"What's all this? You're up to something or other," laughed the other.
"I'm waiting, that's all," returned Frank, calmly.
"Waiting for what?"
"To hear the signal—there it is!" as three distinct knocks sounded on the outside of the house.
"Why, whatever does it mean, Frank," asked the visitor, as he arose to get his cap: for they were again in the little den Frank called his sanctum, where he kept all his beloved traps connected with the sports he delighted in, most of them decorating the walls.
"They're all on deck, thank goodness! And now it's safe for you to go home," was the rather startling remark of the other.
Ralph looked at the speaker a moment, and then, as a light dawned upon his comprehension, he burst out into a genuine, hearty, boyish laugh.
"Say, you don't mean to tell me you've gone and got a bodyguard to escort me to my own dear little home, do you, Frank? Well, of all the pranks, this certainly takes the cake! What do you think, that they're already getting down to their fine little work, and mean to kidnap me?" he exclaimed, greatly amused.
"No, but I know that crowd better than you do. When two sneaks like Tony Gilpin and Asa Barnes make up their minds to gather a bunch of skunks after their own stripe, and waylay a fellow they hate, they lose no time about it. There's only one more day between now and Saturday, when we play Clifford; and I saw them turning to notice whether we kept on together. They know you are here, sure."
"But I might slip out the back way, and give them the merry ha! ha!" suggested Ralph; "though I hate to crawl that way from such cowards, not one of them willing to face me outright."