head. You might as well try to stop an express train."

"It's hard to flag that kind of a train," laughed Melvin.

"Sure thing," grinned Eggleston. "Well, so long. I'll just have time to
get to the station. We'll try to even things up next year."

As the boys were strolling back to the Hall, they passed Andy Shanks and
Sid Wilton talking earnestly together. They were so absorbed that they
did not see Fred and his companion.

"Wonder what they're hatching up now?" laughed Fred.

"Some mischief, I'll be bound," answered Granger. "It isn't the first
time I've seen them putting their heads together lately, and somehow or
other, I rather think it has to do with you."

"Nonsense!" said Fred lightly.

"Maybe it's nonsense and maybe it's not," replied Melvin soberly. "I
know Andy pretty well, and I'm dead sure he'll never forget the show you
made of him before the other fellows. At any rate keep your eyes wide
open and look out for squalls."

"I'll take a chance," laughed Fred.

"Don't take too many," Melvin warned him. "Of course, I may be wrong,
but I have a feeling that he's out to do you."

Melvin was a better prophet than he knew.

CHAPTER XXII

ANDY SHANKS GETS BUSY

There were great times on the campus that night. By a special decree of
Dr. Rally, the regular study period was omitted, and after supper the
boys had full liberty to do as they pleased until bedtime, provided they
did not stray beyond the limits of the grounds.

They built a bonfire and paraded about it, carrying brooms to indicate
the clean sweep they had made of the game. They cheered the team in
general, and then cheered each separate member in particular. They
cheered the final touchdown and the boy who had made it. They cheered
Professor Raymond, and even raised a doubtful cheer for Dr. Rally. They
were ready to cheer for anything or anybody that offered them the
slightest excuse. They yelled for speeches from Granger, the captain,
and from Fred, the hero of the day.

Tony Dirocco brought out his violin and played a series of rollicking
tunes that set their feet to jigging and their hands to clapping. Billy
was made to sing his choicest songs until he was hoarse. Then they all
gathered on the broad steps, and lifted up their young voices in the old
school songs that swelled out into the night. And it was a tired, but
thoroughly happy crowd that scattered at last and went reluctantly to
their rooms.

Altogether, it had been o