“Great Cæsar, Fred! didn’t you get enough to eat at supper?” queried Jack.
“Oh, you know what I mean—a little something to eat just before we go to bed!” answered his cousin.
“Suits me!” was the cry from the others.
Talk about the victory over Hixley High and about the excitement attending the destruction of the shell-loading plant filled the air. The cadets were only boys, and the facts regarding the awful occurrence across the lake could not subdue their high spirits when they considered their great victory over the high school.
“We’ve just got to celebrate and let off steam somehow,” was the way Randy expressed himself.
Boxes and barrels had already been stored away in anticipation of a victory, and these were promptly brought forth and placed on the river front. They were piled as high as possible and then set on fire, the flames shooting skyward quickly and illuminating the scene for a long distance around.
“Hello there, Codfish!” cried Andy gaily, when he beheld the sneak of the school standing not far from one of the bonfires.
“Got any more boxes to put on the fire, Codfish?” questioned Randy, who was beside his twin.
“I haven’t got any boxes,” grumbled the young cadet. Since the departure of Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell from the Hall, Codfish had kept a good deal to himself. But he was as much of a sneak as ever, and did many mean things which were exceedingly irritating to the other cadets.
“You haven’t any boxes?” said Randy, in apparent surprise. “What’s the use of talking like that? You know better;” and then he winked at his brother.