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So d.i.c.k himself attended to the horse. Dan was already gathering firewood, which Dave piled into the stove in the wagon.
Soon water was boiling, coffee was being ground, tins opened, and a general air of comfort and good fellows.h.i.+p prevailed in that forest.
"We'll have to give you the palm for being a good trainer, d.i.c.k,"
declared Tom, taking a bite out of a sandwich and following it with a sip of coffee, "but you have one short-coming. You're no fortune teller. So, as you can't foretell the future, I vote that, after this, we breakfast in the morning and swim later in the day. It would affect my heart in time, if we had to battle every morning for our breakfast in this fas.h.i.+on."
"I can't get over the impudence of those tramps," muttered Darry, as he set his coffee cup down. "They couldn't hope to get away with the horse and wagon and sell them in these days of the rural telephone. They couldn't use our clothing for themselves. And yet they stole all we had in order to get hold of our food. At that, they didn't care what became of us, or how long we had to travel about in these woods without food or clothing."
"The tramps must be optimists," laughed Prescott. "Probably they had an abiding faith that all would turn out well with us, and so proposed to help themselves to what they needed."
"I wonder whether they'll fool with our outfit again," pondered Tom grimly, "if they come across it in our absence."
"I don't know," said d.i.c.k gravely. "As you've already reminded me, I am no foreteller of the future."
CHAPTER VIII
WHEN THE PEDDLER WAS "FRISKED"
It was a hot and dusty road that lay before them when they again took up their march that day.
Yet d.i.c.k Prescott insisted that, despite the late start, they must count upon covering twenty miles for that second day.
At night they halted on the edge of woods so far from the nearest farm house that Prescott did not consider it necessary to hunt up the owner and ask permission.
"Now, we'll have to see if we can find water here," d.i.c.k proposed.
"Let's scatter, and the fellow who finds drinkable water must let out a yell to inform the others."
"I'll save you some trouble," Reade offered. "You fellows needn't hunt water at all. Give me the buckets and I'll go and get it."
"Have you been in this part of the country before?" asked d.i.c.k.
"No; and I don't need to have been here before in order to know that this ground is full of water," replied Reade, who was full of practical knowledge of that sort. "If I were a civil engineer, out with a field party, I'd mark this section 'water' on the map.
Look at the ground here under the trees. It's as moist as can be."
Tom departed, but barely two minutes had elapsed when he was back with two pailfuls of water as clear as crystal.
"It's nearly as cold as ice water," Tom announced. "There's a bully big spring just a few steps back in the woods."
"Then I'm going to use some of this to wash up," Darrin declared.
"I'll go with you on the next trip, Tom, and help carry the water."
"You'd better wait until we get the tent up before we wash," suggested Prescott. "Then you'll need it more."
Quick work was made of the encamping. Dan and Greg, from the wagon, pa.s.sed down the tent itself, the floor boards and joists, the cots and bedding and some of the food supplies.
Then all hands quickly put up the tent. Reade and Hazelton had the flooring down in a jiffy. Dan and Greg put up the cots, while d.i.c.k and Dave set up the folding camp table and started the fire in the stove with a bundle of f.a.gots brought in by Hazelton.
"Now, get busy with the wash-up," d.i.c.k called.
Within thirty minutes after halting, supper was on the table.
"How far from a swimming place this time?" Tom asked.
"Three miles, if I've studied the map right," replied Prescott, taking the road map from his pocket and pa.s.sing it over.
"To-morrow," said Dave, "some of us will swim in plain sight of the outfit all the time."
"Do you think you can hike three miles and swim before breakfast in the morning?" asked d.i.c.k.
"The way I feel now," said Tom, pus.h.i.+ng his campstool back from the table, "I shan't need anything to eat to-morrow."
"You must feel ill, then," declared Danny Grin.
"No; I feel just filed up enough to last for two or three days,"
sighed Reade contentedly.
Harry and Greg were a bit footsore, but the other boys claimed to feel all right.
"Do any of you feel like taking an evening walk?" asked d.i.c.k with a smile.
"I do," Darrin declared promptly.
"Not I," replied Tom. "At least not so soon after supper."
"Shall we try the walk?" d.i.c.k asked Darrin.
"I'm ready," Dave agreed. "Come along, then." Though it was dark, the two boys decided not to take a lantern with them.
"We don't need one on a public highway," said d.i.c.k as they plunged off down the dark road.
"How far shall we go?" Darrin asked.
"I think two miles away from camp and two miles back, ought to be far enough," d.i.c.k replied.
"If we feel like going farther, we can tackle it when the time comes," Darrin answered. "But how shall we judge the distance?"
"We'll walk briskly for thirty-five to thirty-eight minutes,"
Prescott suggested. "Then we'll turn back. While we're out we may get some idea of whether there's a swimming place nearer than three miles from camp."
Neither felt in the least footsore. Indeed, these two hardy high school boys thoroughly enjoyed their tramp in this cooler part of the twenty-four hours.
"I wish we could live outdoors all the time," murmured Darrin, as he filled his lungs with the fine night air.
"A lot of folks have felt that way," smiled d.i.c.k. "The idea is all right, too, only the work of the civilized world couldn't be carried on by a lot of tramps without homes or places of business."