“Let us have some deductions, quick, Tom,” urged Charlie, with a wink.
“Look out, or I’ll make you run like a ball player off for first!” said Tom, scowling slightly.
“But no one could throw me out,” retorted the “grind.”
“Guess I’ll turn in, fellows,” remarked Bob. “Remember we have to hit the trail again to-morrow morning.”
“I can never forget the agonizing look of the chap who had to clean our car,” quoth Charlie. “Wasn’t it the biggest cake of mud you’ve ever seen? Good-night, Bob. Tom will yawn his head off in a minute.”
“Get out!” scoffed Tom. “I’m not a bit more tired than anybody else.”
“Oh, yes, I s’pose you’d like to do it all over again,” laughed Charlie. “Coming?”
And Tom went.
It was very late when the boys got up; in fact, so late that a glance at the clock seemed to give each a pang of conscience.
“Simply awful,” murmured Tom. “Can’t understand it. Why, I didn’t feel a bit tired last night.”