“That’s the scheme, sir,” exclaimed Nick Blake. “It’s going to be hotter than ever tomorrow.” Nick expertly thrust some bread crumbs down Pop Driver’s neck. “We’d all be better for a rest, sir. Just look at Pop here! Overcome by the heat, Mr. Bonner!” Pop, squirming and muttering, really looked as if something was vastly wrong with him, but the coach didn’t seem inclined to accept Nick’s theory. He studied Pop’s spasms a moment in thoughtful silence and then pushed back his chair. “We’ll cut it out for tomorrow, then,” he announced as he stood up. “And, by the way, Mrs. Fair will give us our breakfasts in the morning, but we’ll have to shift for ourselves at noon.” “They’re going to serve cold lunch in Manning at noon, sir,” said one of the boys. “I guess we can get in on that.” “All right. Next practise, then, will be Thursday at three-thirty. Traf, you look me up tomorrow evening, will you? There are one or two things――and bring Quinn along with you, please. Don’t stay around here, fellows. Give Mrs. Fair a chance to get these tables cleaned off. Good night.” CHAPTER III A MOONLIGHT PLUNGE Coach Bonner passed out briskly and the fellows, with much scraping of chairs and good-natured horseplay, followed. Twilight was settling over the world. The sun had just dropped behind the distant spires and tree-tops of the village and on Mt. Grafton, the sugar-loaf hill behind the school, its last rays rested on the spindley observatory crowning the rocky summit. The campus was fast filling with shadows, and along the streets and walks the lamps made lemon-yellow points in the purple dusk. In Manning and Trow and Lothrop lights glowed wanly at the entrances, but School Hall and the gymnasium were dark. Doubtless there were lights, too, in the Principal’s residence, far to the right, but the clustering maples hid all of that but the roof. A faint breeze fluttered from the southwest, but the evening was still oppressively hot. By twos and threes and in larger groups the fellows wandered away, some turning their steps toward the village, a half-mile distant, others seeking the dormitories. Bert, Nick and Ted, however, still loitered on the steps of Morris, waiting for the moon to rise, and with them loitered Pop Driver. “It’s frightfully hot over in my room,” observed the latter, sprawling his big form over the steps. “I’m on the wrong side of the building tonight.” Bert prodded Nick with his foot. “Guess I’ll bunk in with you, old man,” he said. “You’ll bunk on the window-seat, then. Why don’t you sleep in one of the rooms across the hall? No one would care.” “Perhaps I will. Where’s that moon? Coming along with us, Pop?” “I guess so. I’d like to stay in the water all night.” “There’s the moon now, isn’t it?” asked Ted lazily. “Someone lighted up in Fuller,” replied Bert. “Let’s go along down. We don’t have to have the moon, anyhow.”