“Ordway,” Bert corrected. “I dare say we’ll get along. I have a nice disposition.” Nick giggled and Bert gazed across at him speculatively. “Of course everyone knows why Nick rooms alone,” he added. “He’s too mean to live with.” Nick raised his head to answer, but thought better of it. A vagrant breeze crept through the windows and the boys said, “A-ah!” in ecstatic chorus. “Listen,” said Nick, suddenly propping himself up on the cushions. “I’ve got a good scheme!” “Shoot!” replied Ted, yawning widely. “After supper we’ll beat it down to the pool and go in! Will you?” “Ugh! Mud and frogs!” said Bert. “Mud and frogs your eye! It’s dandy if you don’t go to wading around. We don’t have to stay in the pool, anyway. Rules don’t apply before term begins. We can go in the river. No one will see us.” “Safest thing,” said Ted, “is to find a canoe and upset, the way we did a couple of years ago. Pete used to go crazy and threaten to report us, but he couldn’t prove it wasn’t an accident.” “Aren’t any canoes out yet, I guess,” said Bert. “And the boat house is locked.” “Never mind your old canoes,” said Nick. “That’s an underhand scheme, anyway. Fair and open’s my motto! Oh, say, but that water’s going to feel good!” “That isn’t such an awfully rotten idea,” said Ted. “I’m blessed if I know where to look for my trunks, though.” “You don’t need ’em. It’ll be dark by half-past seven.” “Not with a moon shining, you silly chump,” said Bert. “You can take a pair of running trunks of mine, Ted. Only, worse luck, I’ll have to unpack that box over there.” He pulled himself from the chair with a sigh of resignation and kicked experimentally at the lid of the packing case. “Wonder where I can find a hatchet,” he muttered. “Got anything I can bust this lid off with, Nick?” “Got a screwdriver I use on my typewriter,” responded Nick helpfully. “What time is it?” inquired Ted again. “Find out, you lazy beast,” replied Bert. “Tell me how to get this thing open, you chaps.” “Pick it up and drop it on the floor a few times,” said Ted. “Bore a hole and put a dynamite cartridge in,” suggested Nick. “Oh, all right, then you go without the trunks,” said Bert, returning to his chair. “I’d like to know why I pounded a million dollars’ worth of nails into it, anyway.” There was no solution forthcoming, it seemed. Nick had returned to his study of the world outside and Ted had picked up the discarded magazine and was idly looking at the pictures. Bert sighed again and stretched his arms overhead. Then he said “_Ouch!_” suddenly and loudly and ruefully rubbed a shoulder. Ted looked over and grinned. “Sore?” he asked. “Sore as a boil! You wouldn’t think a fellow would get so soft in summer, swimming and playing tennis and everything. I wish Bonner would let us off tomorrow. I think he might. It wouldn’t hurt him to give us a day’s rest.”