“Well, I wish now we hadn’t done it,” said Tom.
“Why?”
“Because Dave will be so savage. Next time we go over to his place he’ll send us back, and then there’ll be no more fun at the duck ’coy, and no netting and shooting.”
“Oh, I say, Tom, what a fellow you are! Now is Dave Gittan the man to look sour at anybody who takes him half a pound of powder? Why, he’ll smile till his mouth’s open and his eyes shut, and take us anywhere.”
“Well, half a pound of powder will make a difference,” said Tom thoughtfully.
“I’ll take him a pound,” said Dick magnificently.
“How are you going to get it?”
“How am I going to get it!” said Dick. “Why, let Sam Farles bring it from Spalding; and I tell you what, I won’t give him the pound. I’ll give him half a pound, and you shall give him the other.”
“Ah!” cried Tom eagerly; “and I tell you what, Dick—you know that old lead?”
“What! that they dug up when they made the new cow-house?”