"No you don't," declared Bobby, seizing Fred's hand. "We're going to get out while we have the chance. I only tripped him and got the dog out of the way so you could escape."
"Huh!" exclaimed Fred. "I didn't get as many apples as I wanted."
"I don't care. You come on," said his chum.
"Whoever heard of the winning side giving way like this?" grumbled the red-haired boy. "Anyway," he added, picking up the club Bobby had lost, "if that dog comes after us, I'll hit him."
Bobby picked up the box containing the remainder of their luncheon, and led the way through the bushes. The dog had come ashore, and it and Ap Plunkit were quickly out of sight. Fred was still grumbling about leaving the foe to claim "the best of it."
"He'll pitch on us next time, just the same," he declared. "Why didn't you punch him when you had him down, Bob?"
"Aw, come on!" said his chum. "Always wanting to get into a fight. You keep that up when you get to Rockledge School, and you'll be in hot water all the time."
"Shucks!" grinned Fred. "I'd like to be in cold water right now. The swimming hole isn't far away. Let's."
"We can't go in but once—you know we can't," said Bobby.
"Why not?" demanded Fred, quickly.