what Andy said--that he thought Glutts had a lot of German blood in him?"
"That might be. His face looks it, and the name sounds a little that way too."
"Andy and Randy both want to pitch into him," continued the young lieutenant.
"You warn them not to do it--at least, not until this term comes to an end," warned Jack. "They have been cutting up so much since last September that their averages are none too high as it is. They'd be mighty sorry if Captain Dale sent home a bad report about them. It would just about break Aunt Nellie's heart, I'm sure."
Having procured the reference books, the two made their way upstairs to the rooms occupied by them. The Rovers had a suite of four rooms, one of which was used as a sitting room and for studying. As they walked through the upper hallway they passed Nick Carncross and Bill Glutts. Glutts looked sourly at them but did not say a word, and they refused to notice the pair.
"I guess you've got their goat, Bill," remarked Carncross, as they passed on. "That race really belonged to you, and they know it."
"Of course it belonged to me," returned Glutts. "If they hadn't got in my way I'd have won with ease. There isn't a bobsled anywhere around that can beat the Yellow Streak."
"I'm glad you shoved him over in the snow, even if he is a captain," continued Carncross. "He's got too big an opinion of himself."
"He only got to be captain by a fluke, Nick. Gabe Werner should have had that office," continued Glutts.
"Is that why Werner left?" questioned Carncross curiously.
"Oh, no. He left because he got sick of the discipline around here. He said there was no chance for any fun," answered Glutts.
"Where is he now? Did his folks approve of his leaving school?"
"Oh, I guess they didn't care one way or the other. Old man Werner is pretty rich, and he didn't get his money by being educated either. So I guess he doesn't care much for education."
"Does he let Gabe have much spending money?"
"Quite a little--but, of course, not as much as Gabe would like to have. You know Gabe is a good deal of a sport." Bill Glutts' face lit up with satisfaction. "I expect we are going to have a bang-up time together during the holidays."
"Then you expect to see him?"
"Yes; we're planning a trip together."
"Gee! I'll envy you," returned Carncross.
Andy and Randy had not yet come upstairs. Neither could resist the temptation to have a little fun, and after supper they had gone outside and begun to snowball Shout Plunger, the school janitor, and Bob Nixon, the chauffeur.
"It's all in fun, you know," explained Andy, as he let fly a snowball at the old janitor, who was always called Shout because he was so deaf.
"Hi there! you stop that!" roared Shout. And then, when they continued to snowball him, he came after them with a wooden snow-shovel.
"Look out! Here comes the enemy!" cried Randy gayly, and let fly a snowball which struck the upraised snow-shovel and sent a shower of loose snow into the janitor's face.
"You young rascals!" roared Plunger, and then lost his footing on some ice. In endeavoring to keep his balance he sent the snow-shovel whirling through the air. It landed at Andy's feet, catching that fun-loving youth in the shins and sending him flat on his face.
"Hurrah! One down!" came from Bob Nixon good-naturedly, and then the chauffeur picked up a large chunk of snow and threw it high in the air, to land directly on Randy's shoulder.
"Great pyramids of Egypt!" gasped Randy. "Is that a snowslide?" For some of the snow had filled his ear and gone down his neck.
"Oh, we didn't begin this, you know," cried the chauffeur gleefully. "Come on, Shout; let's show 'em what the older generation can do." And then he picked up another chunk of snow and hurled it at Andy, nearly burying that youth while he was endeavoring to regain his feet.
"Hi! Hi you!" spluttered Andy. "We went in for snowballing. We didn't go in for avalanches."
"When you start something, always be sure you can finish it," admonished Bob Nixon. And then he picked up a third chunk of snow; but before he could make use of it the Rover twins had dived out of sight around a corner of the school building.
"I guess that's the time we got the worst of it," remarked Andy ruefully.
"And maybe we deserved it," was Randy's ready response. "Come on and snowball some of the other cadets."
A number were willing, and an impromptu snowballing battle took place which lasted the best part of a quarter of an hour. Then one of the teachers came out and ordered the youths upstairs, for this was the study hour.
On
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