“What do you want?” demanded Bock, who was evidently the leader, though Plunkett was older.
“We want you to have a good time,” said Bob, in a pleasant voice. “We came to treat you—in return for giving the Putnam Hall boys so much trouble.”
“Who are you?” demanded Plunkett. It was too dark under the trees to distinguish faces, especially when distorted from the glowing of the phosphorus.
“Friends,” said another cadet, for the quartermaster’s plan had been explained to all.
“What do you want of us?”
“We want you to come along. We have a plan to play another trick on the Putnam Hall fellows.”
“But who are you?” demanded Sedley, who had recovered from his fright.
“That’s telling, Bat. But you’ll soon know—when we get at the feast Oliver has prepared for us.”
Now Oliver was a caterer who had often supplied the Pornell Academy students with good things to eat. The mention of his name took the Bock crowd off their guard.
“Have you got a spread for us?” demanded Bock, who was tremendously hungry.