"But what do all of them mean by blowing you sky high." "That remains to be seen," said Sam.
"Or rather felt," added Tom, who had to have his little joke.

"Maybe they'll plant some dynamite under the college and blow us up!" "Hardly that, Tom," returned his older brother.

"But they may try some kind of a dirty trick along those lines." "Don't worry, boys, don't worry!" cried Songbird soothingly.

"Let the troubles of the future take care of themselves", and then he murmured softly: "Though the skies be dark and dreary And hope be almost dead, And hearts are all so weary----" "Each one can go to bed!" finished Tom.

"A fine bit of poetry truly, Songbird, old sport." "Who said anything about going to bed ?" snorted the would-be poet.