“He’s done it!” growled Browning, who was as mystified as anybody. “But I’d give a peanut to know what it is that he’s done.”
Bruce hesitated about taking the lead, for he was not sure the seniors would follow him, and the singing continued.
“Where the deuce is Frank?” asked Bart Hodge, getting hold of Bruce.
“I’ll never tell,” grunted the big fellow.
“He ought to be on hand.”
“Said he might not.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“Why not?”