“I haven’t decided as yet,” the headmaster admitted. “But I shall want you and Hudson and Jim to be in the room and watching Gates. I am going to ask most of the seniors to act as waiters, and I’ll see to it that you and Jim are on the table with Gates.”
On Monday of the following week a corps of carpenters and painters swooped down on old Clanhammer Hall and went to work. In between periods and after school the cadets watched them with interest. Old and rotting boards were ripped off and new ones put in their places, old paint was scraped and in a short time the old building stood out in glowing splendor. Leaves were raked up and broken windows replaced. The hall was completely transformed.
On the inside the work was even more thorough. Old benches were torn out, one or two old partitions followed, and the entire left side of the original school was turned into a huge dining hall. In the days of its infancy Clanhammer had had a small dining room, because enrollment had been small there. Now two classrooms joined with that original room made up the new and spacious alumni dining room.
Upstairs was left pretty much as it had been and then the new furniture was moved in. Long tables and plenty of chairs composed the new equipment, and in a few days the new sign, Alumni Hall, was painted over the front door.
A number of seniors had been chosen as waiters and Don and Jim had been told to join them. On the night of the dinner they assembled early in the kitchen of the hall and began preparations. The kitchen had been refitted and at present was full of steam and the odors of half a dozen foods. The cooks had their hands full watching the restless cadets, who sampled the food at every opportunity.
“I’m warning you,” shouted Pat Donohue, the chief cook, as he wiped the perspiration from his red face. “The next fellow I see dipping bread in the gravy will catch a frying pan back of his ears! Don’t you boys never get fed during meal times?”
“No, Pat,” said one of the seniors, gravely. “Your food is so good that we never get enough of it! Don’t blame us for snitching a little now and then, for it is out of this world!”
“Humph,” snorted the cook, suspiciously. “That sounds fine, but I got a sneaking suspicion you just said it to make me feel good. Get your fingers out of that salad!”
“Isn’t there anything we can have without being jumped on for it?” demanded Hudson.
There were a half dozen rolls which had fallen into some heavy grease earlier in the evening. They were now on a plate nearby and the grease did not show. Pat pointed to them.