The High School Boys' Fishing Trip Part 5

As our readers well remember, Dodge and Bayliss had carried their opposition to d.i.c.k & 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 d.i.c.k & 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 d.i.c.k & 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, preparing to leave the others.

"Wait a moment," urged Dave.

"What's the matter?" inquired d.i.c.k, 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.

CHAPTER III

d.i.c.k & CO. DRIVEN UP A TREE

"d.i.c.k!"

"Yes?" replied Prescott, turning and looking back at Tom, whose turn it now was to furnish motive power to the loaded cart.

"How far did you say it was from Gridley to the second lake?"

asked Reade.

"Sixteen miles."

"I've pushed the cart more than that far already," grunted Tom.

"I'm willing to wager that the lake is more than a hundred and twenty miles from Gridley."

"Suppose it is," scoffed Dave, falling back beside the cart "Tom, just think of the fine training your back muscles are getting out of this work!"

"I'll tell you all about that, Darry," grumbled Reade, "when you've had your turn for ten minutes. How much longer does my turn run, d.i.c.k?"

"Five minutes," replied Prescott, after glancing at his watch.

"Are you going to be able to hold out that long?"

"Yes; if I live that long," sighed Tom.

d.i.c.k and Hazelton had each taken their fifteen minute turns at pushing the cart. The boys had already put some distance between themselves and Gridley. d.i.c.k & Co. were tramping down a well-shaded road bounded by prosperous-looking farms. Two miles further on the boys would branch off through a long stretch of woods where the road was rougher. Here two youngsters would be needed for the work, one pushing, while the other hauled on a rope made fast to the front of the cart.

Five of the boys were well laden with miscellaneous packages of food. Tom, on account of pushing the cart, had been permitted to place his load on the already well-packed cart.

"Time's up," called d.i.c.k. "Dave to the bat."

Smiling, Darry packed his own parcels in the cart.

"Whew! But it's good to get away from that thing," grunted Reade, mopping his forehead, as he stalked on ahead.

"Here, you, Tom!" called Danny Grin. "Take your personal pack off the cart and tote it like the rest of us."

Reade turned a comically scowling face to Dalzell.