" admitted Gilbert regretfully. "But one of 'em
called a skinny girl 'Ada' and somebody is named 'Gladys.'"

"Never mind the clothes," Bobby told him gratefully. "We knew those two
were mixed up in this."

They started cautiously, mindful of Bob's instructions not to make a
noise, and succeeded, after ten or fifteen minutes creeping, in getting
within hearing distance of the despoilers.

"You girls will have to tend to your friends," grinned Bob. "You can't
expect us to discipline them. But we'll give the boys something to
remember!"

The party spread out, and at his signal whistle they sprang forward,
shouting like wild Indians. Straight for the oak tree they charged and
closed in on the group beneath it. Those seated there rose to their feet
in genuine alarm.

"Rush 'em!" shouted Bob.

Pushing and scrambling, those in the attacking party began to force the
others down the narrow path. The boys were struggling desperately and
the girls were resisting as best they could and some were crying.

"Let us out!" wept Ada. "Ow! You're stepping on me! Let us out!"

She kicked blindly, and fought with her hands. The first person she
grasped was Ruth, who was nearly choked before she could jerk her fur
collar free.

"I will get out!" panted Ada. "Push, girls!"

The circle opened for them, and following Ada they dashed through
straight into a tangle of blackberry bushes. Half mad with rage and blind
from excitement they ploughed their way through, fighting the bushes as
though they were flesh and blood arms held out to stop them. When they
were clear of the thicket their clothes were in tatters and their faces
and hands scratched and bleeding cruelly.

There was nothing for them to do but to go back to the school and try to
invent a plausible story for their condition. All the cold cream in the
handsome glass jars on Ada's dressing table could not heal her smarting
face and thoughts that night.

Bob and his friends continued on their resolute way, pushing the luckless
cadets before them. Once out of the woods, they seized them by the jacket
collars and rushed them down to the lake and into the icy waters. They
generously allowed them to come out after a few minutes immersion, and
the sorry, dripping crew began the long run that would bring them to dry
clothes and, it is to be hoped, mended ways.

"Now the potatoes are done," Bob reported, after examining the oven
hollowed out and lined with stones. "Why not combine