The boys were only too glad to do as they were told and made for the clothes closet with alacrity. They were not the adventurous kind that enjoy roughing it. A chance to escape a mauling was accepted instantaneously.
"Hurry up, Jimmy, it's nearly eight o'clock. The pirates will be here in a minute if they live up to schedule." He had hardly finished speaking when the Chapel clock boomed out the hour of eight.
Both boys dived for the inner room, stripped off their coats, pulled down the blinds and, jumping into the little cot beds, pulled the coverlets up to their chins. They lay there and shook with laughter.
"What if the gang should send up a dozen kidnappers and carry us both out and duck us?" said Frank, in a whisper.
"'Tisn't likely they'll send more than two or three," was Jimmy's answer. "They would be afraid of attracting attention. They'll figure that two's enough for these little candy kids. I don't think——"
What Jimmy didn't think will never be known to history, for he was interrupted by a ringing knock on the study door.
"There they are; cover up," whispered Frank. "Keep the coverlet up to your chin or they'll recognize you."
"Not a chance of it in here, unless they have a light, and they wouldn't chance that unless they are masked."
The knock was repeated, and there still being no answer some one kicked the door. "Open up, Freshmen," said a gruff voice.
"That's Bronson, sure," said Jimmy.