and went right in with the jolly crowd that composed the stanch following
of Dean Ritchie.

It was just after the nine o'clock bell had rung that evening when Bob so
mysteriously disclosed his suspicions of the initiation plots of the
occupants of the adjoining room.

"They're all Banbury's crowd," he explained to Frank. "Get into bed and
take in the fun. They're waiting for us to quiet down. Don't speak above a
whisper. Just stay awake long enough to see the program out."

Bob turned out the light and both snuggled down on the pillows luxuriously
after a strenuous day of sport and study.

"Act first," whispered Bob. "Soon as the Banbury crowd think we're fast
asleep, you'll hear them come stealthily out into the corridor. They've
fixed the transom over our door so it will swing open without a jar. One
fellow will stand on a chair. The others will hand him up the nozzle of a
hose running to the faucet in their room."

"And we'll be Knights of the Bath--I see," observed Frank.

"Yes, without having to take any of the medicine. Hist--they're coming."

Frank could readily guess what the enemy had in view--the old school trick
of dousing them in their sleep. He relied on the mysterious promises of his
chum, and lay still and listened intently.

There was a vast whispering in the next room, a rustling about, and then
more than one person could be heard just outside in the corridor.