"Sit on the stove? I'll sit on Sam's head if I get the chance!" roared Fred, and made a rush for Sam. A scuffle ensued, which came to a sudden end as both sent a washstand over with a loud crash.
"Wow you've done it!" cried Frank. "That's noise enough to wake the dead."
"Great Caesar, stop that row!" burst out Torn, opening the door.
"Do you want to bring the captain down on us at the last minute?"
"Clear up that muss, both of you," said Dick to Sam and Fred. But the latter demurred. It was Sam's fault—he started the racket.
"I won't touch it." And Fred proceeded to go to bed.
"I reckon we had best dust," said one of the boys from another dormitory.
"So you had!" burst out Tom. "I hear somebody coming already," and in a twinkle the outsiders ran for their various quarters, leaving the occupants of Dormitory No. 6 to fix up matters as best they could.
It was no easy job to straighten out the washstand, clear up the general muss, and disrobe. But the boys were on their mettle, and in less than two minutes the light was out and all were under the covers, although, to be sure, Sam had his shoes still on and Tom was entirely clothed.
"Boys, what is the row up here?" The call came from Captain Putnam himself. He was ascending the front stairs, lamp in hand, and attired in a long dressing gown.
As no one answered, he paused in the upper hallway and asked the question again. Then he looked into one dormitory after another.