“Oh, say,” gasped Ned Stover, his eyes bulging, “what’s this—­a powwow outfit?”

“This is the result of the idea you fellows gave me when you spoke of capturing scalps the other evening,” laughed Frank.  “Select your suits, gentlemen, and proceed to make up.”

“Make up?  What for?”

“Just you make up, and I will tell you what for afterward.”

Merriwell’s influence was sufficient to induce them to obey, and he aided them in the work.

“Blate grazes—­I mean great blazes!” chuckled Rattleton, as he rubbed the war paint on his face.  “Won’t we make a bloodthirsty gang of roble ned men—­er, noble red men!”

The boys aided each other, and Frank assisted them all.

“Aren’t you going to make up, Merry?” asked Bandy Robinson.

“Not now.  I am to be the decoy.”

“The decoy?  What’s in the wind, anyway?”

“Well, I have it pretty straight that some sophs, led by Browning, are coming to take me out for an airing to-night.”

“Eh?  Take you out?”

“Yes.”

“And he means to take them in,” laughed Rattleton, arranging a war bonnet on his head.

“That’s just it,” nodded Frank.  “If they come here, we’ll be ready for them.  If they do not come, we’ll call on Mr. Browning.”

“I’m afraid this is rather a serious matter,” said Dismal Jones.

“Oh, don’t begin to croak!” cried Rattleton.  “Merriwell knows his business.  Hurry up with your makeup.  Can’t tell how early the sophs will call.”

So the boys hastened to complete their disguise, and a decidedly savage-looking band they were when all was completed.  Frank surveyed them with satisfaction.

“Ah! my bold warriors!” he cried.  “I am proud of you.  To-night—­to-night we deal the enemy a terrible and deadly blow.”

“We’re ready to hear what the layout is,” eagerly said Ned Stover.

“Well, you are to retire to Robinson’s room, which is exactly opposite this, and wait.  I have two fellows outside to let me know when the enemy approaches and to take a hand in the game at the right time.  When I whistle you are to make your way into this room if you have to break down the door.  That’s all.”

The boys retired to Robinson’s room, where they smoked and waited with great impatience.

Frank sat down and coolly went at his studies.

Nearly an hour passed, and then there was a sound of wheels outside.  The sound stopped before the door.

A few moments later some one ascended the stairs and there came a knock on the door.

“Come in,” called Frank.

The door opened, and Roll Ditson sauntered in, smoking the inevitable cigarette.

“Hello, Merry!” he cried, looking around.  “All alone?”

“All alone, Ditson,” yawned Frank.  “It’s beastly stupid but I am having a hard pull at my studies.”

“Better come out with me and get a little air.  It’s stuffy here.”