"Did you ever know me to turn sneak, any of you fellows?" I asked, rather angrily.
"You need not get your back up, Stewart; we only asked you a civil question, and you might give us a civil answer. It's all right, though; I don't believe you'd peach."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Well, I believe you. Now, look here. The governor's birthday is on the twenty-fourth, and we shall have a holiday—a whole holiday, this year, as I happen to know; for I overheard Swain talking about the weather being unusually fine, and the boys having worked very steadily lately; they were to have the whole day to spend at Dinglewell. You've never been to Dinglewell, have you, Stewart?"
"No, but I've heard about it."
"Oh, it's the jolliest place! and we can do pretty much as we like in the woods. There's only one thing they're mean about, and that's the grub. Sandwiches and stale buns I don't relish, especially when I think of the pantry shelves almost cracking with the good things at home; for you must know there's always a grand dinner-party in the evening, and cook begins preparing for it days beforehand. I tell you, Stewart, it's enough to make a fellow's mouth water to see the pies and tarts and custards standing there."
"You're not obliged to look at them, I suppose?"
"Oh, it's not the looking at them I object to, but the not tasting; and I mean to remedy that this year. Are you game for a lark?"
"Just try me, that's all!" I said.
"Charley's good for any lark that don't hurt anybody," said Tom.