than wait for the cars, which ran on uncertain schedules.
At the lower end of Lake Tonoka, just over the line in another State, was Boxer Hall, a college somewhat smaller than Randall, while to the west, fifteen miles away, was Fairview Institute, a co-educational school that was well patronized. The three institutions had a common interest in sports, and there was a tri-collegiate league of debating clubs that often furnished milder, if more substantial, excitement.
It was an evening in early April, of the new term after the Easter vacation, that a number of freshmen, who had taken part in the lively scene of the afternoon, and some students who had not, met silently and stealthily back of the boathouse on the back of Sunny River. The night was cloudy, and thus it was darker than usual at that hour.
"Have you fellows got the rope?" asked Langridge in a whisper, as he took his place at the head of the little force.
"Of course," answered Phil Clinton.
"There's no 'of course' about it," retorted Langridge arrogantly. "I've seen the time it's been forgotten."
"What are we going to do with it?" asked Sid Henderson.
"Use it to hang a soph with," spoke Holly
