“We can row as well as not,” answered Andy. “The exercise will do us good.”
“I only hope it stays clear until we get back,” said Pepper, with an anxious look at the sky, where the clouds were beginning to hide the stars from view.
“Say, fellows, are you sure Mumps or some other sneak isn’t on to our game?” asked Stuffer.
“That’s a risk we had to run,” answered Bart Conners. “I don’t believe Mumps knows of this, though.”
Nearly all of the boys were good oarsmen, and by their united efforts the three boats moved swiftly over the bosom of Cayuga Lake. Not another craft seemed to be stirring, and the night was as quiet as a graveyard.
“We are coming in sight of the Pornell dock,” said Jack, at last. “Now, Fred, you’ll have to lead the way, for you are the only one who knows all about this place.”
“I’ll do it,” answered the youth who had once been a Pornell Academy student.
The midnight prowlers left their rowboats tied up at the dock and followed Fred Century to the campus of the school and then to a doorway leading to the basement.
“This door is locked, but the servants usually leave the key on the window,” whispered Fred. “Here it is.” He took the key and unlocked the door. “Shall I go in alone and open the window to the trophy room, or do you want to come in this way?”
“You had better go in alone,” answered Jack. “We might stumble over something in the dark and make a noise. Where is the room?”