“To-morrow, or next day,” answered Bill, who had now entered heart and soul into the piece of mischief. “I’ll get enough to give Pop Weston a liberal coating.” “Night after to-morrow,” mused Chapin, looking at a calendar over Cap’s table. “That will do. There’s no moon. What about brushes?” “I guess a whitewash one will do. Maybe the professor has one—or a big sponge, such as he uses for cleaning his wagon.” “Fine!” cried Chapin. “Oh, I can just see the faculty when they file past the bronze statue, done to a beautiful baby pink! Great! No more will the lordly Seniors boast of having once run a dump cart into the class room. The Sophs with their little trick of putting tar on the bell tower will take a back seat, and the Juniors, whose stronghold, so far, has been the horrible task of burning red fire under Prexy’s windows, will be green with envy. Oh, what a lucky day this has been!” “It isn’t over yet,” remarked Cap significantly. “Well, I’ll see Clatter and get the stuff,” promised Bill. “Then we’ll meet and do the decorating. How many are in on it?” asked the pitcher, pausing in his planning. “We don’t want too many,” spoke Chapin cautiously. “Us four perhaps, Bondy and Whistle-Breeches if you like, as they’re on this corridor.” “Not Bondy,” said Pete quickly. “We’ll let Whistle-Breeches in, but Guilder isn’t in our set. He wouldn’t come if we asked him, and we’re not going to. Besides, he might squeal.” “Well, five are enough,” said Chapin. “Now I’ll depend on you to get the paint, Bill.” “And I’ll get it.” “Fare thee well, then,” and with another cautious listening at the door, Chapin took himself out. “Well?” asked Cap, of his brothers a little later, when they had sat in silence pondering over the plan. “It’s all to the red-pepper,” declared Bill. “We need something to wake us up.” “I guess this will prevent dreams for some time,” observed the eldest Smith. “It’ll be a scream of a nightmare when the faculty sees it,” came from Pete, “but there’s no harm in it as long as the paint washes off.” With many nods and winks Chapin recalled to the three brothers, and to Whistle-Breeches, next morning the plot they had made. Whistle-Breeches had been let into it early in the day, and had eagerly agreed to do his share. They would need ropes with which to mount to the top of the big statue, and Anderson had agreed to procure them. “I can climb, too,” he said, “and I’ll decorate the top part.” “Good for you, Whistle-Breeches!” exclaimed Pete. It was that same afternoon that Bill saw Bob Chapin in close conversation with Mersfeld and Jonas North. It was the first time he had noticed that Chapin was chummy with the Varsity regular pitcher, and with the lad who, because of his bullying tactics was generally shunned, except by his own crowd. “I hope Bob doesn’t talk too much about the statue business,” reflected Bill. “Too many cooks make the hash taste burned. It might leak out.”