Roaming through the woods caused Songbird to become poetic, and while they rested in the sunshine, and picked some of the nuts that Tom and Sam had cracked, he recited some verses composed on the spur of the moment:

"Hark to the silence all around!

The well-trained ear doth hear no sound.

The birds are silent in their nest, All tired Nature is at rest.

The brook in silence finds its way From shadows deep to perfect day.

The wind is dead, there is no breeze--"

"To make a fellow cough and sneeze!"

murmured Tom, and gave a loud ker-chew! that set all the girls to laughing.

"That isn't right!" declared Songbird half angrily. "There is no sneeze in this poem,"

"Oh, excuse me. I only thought I'd help you out," answered Tom soberly. And then the would-be poet continued:

"The wind is dead, there is no breeze To stir the bushes or the trees.

Full well I know, as here I stand, That Solitude commands the land!"

"Good! Fine! Immense! Great!" cried Sam enthusiastically. "Hurrah for Solitude!"

"Why, Mr. Powell, you are a real poet," said one of the girls gravely.

And this pleased Songbird greatly.

"You'll have to write in my autograph alb.u.m," said another, and the would-be poet readily consented. Later he inscribed a poem in the book three pages long.

At last it came time to leave the woods, and the boys walked with the girls toward the road. As they did this they heard the sound of wheels.

"Must be a carriage coming," said d.i.c.k, and stepped into the roadway to see, followed by the others in the party. A few seconds later a turnout rumbled into sight. It was the Hope Seminary carryall, and it contained half a dozen girls, including Dora, Nellie and Grace.

"h.e.l.lo! Look there!" cried Tom, and raised his cap, and the other boys did the same. Dora and her cousins looked at the crowd, and their faces flushed. They bowed rather stiffly, and then the carryall bowled on its way.

"Why, those are your friends!" cried Minnie, turning to the Rovers.

"Don't you want to speak to them?"

"It's too late now," answered d.i.c.k. He had a curious sinking sensation in his heart that he could not explain. He looked at his brothers, and saw that they, too, were out of sorts.

The pa.s.sing of the carryall put a damper on matters, and the girls felt it. They talked with the Rovers and Songbird a few minutes longer and then turned in one direction while the Brill students turned in another.

"Fine lot of girls," was Songbird's comment. "Very nice, indeed. And they know how to appreciate poetry, too," he added with satisfaction.

"Oh, yes, they are all right," answered d.i.c.k carelessly. Somehow, he was now sorry he had gone to the woods after nuts.

"I am going to call on all of them some time," went on Songbird. "That Minnie Sanderson told me she plays the piano, and sings. I am going to get her to sing a new song I am writing. It goes like this--"

"Excuse me, Songbird; not now," said d.i.c.k. "I want to do an extra lesson." And he hurried off, while Sam and Tom did the same.

Two hours later d.i.c.k ran into William Philander Tubbs, who had been down to town in company with Stanley.

"Had a lovely time, don't you know," drawled William Philander. "While Stanley posted some letters and addressed some picture postals I did up the shops. And what do you think? I found a beautiful new maroon necktie, and it was only a dollar--same kind they would charge one seventy-five for in the big cities. And I saw a new style of collar, and some patent-leather pumps that have bows with loose ends, and--"

"Some other time, Billy," interrupted d.i.c.k. "I'm in a hurry now."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But, d.i.c.k, one other thing. I met Miss Stanhope and her cousins."

"You did?" And now d.i.c.k was willing to listen. "Where?"

"At one of the stores. They were doing some buying, in company with those chaps you don't like."

"The chaps I don't like! You don't mean--"

d.i.c.k paused in wonder.

"I mean that Flockley chap and his chums, Koswell and Larkspur."

"Were Miss Stanhope and the Misses Laning with those fellows?"

demanded the elder Rover.

"They seemed to be. They were buying fruit and candy, and I think Flockley treated to hot chocolate. The girls seemed glad enough to see me, but I--ah--didn't want to--ah--break in, you know, so I came away."

"Where did they go after having the chocolate and candy?"

"I don't know. I didn't see them after that." And there the talk came to an end, for several other students appeared. d.i.c.k walked off in a thoughtful mood.

"Deeper and deeper!" he told himself, with something like a groan.

Then he hunted up Sam and Tom.

"Going with Flockley and that crowd!" cried Tom. "Not much! I won't have it!" And he commenced to pace the floor.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Sam.

"Call on the girls and talk it over--and you and d.i.c.k are going with me."

"I'll not go," declared d.i.c.k.

"Neither will I," added Sam.

"Yes, you shall--and to-night," said Tom firmly.

CHAPTER XX

DAYS OF WAITING

Eight o'clock that evening saw the three Rovers on their way to Hope Seminary. Tom was the leader, and it had taken a good half hour's arguing on his part to get d.i.c.k and Sam to accompany him.

"You'll make a fool of yourself, and make fools of us, too," was the way Sam expressed himself.