“At last all was in readiness,” as they say in novels. The guests had assembled and were gathered about the banquet table. No one had been caught, as yet, for Bill had laid his plans well, and all of the faculty, some of whom might otherwise have been prowling about the school, were listening to a very deep lecture on how to impart knowledge to boys, by a man who had never had any. As for Proctor McNibb, he had so many extra duties on his hands that he did not go near the Freshmen’s dormitory until quite late. This gave our heroes and their friends the lack of attention which they much desired. There was a goodly crowd present, when Whistle-Breeches, who had been named as toastmaster, arose, and with a bottle of ginger ale in one hand, and a cheese sandwich in the other, proposed: “Those Smith boys! May we always have ’em with us!” “Hear! Hear!” cried Wendell Borden, in a dull, monotonous voice. Wendell had read that this was what Englishmen said at banquets, and his father had come from England. “Less noise!” ordered Bill. “Do you want to have the place pulled, and all of us pinched? Go on and eat!” They fell-to, and there was merry feasting, even if the jests did have to be passed around in whispers, losing thereby much of their wit. “Now, fellows,” began Bob Chapin, as he rose and held out a bottle of lemon soda, “let me propose—” There was a knock on the door—a knock as of one having authority. A sudden hush fell upon the assemblage. “Answer, Bill, Cap—some of you,” whispered Whistle-Breeches nervously. “What’ll I say?” demanded Bill. The knock was repeated. “Ask whose there,” suggested Bob. “Who—who’s—there?” stammered Bill, as though it cost him an effort. “It is I—Mr. McNibb. Are there any persons in your room besides yourselves?” “Ye—yes,” stammered Bill. Lying was not permitted by the school honor code. “Open the door!” came the command. Bill looked appealingly around. Some of the boys made motions as though to dive under the beds. “Face the music!” ordered Cap sharply, for he detested sneaking tactics. “Open the door,” came the command again, in stern tones. There was no choice but to obey, and Bill arose to draw the bolts. He slowly opened the portal, and, as it swung back the banqueters peered forward to behold the smiling countenances of Ward and Merton, two of the biggest seniors in the school. CHAPTER XXII HITTING A BULLY Blank looks of surprise, astonishment, relief and anger at the manner in which they had been deceived, struggled for mastery over the faces of the Freshmen. The two seniors walked in, looked coolly about, as though the whole affair had been arranged for their especial entertainment and inspection, and then calmly took two vacant seats near the head of the improvised banquet table, which is to say the bed. “Ah, very cozy and comfortable here; eh Ward?” observed Merton.