The boys dropped off the car, and in a few minutes saw the school buildings looming up before them.
“Scubbity-yow!” cried Fred, dropping his suitcase and executing a jig. “The old place certainly looks good to me.”
“Seemed a long way off a few hours ago when we didn’t have a cent to our names,” remarked Mouser.
“Looked as if we’d have to walk the ties to get here,” laughed Pee Wee.
“And think how many stone bruises you’d have got,” suggested Bobby.
“‘Barked shins,’ you mean,” corrected Mouser. “They’re the latest thing in Pee Wee’s collection.”
The fat boy grinned. He was too happy or perhaps too lazy to enter any protest just then.
The school was beautifully located on a high bluff overlooking Monatook Lake, a sheet of water, nearly oval in shape. It was about ten miles long and five miles wide at its broadest part. There were several small islands scattered over the lake, and, as may be imagined, these were favorite resorts of the boys when they were permitted to visit them.
A strong fence guarded the edge of the bluff for the entire length of the school grounds. A winding staircase led from the top of the bluff to the boathouse and the lake level.
Just now Monatook was clothed in an icy mantle that shone like silver under the light of the moon which had just risen. It was a scene of wintry splendor that gladdened the heart to look upon.