The High School Boys' Fishing Trip Part 4

Then his eye, roving from face to face, took in the fact that his chums were not impressed with the proposed method of transportation.

"Cheer up, fellows," he begged. "You'll find that it will be pretty easy, after all."

"I'd rather believe you, d.i.c.k, than have it proved to me," was Tom Reade's dejected answer. "I thought we were going away for pleasure and rest, but I suppose we can work our way if we have to."

None of these high school boys are strangers to our readers.

Everyone remembers the first really public appearance of d.i.c.k & Co., as set forth in the first volume of the "_Grammar School Boys Series_." Then we met them again in the first volume of the "_High School Boys Series_," ent.i.tled, "_The High School Freshmen_."

That stormy first year of high school life was one that d.i.c.k & Co. could never forget. In the second volume, "_The High School Pitcher_," we found d.i.c.k & Co. actively engaged in athletics, though in their soph.o.m.ore year they did not attempt to make the eleven, but waited until the spring to try for the baseball nine.

In the third volume, "_The High School Left End_," d.i.c.k & Co.

were shown in their struggles to make the eleven, against some clever candidates, and also in the face of bitter opposition from a certain clique of high school boys who considered themselves to be of better social standing than d.i.c.k and his chosen comrades.

In the "_High School Boys' Vacation Series_" our readers have followed d.i.c.k & Co. through their summer pleasures and sports.

In the first volume of this present series, "_The High School Boys' Canoe Club_," the adventures are described that fell to the lot of Prescott, Darrin, Reade and the others in the summer following their freshman high school year. In the second volume, "_The High School Boys In Summer Camp_," our readers found an absorbing narrative of the startling doings of d.i.c.k & Co. in the summer following their soph.o.m.ore year. And now, in this present volume, we at last come upon our young friends at the beginning of their vacation season after the completion of their junior year, with its football victories. Now they are budding seniors, ready to enter the final, graduating cla.s.s of Gridley High School in the coming autumn.

As d.i.c.k looked into the faces of his chums he laughed.

"So you don't like the push-cart idea, eh?" he demanded. "All right; if you fellows would rather loaf than eat-----"

"We can hire a horse, and still have money enough left to eat,"

protested Tom. "See here, d.i.c.k, although fis.h.i.+ng is great fun while it lasts, we shan't be out all summer on a fis.h.i.+ng trip.

We don't need such a lot of money for, say, only a two or three weeks' trip."

"Yes; I think two or three weeks will see us in from our fis.h.i.+ng trip," Prescott admitted. "But if we do come back early, fellows, then we shall need some other kind of a trip for August, won't we?"

"Say, that's right!" cried Dave Darrin, his eyes glistening.

"Fellows, we are troubled with wooden heads. While we've been thinking of nothing but a fis.h.i.+ng trip in July, d.i.c.k has actually had the brains to figure out that we might like to go away on some other kind of outing in August."

"Such an idea did occur to me," replied d.i.c.k.

"What's the scheme for August, d.i.c.k?" demanded Greg eagerly.

"Out with it!" insisted Hazelton.

d.i.c.k shook his head.

"Now, don't be mean," insisted Danny Grin. "d.i.c.k, you owe it to us, almost, to let us get a little look at the machinery that's moving in the back of your head."

"I haven't an August plan---at least, not one that is clear enough for me to submit it and put it to vote before you," d.i.c.k went on. "Fellows, let's set about this present fis.h.i.+ng trip, for this month, and then, while we're away, talk up the proper scheme for August. Whatever we do in the way of fun, next month, will be sure to be better planned if we wait a little before talking it over."

"All right, then," agreed Tom Reade with a sigh. "But I warn you, d.i.c.k, and all you fellows, that if Prescott is too stingy with news about his August plan, I shall put forth one of my own."

"What's your August plan, Tom?" demanded Greg.

"I'm not going to tell you---yet," Reade rejoined, shaking his head mysteriously.

"There are a lot of things that you're not telling us," Dave reminded him. "Just for one little thing, you're not telling us what happened to you last night after you let a lot of strange men chase you out of d.i.c.k's street."

"They didn't chase me off the street!" declared Tom indignantly.

"Then what did happen?" quizzed Danny Grin.

"They all tried to beat me in a foot race," Tom declared, "and I put it all over them!"

"Yet someone must have pa.s.sed you, or got in front of you," teased Greg. "Look at the bruise on your face, and your knuckles."

"Oh, that happened when-----" began Tom, then paused abruptly.

"Yes, yes," pressed Danny Grin. "Tell us about it."

"All right," agreed Tom, "I will. You see, when I got home and into bed, I had a sort of nightmare. Just suppose, for instance, that the mark on my face is where the nightmare kicked me and that I skinned my knuckles against the bedstead when I tried to jump over the bed to return the nightmare's kick."

"Tom Reade," called Dave sternly, "hold up your right hand!"

"Look out, Darry! You're not going to ask Tom to swear to the truth of a yarn like that, are you?" asked d.i.c.k anxiously.

"You may let your hand down again, young man," decided Dave, and Tom, as his hand reached his side, heaved a sigh expressive of great relief.

"Now, have you fellows got your tackle all ready?" d.i.c.k went on.

"Remember the different things in the way of tackle that each of us was to bring."

The others a.s.sured their leader that the matter of tackle had been attended to.

"Then your bedding and your clothing are the only other matters to be considered," d.i.c.k went on, "as we're to travel light."

"As we don't take a horse along," suggested Tom, "then I take it that we are not going to carry any planking for a tent floor."

"We can't very well do that," d.i.c.k answered him. "Fellows, the real thing for us to do, on this trip, is to learn how to move fast and light. We must learn how to do without many things and yet have just as good a time."

"I think that's good sense," murmured Dave. "At the same time, I'll admit, at first blush, that I don't care particularly for the motion of the push cart. That means a lot of extra work for us, if we change camping sites often."

"Then let's put it to a vote whether to hire a horse and wagon, and give up the idea of an August trip," proposed d.i.c.k.

"No need whatever of taking any vote," broke in Tom. "All of us want that August trip, too, and we know that we haven't purses as big as a bank's vault."

And that opinion prevailed, without dissent.

"Greg's house ought to be the best place to keep the push cart over night," d.i.c.k continued. "I'll have the cart there at four this afternoon. Suppose you fellows meet us there, with your bedding and clothing for the trip?"

This also was agreed upon.

While the boys stood there chatting not one of them suspected how eagerly they were being watched by two pairs of eyes.

On the same side of the street, only a door below them, was an unrented cottage. One of the windows of this cottage, upstairs, was open, though closed blinds concealed the fact. Between these blinds peered two young men.

That cottage was the property of Mr. Dodge, vice-president of one of Gridley's banks.

Readers of "_The High School Left End_" have good reason to remember the banker's son, Bert Dodge. He and his friend, Bayliss, also the scion of a wealthy family, had been members of the notorious "sorehead" group in the last year's football squad at Gridley High School.