“It’s a lot more fun,” said Nick drowsily, settling back against Bert’s knees. “Say, fellows, isn’t it nice that school begins day after tomorrow? Aren’t you all tickled to death?” “Let’s not talk about it,” yawned Pop. “No, come on and get that swim,” agreed Ted, getting to his feet and ungently tousling Bert’s hair. “If we wait for the moon we never will get in. And I’m hot and uncomfortable and――――” “Something’s happened to the moon,” murmured Nick. “Probably got a hot-box.” “What about towels?” Bert got up, letting Nick subside violently against the steps. “We can dry off on the float,” said Ted. “Come on. All in!” Nick, rubbing the back of his head, arose with groans and protests and draped himself against Pop Driver. “Nick wants to be carried,” he whimpered. “Pop, please carry Nick. He’s so ’ittle!” Pop complacently gathered the other in his big arms and bore him away around the corner of the house, Nick babbling nonsense. “Pop likes to carry his ’ittle Nick, doesn’t he? Pop loves his ’ittle Nick.” “Pop loves him to death,” grunted Pop, depositing him suddenly in a barberry hedge. There arose a piercing wail from Nick as he came into contact with the thorns, the sound of cracking shrubbery and the thud of Pop’s feet as he hurried off into the darkness. “Oh, you big brute!” shouted Nick. “You wait till I get hold of you! I’m full of stickers! Which way did that big, ugly hippopotamus go, Ted?” “Straight on into the engulfing gloom,” answered Bert. “Look out for that clothes-line, Nick.” “Pop!” called Nick sweetly. “Pop, come back to me, darling! Honest, Pop, I haven’t a thing in my hands! I just want to love you!” “I’m busy,” responded Pop from the darkness ahead. “I got some of those old thorns myself.” “Oh, Pop, I’m _so_ sorry! Do they hurt, Pop? Come back here and let me drive them in for you!” Peace was restored by the time they were passing the tennis courts. Eastward, above the trees beyond the little river, a silvery radiance heralded the moon. They skirted the running track and made their way to where, dimly, the dark form of the boathouse loomed ahead of them. When they reached it Pop experimentally tried all the doors, but found them fast. They disrobed in the shadow of the building and then, making certain that there were no passers on the road, a few rods distant, they raced down the float and plunged into the water with whoops of glee. When their heads emerged the moon had topped the trees and, save where the shadow of the covered bridge lay across it, the stream was bathed in silver. The water was warm, but far cooler than the air, and Pop grunted ecstatically as he rolled over on his back and floated lazily, blinking at the moon. It was then that Nick obtained his revenge. Sinking very quietly, he swam across under water, emerged behind the unsuspecting Pop, and――