“Run back, Dave, and pilot Greg and Harry here, after they’ve staked the horse down,” Prescott suggested.  “We don’t want to make too much noise, for our tormentors may yet be about somewhere.”

“Hazy stumbled upon some of the blankets,” Greg announced, when he and Harry joined Dave.  “I don’t believe any of our stuff has been carried off, Dick.  It has just been scattered.”

“Perhaps we’d better gather in all our camp stuff first, then,” Dick decided.  “We can’t afford to lose any of our camp outfit.”

Ten or fifteen minutes of searching, with the aid of the lantern, resulted in recovering all of their scattered possessions, even to the last of the cots, pillows and blankets.

“Now, let’s make a sweep of the dark parts of the hotel grounds, and we may happen upon the rah-rahs, still chuckling over the fun they’ve had with us.”

But the five boys had not gone far when they were stopped by a well-dressed young stranger of about twenty.

“Mr. Prescott?” asked the stranger.

“Yes,” nodded Dick.

“I am one of the bell-boys at the hotel.  When I went off duty I asked the manager’s permission to change my uniform for citizen’s clothing and watch those eight noisy fellows.”

“The college boys?” asked Harry quickly.

“They’re not college boys!” returned the young stranger.  “They’ve been giving a fake Saunders yell, and that was what made me dislike them, for I’ve just finished the sophomore year at Saunders myself.  I’m working at the Terraces as bell-boy to help pay next year’s tuition at Saunders.  The manager permitted me to watch those fellows, but somehow they got away from me.  I got track of them again near to your camp.  Just as I came along they were scooting away, but a glance showed me the mischief they had worked, so I followed them.”

“Do you know where they are now?” Dick asked eagerly.

“I know where they were ten minutes ago,” replied the bell-boy.

“Then please take us to them as quickly as you can,” begged Darry vehemently.  “I’m fairly aching to pass the time of night with them!”

“I’ll do it,” agreed the bell-boy.  “Follow me, please.”

“I wonder why they went to all that trouble to be so disagreeable to us,” Prescott muttered, as the little party strode along.

“You had some dispute with that crowd, on the hotel porch to-night, didn’t you?” asked the bell-boy.

“Yes; they tried to address some of our girl friends, whom they didn’t know and we objected to their insolence.”

“That was what made the rah-rah boys sore,” went on the bell-boy.  “I heard them talking about it before I left them.  It seems, too, that the manager sent the head waiter to stop their nonsense in the dining room to-night.  For some reason these sham college boys blame you fellows for that humiliation also.  So they’re chuckling over what they’ve done to your outfit to teach you to mind your own business, as they put it.”