her boys here now?" asked Dick, as they drove off in the
direction of Putnam Hall.

"I reckon the most of 'em are, Master Dick. So many coming an' going I
can hardly keep track of 'em."

"Fred Garrison, Songbird Powell and Hans Mueller back?" asked Sam.

"Yes, an' they told me some wonderful stories of your doings down
south."

"Are Larry Colby and George Granbury here?" questioned Dick.

"Yes."

"I'll be glad to meet Larry and George again," went on Dick. "I suppose
they'll have something to tell of what they did during vacation."

"Every time I come to the Hall I think of the first time I came," said
Tom. "Do you remember how I set off that giant firecracker?"

"Yes, and how old Josiah Crabtree put you under arrest for it," added
Sam. "Wonder where old Crabtree is now?"

"He is out of prison," answered Peleg Snuggers. "I got that from a man
in Cedarville. The man said as how Crabtree went to Canada."

"Hope he stays there and never attempts to bother Mrs. Stanhope again,"
was Dick's comment.

About half the distance to the Hall had been covered when there came a
shout on the road and Peleg Snuggers had to rein in his team. Then
several boys appeared, dressed in cadet uniforms, for Putnam Hall was a
military academy.

"Whoop! here they are, fellows! Hurrah for the Rovers!"

"Rovers by name and rovers by nature!"

"Say, Tom, how do you like being adrift on the Gulf of Mexico?"

"Sam, don't you want to become a regular cowboy?"

"Dick, when I buy a houseboat I'm going to engage you as captain."

And then the students in the road clambered into the carryall and
tumbled all over the Rovers, hugging them and trying to shake hands at
the same time.

"Larry, glad to see you, but please don't smother me."

"I'll love you, George, if only you won't put your elbow through my
ribs."

"I knew Fred would meet us."

"You gif me der honor of dis," came from Hans Mueller. "I tole dem
fellers to come along alretty."

"Good for you, Hansy, old boy!" cried Sam, and gave the German cadet a
tight squeeze.

"Songbird, why don't you turn on the poetry pipe line and let her flow?"
queried Larry Colby, who, even though an officer of one of the
companies, was as jolly as the rest of the students.

"Yes, give us something by all means," said Tom. "Something about
'stilly night,' 'fond recollections,' 'starved cats,' and the like."

"Humph! 'stilly night' and 'starved cats'!" snorted Songbird Powell.
"You must thi