"Scubbity-yow!" cried the ever enthusiastic Fred. "That'll be great. I'll go with you, and we'll hide in the jungle, and catch a native and make him show us the way to the village where the captives are held.
"Crickey, Bobby! you'd make out you were a magician, and you'd have a storage battery, and things, and you'd show them blackies more magic than they ever saw before, and they'll kill their old medicine man and make you chief of the tribe.
"And then we can get into the temple where your folks are held prisoners, and release them. We'll all get out through the secret passage and take enough gold and precious stones with us to load a donkey, and come home as rich as mud! Say! it's a great idea."
"Well! what do you think of that?" was Bobby's comment. "You must have been reading some of Sparrow's story-papers."
"Huh! they're jolly good stories."
"Wait till the Old Doctor catches him at it," said Bobby. "Those are just foolish stories. Nothing ever really happens like it says in those stories."
"Aw—well," said Fred, grinning, "it would be great if they did happen, wouldn't it?"
Lessons began right after New Year again, and it seemed harder than ever to buckle down to them because of the fun that week between Christmas and the first of the year.
"Wish it would be vacation all the time," grumbled Pee Wee, who had spent several days in bed because of the way he had abused his stomach.
"Goodness, Pee Wee!" exclaimed Bobby. "If every day was a holiday, you'd be sick all the time."