DODGE AND BAYLISS HEAR SOMETHING

"If we start to-morrow we must hustle all day long to-day," declared
Dave Darrin.

"That's true," agreed Greg Holmes, as the two boys stood on a
side street not far from Main Street in Gridley.

"I wish the rest of the fellows would hurry along," Dave went
on impatiently.

"At all events, I wish Dick would hurry up, as he has charge of
the arrangements," Greg made answer.  "Oh, my!  But I'm getting
anxious to see the fish nibble."

"I thought you didn't care especially about fishing," Dave murmured,
regarding his friend.

"Probably, as far as mere fishing goes, I don't care so very much,"
young Holmes assented.  "But when fishing means weeks of outdoor
life, free from the noise and dust of the town---then I'm simply
wild about fishing as an excuse for getting away.  Probably at
the end of our fun we'll all be so sick of fish, from having had
to eat so much of it, that any one of us will run away and hide
when we suspect that the home folks are planning to send us on
errands to a fish store.  It would be all the same to me if we
were going clamming, or hunting, or on any other kind of expedition,
as long as it brought us to life under canvas and sleeping in
the very place where pure, fresh air is made.  Here comes Dick
now!"

Young Prescott came swiftly up to his friends.

"Well, I think I've gotten about everything fixed," Dick announced.

"Tell us all the plans," urged Greg eagerly.

"What's the matter with waiting until all the other fellows show
up?" Prescott inquired.  "That will save me from having to go
twice over the same ground.  While we're waiting I'll tell you
Tom Reade's latest one."

"A funny trick?" queried Greg.

"Needless question!" rebuked Dave Darrin.  "Tell us about the
latest one, Dick."

Thereupon the leader of Dick & Co. told of Tom's scheme for making
people think one of their windows broken.

"Did it sound real?" Dave demanded.

"Did it?" inquired Dick.  "It fooled me.  I thought surely that
our rear store window had been smashed to pieces.  The sound is
as natural as any joker could wish.  But I haven't told you the
other half of the story."

Thereupon Dick told about the pitcher of water dumped so unerringly
on Tom, and of Reade's flight with the crowd pursuing him.

"I'd like to have been near enough to hear just what Tom said
when the water struck him," laughed Darrin.

"Did the people running after him catch him?" asked Greg.

"I don't believe so," Dick Prescott smiled.  "When Tom gets under
way in earnest, his middle name, as you may have observed, is
Double Speed---and then a bit more."

"Who's talking about me?" gruffly demanded Reade, coming up behind
the group.  "Dick, you old rascal!  That was a mean trick you
played upon me when you hurled that water down on me last night!
But say, didn't it sound just like a three dollar pane of glass
going to pieces?"

"It certainly did," laughed Prescott.  "And by the way, Tom, did
the water, when it struck, make you think at all about what you've
read of Niagara Falls?"

"Hang you!" grumbled Tom, shaking a fist.  "Why did you pour the
wet stuff on me like that?"

"Because I was fooled myself," Dick promptly rejoined.  "I thought
some rascal was plotting mischief to the store.  I wanted to mark
that rascal with a suit of wet clothes, then run down in the street
and collar him with his wet clothes on as a marker.  But Dad called
me back, and so I missed you.  I heard the crowd after you, however.
Did you get caught, Tom?"

Reade's answer was something of a growl.

"What happened between you and the crowd?" pressed Darrin, scenting
some news from Reade's mysterious, half-sulky manner.

"Never you mind," Tom growled.

"Don't tell us," Dick urged.  "We can guess a few things, anyway.
You've a bruised spot over your left cheek bone that looks like
the mark of a punch on the face."

"Go ahead and tell us what happened, Tom," urged Greg.

Reade only scowled.

"Anyway, you must have avenged yourself," Dick smiled.  "Just
look at the way the knuckles of your right hand are skinned.
You certainly hit someone hard."

Tom flushed quickly as he glanced at the knuckles in question,
then thrust his right hand into his pocket with an air of indifference.

"Be a good fellow and tell us the finish of the adventure," begged
Darrin.

"Certainly," grinned Reade.  "The end of my adventure was-----"

"Yes, yes!" pressed Greg, as Tom hesitated.

"The end of the adventure came," Tom continued maliciously, "when
I turned out the gas in my little room and hopped into bed.  I
slept like a top, thank you."

"Now, now, now!" Dick warned him. "Thomas, you're hiding something
from us!"

"If I am, it's my own business, and I've a right to hide it,"
retorted Tom, smiling once more, though still uncommunicative.

At this moment Hazelton and Dan Dalzell, otherwise known as Danny
Grin, came up.  They, too, had to hear all about the bottle-breaking
trick.

"How did you ever come to think of a thing like that, Tom?" asked
Harry Hazelton.

"I thought of it before I tried it out at Dick's," Reade rejoined,
and explained how he had helped Timmy Finbrink out of a scrape.

"What did you say the fellow's name is, Tom?" Dick asked.

"His name is Timmy Finbrink," Reade rejoined, "and he looks the
part. Just one glance at Timmy, and you know that he's all that
the name implies."

Then followed, for the benefit of the two latest arrivals, the
story of Tom's attempt in the rear of the Prescott bookstore.

Harry and Dalzell duly admired the bruise on Tom's face.

"Now, be a gentleman, Tom," urged Harry mischievously, "and let
us have a good, satisfying look at your skinned knuckles."

"Umph!" grunted Reade.

"Or, at least," pursued Harry relentlessly, "tell us just what
it was into which you ran to get such a mark on your face."

"Umph!" retorted Reade once more.  "Danny, in the name of mercy,
take that grin of yours around the corner and lose it!"

"I'll try," promised Dan, "provided you'll tell us who caught
you last night, and why he punched your face."

But Tom, knowing that he had them all wild with curiosity, refused
to reveal the secret.

"Now, let's get back to the big fishing trip," begged Greg Holmes.
"Dick, what's the plan?"

"We start to-morrow," Prescott rejoined.

"Humph!" grunted Holmes.  "We knew that all along.  What we want
are the particulars in detail."

"In the next place, then," Dick replied, "we shall devote a good
deal of our time, while away, to the pleasurable excitement of
fishing."

"Perhaps you won't be able to get away," Greg retorted, "if you
go on stringing us in that fashion.  I warn you that we're becoming
impatient."

"That's right," nodded Dave Darrin.  "Get down to actual particulars,
Dick."

"Well, then," Prescott resumed, "we meet at the same old grocery
store in the morning.  There we stock up with food."

"Are we going to hire a horse and wagon for transporting our tent,
cots, bedding and food?" Dan asked.

"No," Dick replied.  "I've been thinking that over, and the funds
won't stand it.  So I've rented a push cart for two dollars.
We can keep it as long as we need it.  The tent, folding cots,
blankets, pillows and kitchen utensils will go on the cart."

"Do we have to push that cart?" demanded Danny Grin, looking displeased.

"We do, if we want the cart to go along with us," Dick admitted.

Danny Grin groaned dismally as he remarked:

"That one detail of the arrangements just about spoils all the
pleasure of the trip, then."

"No, it won't," Dick reported promptly.  "I've looked into that.
The wheels are well greased---the axles, I mean.  I've loaded
the cart with more weight than we shall put on it, and it pushes
along very easily.  If we come to a bad stretch of road, then
two fellows can manage the cart at a time.  The scheme saves us
a lot of expense, fellows."

"Will all the food go on the cart, tool" asked Dave.

"Each one of us can carry some of the food,"  Dick replied.

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, Dick, 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 Dick
& 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_," entitled, "_The High School Freshmen_."
That stormy first year of high school life was one that Dick
& Co. could never forget.  In the second volume, "_The High School
Pitcher_," we found Dick & Co. actively engaged in athletics,
though in their sophomore 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_," Dick & 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 Dick and his chosen comrades.

In the "_High School Boys' Vacation Series_" our readers have
followed Dick & 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 Dick & Co. in the
summer following their sophomore 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 class of Gridley High School
in the coming autumn.

As Dick 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, Dick, although fishing is great fun
while it lasts, we shan't be out all summer on a fishing 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 fishing
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 fishing trip in July, Dick 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 Dick.

"What's the scheme for August, Dick?" demanded Greg eagerly.

"Out with it!" insisted Hazelton.

Dick shook his head.

"Now, don't be mean," insisted Danny Grin.  "Dick, 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," Dick went
on.  "Fellows, let's set about this present fishing 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, Dick, 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 Dick'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 passed 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 Dick 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?" Dick went on.
"Remember the different things in the way of tackle that each
of us was to bring."

The others assured 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," Dick 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," Dick 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 Dick.

"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," Dick 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.

As our readers well remember, Dodge and Bayliss had carried their
opposition to Dick & Co. to such dishonorable extent that they
had been given the "silence" by the boys and girls attending the
Gridley High School.

Dodge and Bayliss had thereupon left home to attend a private
school, and they had gone away from Gridley with bitter hatred
of Dick & Co. rankling in their hearts.

Just at this present moment Dodge and Bayliss were back in the
home town.  Deeply and properly humiliated by the contempt with
which they were regarded in Gridley, these two "soreheads" had
concealed from all but members of their families the fact that
they were in town.

Bert had secured from his father the keys of the cottage.  Two
cots had been placed in a front room.  Late the night before
Dodge had brought food supplies to the cottage.  Here the two
youngsters were to remain secretly for a few days until Bayliss
received from his family, then abroad, the money needed for his
summer outing.  What the elder Dodge did not know or even suspect,
was that his son and Bayliss had returned with some half-formed
plans of paying back old scores against Dick & Co.

"I knew this cottage was the place for us," Bert whispered.  "As
I told you, Bayliss, this corner is a favorite meeting place for
Prescott and his fellow muckers."

"From what I hear, they're going to leave town for a few weeks,"
replied Bayliss.

"Yes; going out into the wilds on some sort of fishing jaunt."

"I wish we knew their plans better than we do," murmured Bayliss.

"Don't believe they know 'em themselves any too well," sneered
Bert Dodge.  "However, we don't need to know where they're going.
We can follow 'em, can't we?"

"Yes; and get jolly well thumped for our pains, maybe," retorted
Bayliss dryly.

"Well, if you're afraid, we'll let 'em depart in peace," mocked
Bert.

"Who's afraid?" demanded Bayliss irritably.

"I hope you're not," retorted Bert Dodge.

"If you're not afraid---if you're as thoroughly game as I am---then
we'll have some satisfaction out of those fellows."

"Lead me to it!" ordered Bayliss hotly.

"I will, to-morrow morning," promised Bert Dodge.  "If you stick
to me, we'll make those muckers sorry they ever knew us!"

"We must be under way by nine o'clock," the listeners heard Dick
say.  "We go west, over Main Street.  We must start promptly,
for we have sixteen miles to go to our first camp at the second
lake in the Cheney Forest."

"Do you hear that?" whispered Bert.  "The idiots have given us
their full route!  We can leave at four in the morning, and won't
have to follow 'em at all.  We can be there ahead of time, and
have all the lines laid."

"Somehow," sounded Dave Darrin's voice, "I have a hunch, fellows,
that we're going to have the finest time we ever had in our lives."

"We would have," sighed Tom Reade, "if it weren't for that push
cart."

"At four o'clock this afternoon, then, and be prompt," called
Dick, preparing to leave the others.

"Wait a moment," urged Dave.

"What's the matter?" inquired Dick, halting.

"Tom's just on the point of telling us what really happened to
him last night," smiled Darry.

"Humph!" grunted Reade, walking briskly away.

"I can tell what's going to happen to 'em all on some other nights,"
whispered Bert Dodge in his friend's ear.

"To get square with those muckers, who drove us out of Gridley
High School and out of town is my only excuse for living at present,"
sniffed Bayliss.