"Don't stretch; that's all," advised Paul. "But come on if you're coming."
They descended to the improvised banquet hall. The place was tastefully arranged, except that Toots had taken the cut flowers Dick had ordered—a mass of roses, pinks and smilax—and stuck them into a big water pitcher in the centre of the table.
"Oh, wow! See that!" cried Dick. "It looks like a boarding-house hash-foundry! Here, Paul, help me scatter the posies more artistically. They remind me of a cabbage-head at a county fair; but Toots meant all right."
The two cadets soon had made several bouquets of the flowers, and set them in different places on the table, producing a much more artistic effect. Then Dick stepped back to admire it.
"I smell grub!" cried a voice outside.
"Hash and baked beans!" added another.
"Pickled pigs' feet!" was a third contribution.
"If I can't have quail on toast, stuffed with horse chestnuts and snowballs I'll not play!" howled a fourth.
"Here they come," said Paul, significantly.
"I hear 'em," replied Dick, with a grin.
The door flew open, and in rushed a crowd of the cadets of Dick's company. At the sight of their captain, they stopped momentarily, and several hands rose in salute.
"Drop it!" cried Dick, warningly. "We're here to have fun. The book of rules and military tac-
