"All right," he said. "Go ahead!" and walked after Merriwell.
Willis Paulding, the Anglomaniac, passed them, going in the direction of the large hotel across the way.
"Mud on the bloon—I mean blood on the moon!" exclaimed Rattleton, as Bart and Merry came up.
"What's up?" Frank asked.
"Paulding and the Chickering set are up—there!" said Danny, pointing to some upper windows of the hotel. "They are having a big feed to-night."
"Drinking tea and smoking cigarettes," explained Bruce.
"I've invited every fellow here to attend that banquet with me," Ready jovially declared. "But not a soul will accept the invitation. They fancy their heads aren't hard enough for that kind of drinking!"
"Bub-bub-better get an invitation yourself fuf-first!" Gamp stuttered.
"Oh, I circulate everywhere, like first-class currency. Want to go up and take a peep with me, Merriwell? I'd give a V any time to hear one of those fellows respond to a toast! Come along. What d'ye say? I'll be the pilot."
But Merriwell was no more in the mood for such an escapade than the other members of the "flock." Thereupon, Ready skipped across the street himself and disappeared within the hotel.