“Why, you know, S. P. M.”
“Oh!” said Gerald. “I guess we’re going to start late, aren’t we?”
“I suppose so. Loring didn’t say when, but I guess it will have to be late if we aren’t going to get nabbed.” He chuckled. “Prout’s going to leave his window unlocked so I can get in that way in case the door’s locked when we get back.” Suddenly an expression of blank dismay came into his face. “Jehoshaphat!” he murmured. “Loring said I wasn’t to mention it to you! I was thinking you knew!”
“Well, that’s all right,” responded Gerald, easily. “I do know now. I think it was mighty mean of Alf and Dan to try to keep me out of it.”
“Well, he said—” Arthur paused, and looked speculatively at Harry. That youth was apparently much too absorbed in his stamps to hear anything, and Arthur went on sotto voce. “Loring said Dan didn’t want you to get mixed up in it in case the faculty learned about it and made trouble. And I promised I wouldn’t tell you. Gee, I’m an awful ass!”
“No harm done,” said Gerald, soothingly. “I knew something was up, and I meant to find out what it was, too. You might as well tell me all about it now, Arthur.” But Arthur shook his head.
“No, I said I wouldn’t.”
“But you have! And I think it’s rotten mean not to, after I went and got you into the S. P. M.”
“Well, I’ll tell you this much then, Gerald. It’s a joke we’re going to play on—on some one to-night. That’s all. And if we should get caught at it, we’d probably be fired—put on probation anyway. And you don’t want to get put on probation now, do you?”
“I wouldn’t care,” replied Gerald, stoutly. “If you fellows can risk it, I don’t see why I can’t. Who’s in it?”