Commencement days were coming, and soon the members of the first class would leave Winton Hall to return no more. They were a fine lot of boys, verging into manhood, and Commandant Cullum was proud of the fact that he had been instrumental in turning them out with a military training and good education to face the battle of life.

Vacation was but a week away when one afternoon Fleet Kenby dashed into the room occupied by his chums, Chot Duncan and Tom Pratt.

“Sh——” he cried.

“Well, what?” interrupted Chot.

“Yes; what?” echoed Tom.

“Well, I wanted to tell you fellows that——”

“Well, why don’t you tell us?”

“Yes, don’t get that old habit of cutting off your sentences just when you’ve aroused our curiosity.”

“Give me a chance to——”

“Surely; take it!”

“Help yourself, old boy. If you see any chances lying around loose, absorb them.”

“Now, see here,” said Fleet, “you’ve tried this game on me several times and I’m getting tired of it.”

“He’s tired of our game,” said Chot, with a glance at Tom.

“He’s tired of our game,” said Tom, returning Chot’s look.

“Comes in here arousing our curiosity, then refuses to tell us what he’s getting at.”

“Then says he’s tired of our game.”

“I don’t see any game.”

“Neither do I.”

“Well, I do,” fumed Fleet. “I won’t tell you now; I’ll get out of here—that’s what I’ll do.”

He made a dash for the door, but Tom blocked the passage.

“No, you don’t,” said he. “You’re going to tell us what you came in to tell us, whether you want to tell us or not. Make up your mind to that.”

Then Tom gave the fleshy lad a punch that sent him into Chot’s arms, and Chot shoved him on to one of the beds in a sitting posture. Then the boys tipped Fleet over, one sat on his chest, the other on his feet, and despite his struggles, he was unable to do anything but writhe and twist.

“Nice way to treat a fellow,” he cried. “Nice—”

“Whoa!” shouted Tom. “Now, tell us what you were going to.”

“I refuse!”

“Then take this,” said Chot, and plunging his fingers into Fleet’s ribs, he tickled him until he fairly squealed.

“Oh, I’ll tell—I’ll tell!” cried Fleet. “You fellows think you’re smart, don’t you, but I’ll get square for this.”

“Oh, he’s going to get square,” said Chot. “He don’t want anything out of that box we received from home to-day.”

“No; express packages from Mortonville don’t interest Fleet,” Tom replied.

“Especially when they contain jam and cookies.”

“Eh? What’s that?” cried Fleet, trying to sit up. He stopped struggling.

“I was just speaking to Tom,” Chot replied. “You and I, Tom, will eat raspberry jam, chocolate cake, currant jelly and brown bread.”

“Oh, yum, yum!” cried Fleet. “Let me up this minute and I’ll forget you ever sat on me.”

“Shall we let him up?” asked Tom.

“May as well. I think he has learned his lesson. The next time he has something to tell us, he’ll tell it, and not make us ask him over and over.”

A moment later Fleet was on his feet.

“Where’s the box?” he demanded, looking around.

“First, what are you going to tell us?”

“Aw—that can wait—I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. Tell us.”

“Well, the canoes have come,” said Fleet. “I came in to tell you so Pod wouldn’t hear.”

“Pod’s came with ours?”

“Yes; and mine came in from Mortonville. Funny, wasn’t it, they all came on the same day?”

“Yes,” said Chot “I ordered Pod’s name put on his. I thought that would please him.”

They were planning the way to tell Pod of his good fortune, when the little fellow came dashing into the room.

“What do you think?” he cried. “There’s a package of freight down at the depot for me, and I don’t even know what it is.”

“That so?” said the Comrades in the same breath. No one cracked a smile and Pod continued:

“Will you fellows go down with me? There may be freight charges. If so, I shall want to borrow a little till I get my next allowance from Mr. Hounson.”

“That’ll be all right,” said Chot. “We were going down to the depot, anyway. Fleet has ordered his canoe sent over from Mortonville and it should be here to-day.”

The boys left the barracks together and walked toward the depot. Pod was scarcely able to conceal his curiosity. Never before had he received a package of any nature, and he wondered who could have sent him this.

When the boys entered the depot freight room a few moments later and saw the four canoes spread out before them, all were thrilled with delight.

There was Fleet’s canoe from Mortonville, and three brand new ones that had come by freight from New York. And staring up from one of them in the blackest of black letters was the name “Pod Meelick.”

“Say, fellows, am I dreaming?” cried Pod. “That—that surely isn’t for me?”

“Must be—your name is on it,” said Tom.

“But I never ordered anything like that—I—”

Seeing tears in the little lad’s eyes, the Comrades burst into a roar of laughter, and Pod after a moment joined them, but his was a laugh bordering on the hysterical. It was several minutes before they got him calmed down, and told him that the canoe was a present from the Experience Club.

“And you mean—you mean that I am going on your canoe trip?” asked Pod, his eyes fairly bulging from their sockets.

“If you will do us the honor,” said Chot.

“Oh, this is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was just wondering what I would do during vacation. It would certainly have been lonesome in Bayville after the good times I’ve had.”

They arranged to have the canoes taken to the Winton boat house, where they could be kept until the day after commencement, when the boys were to start on their summer trip up the river.

On their way back to the school the boys met Truem Wright, who came toward them along the sidewalk in front of the gym. Truem looked rather glum, they thought, and to show their good will each of the boys spoke courteously to him.

“I’ve been looking for you fellows,” he surprised them by saying. “I—I——”

“Come along with us, Truem,” said Chot, kindly, as the other hesitated.

“Well, if you don’t mind,” he said, and falling into step with them, walked on toward the barracks. “Vacation’s pretty near,” Truem went on after a moment, looking at the ground as he walked along, “and I hate to leave Winton without telling you boys what you’ve done for me.”

“What we’ve done for you!” gasped Tom, with a queer look at his chums.

“Yes, what you’ve done for me. You’ve made me see myself as I was. I know now that I’ve been a cad—I knew it all along, but didn’t have sense enough to admit it. You fellows have always been on the square with me, while I’ve tried to injure you on every occasion. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I’m tired of having the whole school down on me, and feeling that I have no friends among the cadets except certain ones whose friendship is not desirable. I don’t ask you to take me into your set—I realize that would be asking too much—but I want to ask you right out to be my friends.”

When Truem paused there was a moment of silence. This was broken by Pod.

“Do you include me in that, Truem?” he asked.

“Yes, kid, of course I do. I’ve treated you worse than anyone, because I picked on you for years back in Bayville. I’m sorry for that, too. I want to earn the regard and friendship of you all.”

“You’ve earned that already, Truem, by expressing sorrow for what you’ve done,” said Chot. “We’ve never had anything against you—in fact, we’ve always thought that you had the material in you for the making of a mighty nice fellow, and now that you’ve found it out yourself, no one will be readier to offer you friendship than we. Am I right, boys?”

“You bet you are,” said Fleet.

“You’ve treated us rather meanly, Truem,” said Tom, who was the most reluctant to give in. “But a man who can pitch a baseball game as well as you can’t be very bad, so here’s my hand, and I’m your friend as long as you want me to be.”

Each of the boys shook hands with Truem. And as they did so they looked up to see Bert Creighton, Wilkes Davis, Dan Kirlicks and Randy Denton approaching. With the Comrades and Pod, these boys had become known at Winton as the inseparable eight.

“We’ve taken Truem into the fold, fellows,” said Chot, in answer to the looks of surprise on their faces.

“I’m sorry for everything,” said Truem. “I want your friendship. Can I have it?”

“You can have anything I’ve got if Chot Duncan says so,” said Wilkes Davis, extending his hand. The other boys made remarks appropriate to the occasion, then all tried to make Truem feel at home, and when they reached the barracks had succeeded in relieving him of the most of his embarrassment.

The boys soon began to get ready for their canoe trip. One of the first things they did was to arrange with Commandant Cullum to leave their ice yachts in the Winton boat house during the summer. The boat house was a commodious one, and the yachts were pulled up onto a platform in one end, and covered with pieces of tarpaulin.

“I wish I could take the voyage with you,” said Truem Wright, one day, when the Comrades were busy laying in a small stock of provisions and otherwise equipping their canoes for the trip.

“You’re welcome, if you can get a canoe,” said Tom.

“It’s too late for that now,” said Truem. The tone in which he said it told plainly that he wished it wasn’t.

“Well, I’ll tell you what you do. By the middle of July we’ll be in camp somewhere among the Thousand Islands. You’ll be welcome there at any time, Truem. Shall we look for you?”

“Yes,” responded the Bayville boy, a grateful look in his eyes. “I’ll be there all right, and thank you.”

“Come along and be one of us. The more the merrier.”

Truem became the wonder of the other boys. To those who had known him as an enemy, the change was a revelation of what could happen when a boy realized that he was a cad and was anxious to make amends. With Truem making friends, and Roy Damon already on fairly intimate terms, the Comrades had but one enemy left—Dill Newman.

“And he’s going to be against us during our entire course at Winton,” said Tom, to which Chot and Fleet nodded a vigorous assent.

It was arranged before the boys parted from Bert Creighton that they should stay at least a week at his home on Lake George.

“And who knows,” said Bert, “I may go on up the country with you.”

The day after commencement the academy was deserted. All of the cadets were anxious to be off to their homes or on vacation trips, and finally only the Comrades and Pod were left. They had sent their trunks to their homes in Mortonville intending to go after them before the fall term opened.

Toward evening of the day after commencement, when the sun was getting ready to dip behind the hills on the west bank of the river, they pushed out into the stream, these four strong, sturdy fellows, on a journey that was to be full of surprising adventures.