“Boxer Hall did fine,” went on Tom. “I give them credit for that. I wish we’d started at rowing years ago. It’s a shame it was so neglected at Randall.”
“It was dandy of those old grads to think to put us in the way of it once more,” went on Sid. “We’ll have to pass them a vote of thanks.”
Thus talking the boys went into the gymnasium, whence they emerged a little later, glowing, and feeling the spring and buoyancy of youth.
“Hello, what’s this?” asked Phil, as they entered their room, and saw some letters on the table.
“From the girls!” cried Tom, as he saw a certain hand-writing.
“Here, you’ve got mine!” declared Frank, making a grab for the epistle in Sid’s hand.
“Beg your pardon old man—so I have. I’ll trade,” and soon the four lads were busy perusing four notes.
“They’re going to have a dance,” spoke Tom. “A week from to-night. Will we go? I guess yes! That is, I don’t think we have any date for that evening.”
“If I have I’ll break it,” said Sid, quickly.