Nevertheless, Bar had a good deal of a surprise in store for him.
The days had now followed one another until the regular time for “opening the Academy” was close at hand, and nearly all things were in readiness.
“Bar,” said Brayton, that night, after another tug at the Greek, “you and I can fix the rope on the bell to-morrow evening, can’t we, without calling in anybody else?”
“Val and I can do it in ten minutes without troubling you at all,” replied Bar. “If you’ll give us the key in the morning we’ll attend to it right after breakfast.”
There was nothing dull about George Brayton, but he seemed to fall into Bar’s proposition as easily as Gershom Todderley had fallen into the mill-pond.
He must have had a good deal on his mind, indeed.
“Anyhow,” said Val, as they were getting ready for bed, “we must take Zeb Fuller along. It’s only fair after what he did the other night.”
“All right,” said Bar. “School begins next day after, and we must have Zeb pull with us or we’ll lose half the fun of the term.”
There was no difficulty in the morning in securing Zeb’s company.
The only trouble was in avoiding the additional presence of half the boys in the village.