"That's the end of the Dartaway," came from Sam, mournfully. "Well, we had some pretty good times in her while she lasted."
CHAPTER VIII
A BOX OF CANDY
"Say, I've got to have some fun or bust!"
It was Tom who uttered the words. For over a week everything had run along smoothly at Brill College. The boys had settled down to their studies. They had sent letters home, and to the girls, and had received several communications in return. They had been congratulated on their escape from the wrecking of the biplane, and Dora had written to Dick urging him to give up flying.
"I'm going to give it up for a while, at least," Dick had answered. During those days the search had been kept up for Josiah Crabtree, but so far nothing had been heard of the fugitive from justice. That the man had left the neighborhood was quite probable.
"What sort of fun do you want, Tom?" asked Sam, throwing down the book he had been studying.
"Oh, anything," was the answer. "I feel as if I was getting musty and rusty, and I've simply got to do something. Wish there was a hazing on, or something like that," and the fun-loving Rover gazed moodily out of the window.
"Now don't you get yourself into trouble, Tom," warned Dick. "Better get at that theme you've got to write on 'Educational Institutions of the Revolutionary Period'."
"Hang the themes, Dick! I've got to have some fun—and I'm going out for it!" answered Tom, and catching up his cap he passed out of the dormitory.