"I had almost forgotten about those parties," Tom rejoined. "Not hearing from Hibbert, as I take it, means that that generous young friend of ours has broken off communication with the Eagle Hotel in Gridley. But I can't understand why the agency hasn't communicated with us in some way."
Dinner was eaten in quicker time than usual. Dick and Dave, perhaps some of the others, felt a secret desire to slip over to the other camp, but no one mentioned any such wish. Instead, the dinner dishes were washed, the cooking utensils cleaned, and the camp put in a very good semblance of order.
"In forty-five minutes more," remarked Prescott, glancing at his watch, "we must be back at training work."
"Not to-day," replied Tom.
"What's the matter?" demanded Dick, looking sharply at him.
"In forty-five minutes more," exclaimed Reade, "we'll be sitting inside the tent, looking out at the weather."
"What are you talking about, Tom?" asked Darry.
"Read your answer in the skies," retorted Reade.
Though none of the other five boys had noticed it, the sky had been gradually clouding. The wind was becoming brisker, too, and there was more than the usual amount of moisture in the air.
"Pshaw! That's a shame," muttered Dick.