Cross. "Prepare to meet thy doom!" he added in a sepulchral voice.
"Cut it out, Holly," advised Langridge. "I'm afraid the sophs are on to us as it is."
"Then we'll rush 'em!" exclaimed Phil Clinton aggressively.
"No, that won't do any good. We'd never get the clapper, then."
"I know a good way," spoke Fenton. "My uncle says"
"Say, you and your uncle ought to be in. a glass case and in the museum," called Holly. "Dry up, Fenton!"
"Where's the Snail?" asked Langridge.
"Here," replied Sam Looper, who, from his slow movements, and from the fact that he loved to prowl about in the dark, for he could see well after nightfall, had gained that nickname. "What do you want?"
"Will you climb up the rope after I get it in place?"
"Sure."
"Then come on," whispered Langridge. "I guess it's safe now. There don't appear to be any one stirring."
The mysterious body of freshmen moved off in the darkness toward the Booker Memorial Chapel. Their object, as you have probably guessed, was to climb to the steeple and remove
