Thus it happened that Jim McGovern and Billy Waylett, after sauntering to the crossroads, which had been named as the rendezvous, and waiting until the rest of the pupils appeared, found themselves without their leader.
But they were not compelled to wait long, when the lad, who was older than they, was seen hurrying along the highway, eager to meet and explain to them the momentous business that had led him to call this special meeting.
“Fellers,” said he, as he came panting up, “let’s climb over the fence and go among the trees.”
“What for?” asked Billy Waylett.
“It won’t do for anybody to hear us.”
“Well, they won’t hear us,” observed Jim McGovern, “if we stay here, for we can see any one a half mile off.”
“But they might sneak up when we wasn’t watching,” insisted the ringleader, who proceeded to scale the fence in the approved style of boyhood, the others following him.
Tom led the way for some distance among the trees, and then, when he came to a halt, peered among the branches overhead, and between and behind the trunks, to make sure no cowens were in the neighborhood.
Finally, everything was found to be as he wished, and he broke the important tidings in guarded undertones.
“I say, boys, are you both going to stick?”