"Monday morning early," laughed Dave. "And this is late Saturday afternoon."
Dan Dalzell was not in his usually jovial spirits. His heart was as much set on going as was Dick's, but Dan now felt that the pleasure jaunt was simply impossible.
"Let's meet on Main Street after supper," Dick proposed. "Perhaps by that time we'll have found an idea or two."
"If we can find a pocketbook or two lying in the Main Street gutter, that will be something more practical than finding ideas," Tom replied with a doleful shake of his head. "But perhaps we'll really find the pocketbooks. Such things are told of in story books, anyway, you know."
"If we find any pocketbooks," smiled Dick, "our first concern after that will be to find the owners of them. So that stunt wouldn't do us much good, even if it happened."
Then the boys separated and went to their respective homes for supper. But Dick Prescott did not eat as much as usual. He was too preoccupied. He knew to a penny the amount that was in the treasury of their little canoe club, for Mr. Prescott was holding the money subject to his son's call. Certainly the money in the treasury wouldn't bring about a vacation at Lake Pleasant.
Just as soon as the meal was over Dick went out, strolling back to Main Street.
"'Lo, Dick!"
Prescott turned to recognize and nod to a barefooted boy, rather frayed as to attire. Mart Heckler had been two classes below him when Prescott had attended Central Grammar School. Now Mart was waiting for the fall to enter the last grade at Central, which was also to be his last year at school. Mart's parents were poor, and this lad, in another year, must join the army of toilers.
"You must be having a lot of fun this vacation, Dick," remarked
Mart rather wistfully. "Lot of fun in that war canoe, isn't there?"