CHAPTER VIII
THE MAD BULL
“News from the North Pole!” shouted Dick Hazelton, bounding into the playground, two mornings later.
“What does that mean?” asked Bob.
“Frost.”
“When—where?”
“On the pumpkins! You fellows who live in town don’t get up early enough to see what’s going on these crisp, bright days. Get ready for some new fun, fellows.”
“What’s doing?” asked Frank.
“Nutting.”
“Hurrah!” cheered Sammy.
“Walnuts down in the flats, and hickory nuts over in the North Woods,” said Dick. “See here, Frank, can’t we get the fellows to go Saturday?”