"So did I," answered his brother. He turned to the hotel youth. "What was this Flapp doing here?" "Nothing much. He asked the boss when you were expected here." "Is he here now?" "No, he left last night." "Where did he go to?" "I don't know, but I thought I would tell you about the fellow. I think he is going to try to do you cadets some harm." "Did he mention any names?" "He seemed to be extra bitter against three brothers named Rover." "Humph!" "Are the Rovers here?" went on the youth. "I think they are, sonny. I'm one, this is another, and there is the third," and Tom pointed to Dick, who was at a distance, conversing with some other cadets. "Oh, so you are the Rovers! How strange that I should speak to you of this!" "Which way did this Lew Flapp go?" questioned Sam. "Off the way you are bound." "I'll wager he tries to make trouble for us on our way to Putnam Hall, Tom." "It's not unlikely, Sam." "Shall we tell Captain Putnam of this?" Tom shook his head. "No, let us tell Dick, though, and a few of the others. Then we can keep our eyes peeled for Lew Flapp and, if he actually does wrong, expose him." A little later Tom and Sam interviewed Dick on the subject, and then they told Larry Colby, Fred Garrison, George Granbury, and half a dozen others. "I don't believe he will do much," said Larry Colby. "He is only talking, that's all. He knows well enough that Captain Putnam can have him locked up, if he wants to." By eight o'clock that evening the field in which they were to encamp for the night was reached. Tents were speedily put up, and half a dozen camp-fires started, making the boys feel quite at home. The cadets gathered around the fires and sang song after song, and not a few practical jokes were played. "Hans, they tell me you feel cold and want your blood shook up," said Tom to Hans Mueller, the German cadet. "Coldt, is it?" queried Hans. "Vot you dinks, I vos coldt mid der borometer apout two hundred by der shade, ain't it? I vos so hot like I lif in Africa alretty!" "Oh, Hans must be cold!" cried Sam. "Let us shake him up, boys!" "All right!" came from half a dozen. "Get a blanket, somebody!" "No, you ton't, not by my life alretty!" sang out Hans, who had been tossed up before. "I stay py der groundt mine feets on!" And he started to run away. Several went after him, and he was caught in the middle of an adjoining cornfield, where a rough-and-tumble scuffle ensued, with poor Hans at the bottom of the heap. "Hi, git off, kvick!" he gasped. "Dis ton't been no footsball game nohow! Git off, somebody, und dake dot knee mine mouth out of!" "Are you warm, now, Hansy!" asked Tom. "Chust you wait, Tom Rofer," answered the German cadet, and shook his fist at his tormentor. "I git square somedimes, or mine name ain't--" "Sauerkraut!" finished another cadet, and a roar went up. "Hans, is it true that you eat sauerkraut three times a day when you are at home?"