“Where away?” inquired Rhodes, looking at the two in the stern.
“I don’t care,” returned Don, lazily. “You might as well row around the lake and back. We haven’t seen all of it yet.”
“Do you expect to sit back and see me do all the work?” demanded Jim.
“Hadn’t thought much about it!” grinned Don. “Aren’t you?”
“Like heck I am,” retorted Jim.
They rowed down the lake to the point where it narrowed into a mere creek and then started up the opposite side, across from the school. Lake Blair was a body of blue water about three miles long and a half mile wide, deep only in the center, and it made a fitting setting for the old school. Thick trees ran down to the shore, and now that autumn was at hand the leaves on the trees had turned a multitude of brilliant colors.
“This is certainly one swell place,” commented Terry enthusiastically.
“Yes,” nodded Rhodes. “I love it. I don’t think there is any place I’d rather be.”
“Then you’ll be sorry to graduate,” observed Don.
Rhodes smiled. “No, I won’t. I’ll let you fellows in on a little secret of mine. After I have graduated Colonel Morrell, provided everything is all right, is going to make me permanent drill commander. So I will stay here for some years to come.”