“I don’t believe they’re coming to-night, after all,” said Bert disappointedly, as he turned away from the window. He was dressed in his oldest trousers and wore a canvas football jacket. Hansel, propped on one elbow on the window seat, was similarly attired. It was long after supper, and twilight was fast deepening to dark. The stretch of road visible from the study window which they had been watching for almost an hour past was already merging itself with the surrounding gloom.

“We couldn’t see them now,” muttered Hansel, “if a whole army of Towners marched along it.”

“I’m going to light up,” said Bert disgustedly.

“Go ahead,” his roommate answered. “I guess you’re right, Bert. It’s to-morrow night,[57] after all. I wish, though, that they’d come and have it over with. I can’t study now after having the raid in mind all day.”

“I don’t feel much like it myself,” Bert replied as he scratched a match loudly, “but I guess I’ll have to do it if I don’t want to get into trouble. That’s the worst about being on the team. Other fellows can get behind a bit in their studies and no one thinks anything about it, but just let one of the football——”