The Grammar School Boys in Summer Athletics Part 17

"Fine," returned d.i.c.k with enthusiasm.

"Room enough in the pond for another?" Hi asked.

"Surely. Come on in."

"I believe I will," Hi answered, seating himself and fumbling at his shoe-lacings.

A couple of minutes later Hi dived from the log and swam out to the other boys.

"Are you fellows any good on swimming distances?" Martin asked, as, with lazy stroke, he joined d.i.c.k & Co. The North Grammar boy was an expert swimmer and proud of it.

"I guess we can swim a little way," Prescott replied. "I don't remember that we ever swam any measured courses."

"Can you swim down to that old elm?" asked Hi, indicating a tree at the further end of the pond.

"We ought to," smiled d.i.c.k.

"Come along, then," invited Hi, starting with a side stroke.

d.i.c.k & Co. started in irregular fashion, Darrin and Reade soon spurting on ahead of Martin.

"How long can you tread water?" inquired Hi, after they had reached the neighborhood of the elm.

This sport is always interesting to boys who are good swimmers.

Forthwith some endurance tests at treading were started. Then Hi showed them all a few "stunts" in the water, some of which d.i.c.k & Co. could duplicate easily, and some which they could not.

Thus the minutes slipped by. Hi, for once in his life, went out of his way to be entertaining to Central Grammar boys. But, at last, he muttered to himself:

"I guess Teall has had plenty of time for his tricks. If he hasn't, then all afternoon wouldn't he time enough."

"h.e.l.lo, Hi," called d.i.c.k. "Where are you going?"

"Back to dress," Martin replied. "I've been in long enough."

"I guess we all have," d.i.c.k nodded, himself turning back. His chums followed.

"I don't know whether I'll dress or not," remarked Tom Reade, as he shot ahead of the others. "If I find I don't want to dress, then I'll just sit on the bank and dry my skin before going in again."

Continuing his spurt, Tom kept on until be reached the log from which the first diving had been done. He waded ash.o.r.e, looked about in some bewilderment, and then called over the water:

"Say, fellows, just where was it that we left our clothes?"

"Why, barely a dozen feet back of the log," d.i.c.k called from the water.

"Hardly ten feet from where my clothes lie," added Hi Martin, his face solemn, but with an inward chuckle over the rage of six boys that he knew was soon to follow.

"But where are your clothes, Martin?" asked Tom, staring about him. "Where is anybody's clothes?"

The look in Hi's face changed rapidly. He took a few swift, strong strokes that bore him to sh.o.r.e.

Then, indeed, Martin's wrath and disgust knew no bounds. For his clothing was as invisible as that of the Central Grammar boys.

Chapter IX

HI MARTIN TRIES TO MAKE TERMS

"Confound that fellow Teall!"

This angry expression slipped past Hi's lips unguardedly.

By this time d.i.c.k Prescott was on sh.o.r.e. His quick, keen glances took in the patent fact that some one had removed all the discarded clothing from sight.

"So Ted Teall was around here, and you knew that he was going to take our clothing?" demanded d.i.c.k, flashing a searching look at Hi Martin.

When too late, Hi Martin saw how he had put his foot into the mess by his indignant exclamation.

"And, knowing that Teall was going to slip away with our clothing,"

d.i.c.k went on, "you went into the water and lured us away to the lower end of the pond. That was what you did to us, was it, Martin?"

Hi shook his head, then opened his mouth to utter an indignant denial.

"Don't try to fool us," advised d.i.c.k bitterly. "Martin, you may have thought it funny, but it was a mean trick to serve us, and I am glad that Teall has shown you how little he likes you."

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances Ted might have left Hi Martin's clothes behind. It had been Hi's impolitic remark about "mucker schools" that had decided Ted to take away Hi's belongings as well.

"That Teall is a dirty sneak," cried Hi.

"He was simply a comical genius as long as he took only our clothes,"

d.i.c.k retorted. "But now that your things are gone as well, it's a mean, low-down bit of business."

"Martin," observed Tom Reade dramatically, "thine own ox is gored."

"Talking won't bring back any duds," grunted Harry Hazelton.

"Teall can't have gotten very far with such a load. Let's rush after him."

"You lead the way, then, son," suggested d.i.c.k, "and instead of following you, we'll wait here until you bring the things back."

"I wonder which way he went?" puzzled Hazelton.

"Probably straight to the road," smiled d.i.c.k grimly. "That's the shortest cut, and the road isn't far from here."

"But I can't go near the road in this---this---fix," sputtered Harry, looking down at his wet, glistening skin.

"Exactly," nodded Prescott. "Nor can any of us go. That's the joke. Like it? Ha, ha, ha!"