Matters were soon arranged, and it was not long before five freshmen left Mrs. Harrington’s “quiet house” for freshmen, and started along York Street at a brisk, steady jog.

Merriwell took the lead, and the others came after him at regular distances.  The night air was rather sharp, and there was a bright moon.

Along the streets of New Haven the five freshmen ran, and those who observed them supposed they were some crew in training.

Merriwell set a moderate pace, for he knew it was likely they would need all their wind on the return.  There was no telling what sort of a scrape they might get into.

Rattleton was behind, taking things as easy as possible.  He filled his lungs with the crisp, clear air, and it made him feel like a young race horse, but he held himself in check.

Street actually loafed along, although he managed to keep his place.

“If one of us is caught, he’ll be like the gangplank of a steamer,” called Harry as they left the main part of the city and entered the suburbs.

“How’s that?” asked Blossom.

“Pulled in,” chirped Rattleton.  “Don’t stop to throw anything this way.  Keep right on.”

“They say Browning was caught swiping turks in his freshman year,” said Lewis, “and it cost his old man a round sum to settle and keep the thing quiet, so Bruce wouldn’t be expelled.  Dad Browning has got money to burn.”

“Well, his son’s a good match for him,” Merriwell tossed over his shoulder.

“A good match for him!  Oh, say!” gasped Robinson, exhibiting signs of sudden weakness.

Away they went, laughing and jesting, finally leaving the city behind and getting out into the country.  Up hill and down dale they steadily jogged, covering mile after mile in a rather surprising manner.

At length Merriwell called a halt, and they held a council of war.  Blossom said he knew where they were certain to find turkeys, and so they gave him the lead.  He confessed that there was a chance of getting into trouble, as the owner of the turkeys had been robbed before, and he might be on the watch.  That simply added zest to the adventure, and there was not one of the party who would have consented to look elsewhere for their turkeys.

They finally came in sight of a farmhouse that sat on the side of a hill.  Near the house was a stable and sheds.  A large orchard lay back of the sheds.

“There,” said Blossom.  “That is where old Baldwin lives, and his turks are in one of those sheds.”

“Crumping jickets—­I mean jumping crickets!” exclaimed Harry.  “How bright the moon shines!  If he’s on the watch we can’t get anywhere near those sheds without being seen.”

The boys began to realize that they were engaged in a decidedly perilous adventure.  If one of them should be caught it would mean almost certain expulsion from college, besides a heavy fine if the case were carried to court.