Quiet finally reigned in the regions of Washington Hall, for the students had to retire to their rooms to study. There were mysterious whisperings here and there, however, and occasionally shadowy forms moved about the corridors, for, in spite of rules against it, the lads would visit each other in their rooms after hours. Several called on Jack to see how he felt after his experience. They found him and Nat Anderson busy looking over some gun catalogues.
“Going in for hunting?” asked Sam.
“Maybe,” replied Jack. “Say, there are some dandy rifles in this book, and they’re cheap, too. I’d like to get one.”
“So would I,” added Sam.
“And go hunting,” put in Bony, cracking his finger knuckles, as if firing off an air-rifle.
“It would be sport to organize a gun club, and do some hunting,” went on Jack. “Only I’d like to shoot bigger game than there is around here. Maybe we can——”
“Hark, some one’s coming! It’s Martin,” said Fred Kaler in a whisper.
Jack’s hand shot out and quickly turned down the light. Then he bounded into bed, dressed as he was. Nat followed his example. It was well that they did so, for a moment later there came a knock on their door, and the voice of Martin, the monitor, asked:
“Ranger, are you in bed?”
“Yes,” replied our hero.