“I wouldn’t like to do anything like that.”
“It’s a blamed sight better than being pulled over the coals for playing hookey, I tell you. Tell you what, I’ll come round this evening and whistle out back of your house, and you can let me in, same as you did yesterday. Then, if you want me to, and you can find something your governor has written, I’ll fix you up an excuse.”
“You needn’t bother yourself. I shan’t want anything of the kind.”
“All right,” grinned Leon; “just as you say, old man. But don’t give me away, so your dad will report that you were out with me.”
“Don’t be afraid of that.”
Down past Duffy’s Nose they slipped, creeping along the shore toward Nutt’s Wharf, the oars clanking in the rowlocks. Seeing no one in the vicinity of the wharf, they pulled up to the steps and made the dory fast.
“Bring the oars,” directed Leon, as, with the rifle buttoned under his coat, he sprang out and started up the steps.
“Come back and get the oars, if you want them,” came sharply from Don. “I’ve done the rowing, and now you may take care of the old oars, or they’ll stay in the boat.”
Leon came back and took them as Scott passed them out, observing:
“You’re in a jolly good temper! Any one ’d never suspect you’d been playing hookey and having a good time.”