Fatty ate it all.
Strengthened and refreshed and flushed with triumph, he looked at the empty board, strapped his knapsack on his back and, rather oppressed by the silence, started through the opening.
Then did Henry Bascom, familiarly known to his intimates as Fatty, receive a shock. The narrow opening which had admitted him refused to give him up! It had cost three buttons to come in. It would have cost a goodly slice of Fatty to get out. Sandwiches, cream puffs, pickles, jelly roll and nut cake made a difference, a fatal difference.
Fatty was a prisoner!
CHAPTER VI
The boys, talking busily with Ernest, had nearly reached camp before they discovered Fatty’s absence. Skinny, true friend that he was, turned and would have gone back to find him, but Ernest would not let him.
“Leave him alone,” he said. “I have a hunch that we will not see our dear Fatty again until well after lunch time. And then he will toddle into our midst with a heavenly smile on his face and a perfectly empty pack on his back. I think work around the hangars would be good for friend Fatty, and I could take him on a few flights that would put the fear of the Lord in his heart and make him think of something besides his meals. Speaking of flying, I can take you up for a flight this afternoon if you want to go.”
“You bet we do!” said Bill. “I reckon we got off this time without any of our mothers thinking to make us promise not to fly.”
“Mrs. Bascom made Fatty promise not to fly,” said Skinny. “It was the last thing she said when we came away.”