"I'm for it," agreed Tom, and they set out.

"Hark!" exclaimed Bruce a little later, pausing in the middle of the
road, which was flooded with moonlight. "What's that noise?"

"Auto coming," replied Tom. "Let's pull over here where we won't get
so much dust."

As they shifted to the side of the highway they heard the sound of
singing from the rear, mingling with the exhaust from a car.

"Elmwood Hall fellows," spoke Tom briefly, as he recognized one of the
school songs. "I wonder who they are?"

"Don't know," answered Bruce. "Joy-riders, I guess. The fellows are
getting more and more sporty every year."

"Get out!" laughed Tom. "You were as bad as any of us!"

The car came nearer. Tom and Bruce were well over to one side of the
road, but in a spirit of mischief the lad at the wheel yelled:

"Get out the way! Give us room! We're the cheese!"

"They've got all the room they're entitled to," murmured Tom, for he
and Bruce were on the extreme left of the highway, and the auto should
have been on the right.

"Look out!" yelled a voice suddenly. "Pull that wheel over, Sam!"