friends are sure, old ties endure.'"

It was nearly ten o'clock, when the singing school was supposed to
close. Frank found himself wishing that it were over with.
Somehow, he felt very tired, though suspecting that his weariness
might be more of the mind than the body. Still, with that great
game to be won on the morrow, he believed that he ought to get
between the sheets as soon as possible now.

It was just at this time he saw Lanky Wallace heading toward him.
Lanky was not in the least a diplomat. Whenever he had anything
worrying him, the fact seemed to stick out all over his face,
bringing wrinkles to his usually placid brow.

It was so now. Immediately Frank began to scent trouble, though,
for the life of him, he could not understand just how it could
come while the boys were still at the singing school. Surely, none
of those schemers would dare sneak into the hall and kidnap either
of the two new recruits.

He hastily glanced around and heaved a sigh of relief when his
eyes fell on the figure of Ralph close by, as he chatted with
Helen and Flo. At least it could not be him.

"What's ailing you, Lanky?" he demanded, as the other rushed up to
him.

"It's Bones--they can't find him anywhere, and I guess he's been
carried off by some of those disgruntled chaps!" exclaimed the
other, with a look of dismay.