Whatever irritation he felt, however, was soon dissipated when he joined his companions, who were sporting about in the cool water. It was their first swim of the season and they enjoyed it beyond measure, diving, swimming, floating and racing until a look at the western sun told them that it was time to think about getting home.
By this time, Jimmy’s clothes were fairly dry, although they stood sadly in need of pressing. They all dressed quickly and started for the town.
Their road led for part of the way along the river bank, and they had proceeded perhaps an eighth of a mile when they heard cries of protest coming from the river mingled with mocking laughter.
At this point the road curved a little and was bordered with bushes. Joe peered through the bushes and then beckoned to his companions.
“It’s Buck Looker and his gang up to one of their usual tricks,” he whispered.
They looked and saw Buck, with Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney, sitting on the grass a little way from the river. They were laughing boisterously, as though at some huge joke.
At their feet were two suits of clothes, and in the river with the water up to their waists were standing two boys who seemed to be about ten or eleven years old. They were evidently the owners of the clothes in question and were begging Buck and his cronies to give them up.
“I told you you could have them,” Buck was saying. “All you have to do is to come and get them. But the minute you step foot on the bank, I’ll throw your shoes into the water.”
Between the offer and the threat, the small boys were in a dilemma. It was evident that they had been in the water a long time, for they were shivering and their teeth were chattering. They wanted their clothes badly, but they did not want to lose their shoes. So they stood there half whimpering with rage and cold.
The quandary in which Buck had placed his small victims seemed the very essence of humor to him and his cronies, who roared with laughter and slapped each other on the back.