Two hours later, Merriwell and the entire Yale Combine were snugly installed in the cottages of the Lake Lily Athletic Club. “I’m afraid I’m going to have another one of those infernal chills,” grumbled Browning, as, with a blanket drawn over him, he reclined in a hammock and looked across the water toward the village. “I guess I shall never get that Arkansas malaria out of my system, though I’ve taken enough quinine to start a drug store.” Rattleton cast a look of mock anxiety at the rather flimsy walls. “I say, Browning, when you get to shaking right good, as you did that other time, you’ll have your cot put out under the trees, won’t you? Just for the safety of the rest of us, you know.” “No, I won’t!” Browning growled. “If I bring the house down on myself, like old Samson, it will delight me to bury all the rest of you in the ruins.” “Say, fellows,” cried the irrepressible Rattleton, “why is Browning like a member of a certain well-known religious organization?” “Oh, go chase yourself out of here!” begged Bruce. “I’m already sick, and your weak jokes make me sicker.” “It’s because he’s a Shaker.” Browning groaned and turned his face toward the wall. “Won’t some one kindly kill that idiot for me?” he pleaded. Frank Merriwell came into the room, holding a handsome lancewood bow and a sheaf of arrows. “If we are going to meet Ward Hammond and his Blue Mountain boys day after to-morrow,” he said, surveying the lounging group, “it strikes me that it would be well for the new members of Lake Lily Athletic Club to get in a little archery practice.” To this there was a general assent, and the entire party prepared to leave the room, with the exception of Bruce Browning, who shivered and drew the blanket closer about him as they got up to go. Out by the lake there was a level stretch of greensward. Here a target had been set up, and the members of the club had practiced at archery. Both the new and the old members of the Lake Lily Athletic Club practiced with the bow so faithfully in the limited time given them that when they climbed to the archery ground on the wooded crest of Blue Mountain they felt that they would be able to give Ward Hammond and his friends a hard contest, if nothing more, though Hammond had been heard publicly to declare that the Lilywhites’ new members would add nothing to the strength of the club.