Whistling gaily to himself, Shep Reed hurried down to the lake front. As he came out on one of the docks he caught sight of Snap, surrounded by half a dozen other lads, all carrying various bundles, and all equipped with guns and fishing-rods.
"Ham Spink and his cronies," murmured the doctor's son to himself.
"Wonder where they are bound?"
"Oh, we are going to have the outing of our lives this trip," Ham Spink was declaring in his usual lordly fashion. "It's going to be the finest outing ever started from this town."
"Where are you going?" asked Snap curiously.
"Do you suppose we are going to tell you?" demanded another boy, a lad named Carl Dudder. "Not much! We don't want you to come sneaking after us, to shoot the game that we stir up."
"We never sneaked after you," cried Snap rather indignantly. "And we have always been able to stir up our own game."
"Bah! I know better."
"Of course they have taken our game—-more than once," came from Ham Spink. "And if they don't shoot our game they scare it off, so that we don't have a chance to bring it down."
"What you say, Ham Spink, is absolutely untrue, and you know it," put in Shep, brushing through the crowd. "We have never in our lives touched any game that was coming to you or your crowd. We——-"
"Say, do you want to fight?" cried Ham Spink, working himself up into a quick passion; and he doubled up his fists as he spoke.