Jack Ranger's Western Trip; Or, from Boarding School to Ranch and Range

Charles Franks
From Boarding School to Ranch and Range
Now then, are you all ready? inquired a voice in a hoarse whisper.
Galloping grasshoppers! We're as ready as we ever will be, Jack Ranger! replied one from a crowd of boys gathered on the campus of Washington Hall that evening in June.
Nat Anderson, if you speak again, above a whisper, said Jack Ranger, the leader, sternly, you will have to play 'Marching Through Georgia' as a solo on a fine tooth comb seven times without stopping!
Sneezing snakes! 'Nuff said! exclaimed Nat, this time in the required whisper. Playing combs always makes my lips tickle.
Now then, is every one ready? asked Jack again. If you are, come on, for it's getting late and we'll have to do this job quick and be back before Dr. Mead thinks it is time to send Martin the monitor after us. Forward march!
Then the crowd of boys, from the boarding school of Dr. Henry Mead, known as Washington Hall, but sometimes called Lakeside Academy, from the fact that it was on Rudmore Lake, in the town of Rudmore, started forth on mischief bent.
It was Jack Ranger's idea,—any one could have told that. For Jack was always up to some trick or other. Most of the tricks were harmless, and ended in good-natured fun, for Jack was one of the best-hearted lads in the world. This time he had promised his chums at the academy something new, though the term, which was within a month of closing, had been anything but lacking in excitement.
Fred Kaler, have you got your mouth organ with you? asked Jack, turning to a lad just behind him.
He always has his mouth-organ, or how could he speak? asked an athletic looking lad walking beside Jack.
That's a poor joke, Sam Palmer, commented Jack, and he ducked just in time to avoid a playful fist Sam shot out.