"Hold up, Dave!" Prescott advised. "You started it, you know. You will have to show that a joke is just as funny whether it's going or coming."
"That's right, old chap," agreed Dave, halting and beginning to cool. "Greg, come here and shake hands."
"You shake hands with Tom," Holmes retorted suspiciously. "I appoint Tom my substitute, with full powers."
"I'd sooner fight Tom than you," mused Dave, gazing down at Reade, who did not appear to be very much disturbed. "Tom is the fellow who's always bringing his appetite along on the finest days that heaven has sent us."
Dick Prescott lazily drew out his watch and glanced at it. Then he rose, remarking:
"You may stay here and get all the comfort you can out of nature, Dave. But it's half past five and I guess the rest of us will want to be nearer to the source of kitchen odors."
"Whew! If it's any such time as that I'm going to move fast," cried Harry Hazelton, leaping to his feet. "At our house supper is on at six o'clock, and anyone who gets in late has to take what's left."
"Are your folks so poor as that?" laughed Tom.
"Hardly," returned Harry. "But both dad and mother are sticklers for everyone being in his seat on time."
By this time five of the chums had started across the broad, sunny field toward the rather dusty road.