“Just doing a little shadow-boxing,” he explained, very red in the face. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Practising to clean up on the championship?” asked Frank pleasantly. “Whoever he was, you knocked him right off the map.”
“Say,” said Biff, anxious to change the subject, “I’ve been wanting to see you fellows.”
“Looking for a fight?” asked Joe. “Sorry, but we’ve decided not to do any fighting until after Christmas because Santa Claus mightn’t like it and then he wouldn’t put anything in our stockings. You want to be careful, Biff. If Santa hears you’ve been shadow-boxing out in the main road you mightn’t get any lollipops on Christmas Eve.”
“Aw, dry up,” grumbled Biff. “I’ve been wanting to see you—no kidding.”
“What about?”
“What are you going to do in the Christmas holidays?”
“Don’t know,” replied Frank. “We haven’t made any plans yet. I guess we’ll just hang around town. We’ve got the ice-boat, and there’ll be some skating.”
“How about an outing of some kind? I’ve had that in my mind for the past two or three days. Don’t you think we could all get away somewhere and go camping.”
“Sounds good,” approved Joe. “Where shall we camp?”