As the hours wore on the day grew unbearably hot, unseasonably so, since it was only the month of May. The day seemed excessively long, the lessons dragged, and into the minds of the boys came thoughts of cool green waters and ocean breezes.
“Oh, for Ocean Point once more!” ejaculated Joe, as at the close of the school day he wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “Say, fellows, how would it be just now to slip on our bathing suits, run down to the surf and plunge into the breakers? Oh, me, oh, my!”
“What’s the use of tantalizing a fellow?” grumbled Herb. “It’ll be at least a month or six weeks before we can get to the beach.”
“Let’s hope this weather doesn’t keep up,” remarked Bob. “But what’s the use of waiting for Ocean Point? If we can’t get the whole loaf, let’s take a slice. What do you say to taking a dip in the swimming hole down on the old Shagary? It’ll cool us off anyway, and that’s something on a day like this.”
“Just what the doctor ordered,” declared Jimmy, and his comrades murmured their approval.
It was the work of only a few minutes to reach their homes, leave their books, get their swimming trunks and towels and make for the banks of the Shagary. It was only a small stream, but the water was clear and in several places deep enough to afford excellent sport. There was one spot especially that was in high favor with the boys, because there the stream widened out so that there was some fun in racing from bank to bank. It bore the designation of the “swimming hole,” and it was there that the boys proceeded.
A hundred yards away, Bob started on a sprint.
“The last one in is a Chinaman,” he cried.
All sought to avoid having that name tacked on to him, and Herb and Joe gave Bob a genuine race, arriving with him at the river bank almost neck and neck. Jimmy was handicapped by his weight and shorter legs, and by the time he got there they had already removed some of their clothes.
“I ought to have had a twenty-yard start,” he grumbled, as he fumbled with his buttons.