"Oh, Curly! Play hooky?" gasped Ruth, clasping her hands.
"Yep. Only you girls haven't any pluck."
"If I played hooky would you let me go fishing with you to-morrow?" asked Ruth, her eyes dancing.
"You haven't the sand," scoffed Curly.
"But can I go if I dare run away?" urged Ruth.
"Yep," said the boy, but with rather a sour grin.
"What time are you going to start?"
"Four."
"If I'm not down in the kitchen by that time, throw some gravel up to the window," commanded Ruth. "But don't break the window."
"Oh, shucks! you won't go when you see how dark and damp it is," declared Curly.