“You shut up, all of you!” roared Josiah Crabtree. “I don’t sell clocks! This is a trick! Oh, those cadets! I’d like to wring their necks! What a disgrace!” And he jumped on the suit-case again. “Will you stop? Oh, what a racket! I shall go mad!” And then picking up the offending baggage he fairly ran on the steamboat and disappeared into the cabin, the last of the clocks still rattling shrilly. The widow hurried in another direction, and the teacher did not dare to go near her during the trip. “Well, I reckon that send-off was worth the price,” said Pepper, after he and his chums had laughed themselves sore. “What a figure he did cut, trying to stop the clocks!” “And wasn’t the widow mad!” put in Jack. “She’ll never speak to him again!” “Crabtree will remember those clocks as long as he lives,” added Andy. “We’ll give him another when he comes back—just for a memento of the occasion,” said The Imp. And then in high spirits over the success of their trick, the cadets returned to Putnam Hall. For the time being, lessons were a thing of the past, and that evening the students had a good deal of fun, in one way or another. Some of the crowds went from one dormitory to another, and pillow fights were frequent. “The Ritter gang is coming down the hall,” announced Joe Nelson, about ten o’clock. “Look out for them, for they may have something worse than pillows and stuffed clubs.” It was well that Joe issued the warning, for less than five minutes later Ritter came on, followed by Coulter, Paxton, and four others. They had pillows and stuffed clubs, but the latter were stuffed with sawdust and were quite hard. “Repel boarders!” sang out Andy, and caught up a water pitcher full of water. “Back, if you don’t want a ducking!” “Down with ’em!” roared Reff Ritter, and struck at Pepper with his club. The Imp ducked and then caught the bully by the foot and yanked him down. In a moment more the fight raged furiously. Pillows, shoes, soap, books and other articles sailed through the air. Jack was struck in the ear by Coulter and he retaliated by filling the fellow’s mouth with soft soap that was handy in a dish. Andy wet Ritter and Paxton with the contents of the pitcher. “Let up! that ain’t fair!” roared Paxton. “You need a bath, to wash up your reputation, Paxton!” answered the acrobatic cadet. Ritter had arisen to his feet, and watching his chance he drew something from his pocket. He was about to hurl it at Jack’s head when Pepper caught his arm. “No, you don’t!” cried Pepper. “Give me that!” And he tried to get the article from the bully’s grasp. “Let me alone!” cried the bully, in alarm. “Give me that!” “I won’t!” “You shall!” And then Pepper and Ritter commenced to tussle. The Imp went down, but still kept his hand over that of his enemy. “Ough! my hand! Do you want to cut it?” suddenly howled the bully, and then opened his hand. A large lump of rough glass fell to the floor. “Hello, what’s this?” demanded Dale, coming up.