At three o’clock in the afternoon of that fifth day of January the stretch of low ground near the river and south of the running track became the scene of remarkable activity. Fully half the school turned out, although not all, I regret to say, with the intention of being helpful. Perhaps fifty per cent. of the gathering was there to watch the other fifty per cent. work and to get as much amusement as possible out of the spectacle. Mr. Bendix, the Physical Director, better known as “Muscles,” was in charge of proceedings, assisted by Andy Ryan, the trainer. Corner pegs had already been set when the boys arrived and the task of digging holes for the uprights to hold the boards in place was under way. Captain Crowell, acting as lieutenant, doled out shovels and picks and soon the necessary excavations were completed. Fortunately, only the crust of the earth was frozen and once under that digging was easy. The joists were next lugged from their place of storage under the grand-stand and dropped into the holes and with one boy holding and two or three others shoveling, and Andy Ryan running around with a carpenter’s level to see that the joists were set straight, that part of the work went swiftly and would have gone more swiftly if the onlookers, being in a particularly happy frame of mind, had not stood around and cheered every move enthusiastically. Then a stream of fellows made for the back of the grand-stand again and returned bearing the planks, which, being in sections ready to attach to the uprights, required less labor than the pessimistic Creel had led Toby to anticipate. Each section was numbered and fell readily into place, after which a few long spikes completed the operation. Toby, armed with a hammer and a bag of spikes, was one of the carpenters. Every time he missed the head of the spike a shout of derision arose from the attentive audience, and, in consequence, Toby was very likely to promptly miss again! But there were plenty of others to aid and before long the three-foot-high barrier was in place, enclosing a parallelogram of faded and trampled turf one hundred and thirty-two feet long by sixty feet wide. Before the last spike had been driven home the boys were busy with picks and shovels and a foot-high bank of earth was being thrown up against the bottom of boards on the outside. By the time the last shovelful had been tossed in place twilight was on them and the spectators had departed. The thermometer showed the mercury at twenty-eight degrees, but falling, and it was decided to put in enough water to only saturate the ground. Two lines of hose were coupled to the nearer hydrants and the enclosure was thoroughly wet down. That ended the labor for the time and some forty-odd boys, abandoning shovels and picks, viewed the result of their labor with proud satisfaction and tramped somewhat wearily back to the dormitories. To Toby, at least, who had worked hard and unceasingly