a huge dinner bell. The boys dropped their games, and made what
haste they could to the dining room.

"Now for a feast!" said Wilkins to Hector, significantly.

"Does Mr. Smith furnish good board?" asked Hector, for he felt the
hunger of a healthy boy who had taken an early breakfast.

"Good grub?" said Wilkins, making a face. "Wait till you see. Old
Sock isn't going to ruin himself providing his pupils with the
delicacies of the season."

"I'm sorry for that. I am confoundedly hungry."

"Hungry!" exclaimed Wilkins. "I've been I hungry ever since I came
here."

"Is it as bad as that?" asked Hector, rather alarmed.

"I should say so. I haven't had a square meal--what I call a square
meal--for four weeks, and that's just the time since I left home."

They had reached the door of the dining-room by this time.

In the center stood a long table, but there didn't seem to be much
on it except empty plates. At a side table stood Mrs. Smith, ladling
out soup from a large tureen.

"That's the first course," whispered Wilkins. "I hope you'll like
it."