But he did not get very far on this extended journey, for the surf was so high that day that the boys were content to spend their time diving into the big combers and letting themselves be carried shoreward by the big waves. After they had had enough of this, they went up on the beach and played ball with a cork surf ball that Bob had brought with him.
“This beats digging away in school, by a long sight,” said Jimmy. “Next winter when we’re working away like real good boys, we can think of this and wish we were back here.”
“Not on your life!” said Joe. “This place is very nifty now, but there’s nothing more cold looking than a beach in winter.”
“Oh, well, you know what I mean, you big prune,” said Jimmy. “We’ll wish it were summer and we were back here. It’s just as easy to wish for two things as it is for one.”
“Who’s a big prune?” demanded Joe. “Did you hear that insult, Bob? What shall I do to him?”
“Make him lie down in the sand and roll over,” replied Bob, grinning. “You can’t let him call you a prune, even if you are one.”
“That’s what I’ll make him do,” said Joe, ignoring this last thrust, and he went after Jimmy.
But that individual did not wait his coming, but meekly lay down on the sand and rolled over in most approved fashion.
“Want me to do it again?” he asked Joe. “Anything to make you happy, you know.”
“Once is enough,” said Joe. “That means that you’re sorry and apologize, you know.”