“Shadow can tell stories while we put away the lunch,” observed Roger Morr, with a grin.
“Not much!” cried the lad mentioned. “I guess that skate will make me as hungry as anybody—and the stories will keep.”
“I thought Ben Basswood was going, too?” came from another of the schoolboys.
“Here he comes, Lazy,” answered Dave, and as he spoke he pointed to a path across the snow-covered campus, along which another boy was hurrying, skates in hand.
“Co-couldn’t get here an-any so-sooner!” panted Ben, as he dropped on a bench to adjust his skates. “Old Haskers made me do some extra work in Latin! Wow, but don’t I love that man!”
“We all do,” answered Phil. “We are going to get up a testimonial to him. A silver-mounted——”
“Slice of punk, with an ancient lemon on top,” finished Dave. “It’s just what he’s been waiting for.” And at this sally there was a general laugh.
“Well, I’m ready,” went on Phil, as he arose from the bench. “Say, but isn’t it just a glorious day for the outing?” he added, casting his eyes around and drawing in a deep breath of the pure, cold air.
“It couldn’t be better, Phil,” answered Dave. “And we ought to have a fine time at the island, bringing down rabbits and squirrels. Old Jerry Lusk told me that hunting was never better.”
“What’s the matter with having some of the rabbits and squirrels for lunch?” asked Sam Day.