“But, really, Dick,” Tom protested, with mock severity, “don’t you realize that duty——”
“Get out before I put you out,” roared Dick, making a dash for Tom, who promptly disappeared through the door.
“Since you insist,” laughed the fugitive through the keyhole, “meet me on the campus in half an hour.”
“We’ll be there with bells on,” said Bert and Dick with one voice, and at once began their preparations for the trip.
As Dick put the calculus back on the shelf, he said, half apologetically, “I’ll see you to-night, old fellow.”
Half an hour later, the trio were swinging rapidly down the road, carrying their fishing poles and tackle. This was an outing that they had planned for early in the season, but up to this time they had had no opportunity to carry it out. Nearly every Saturday they had had extra baseball practice, or something unexpected had come up, but now at last they had their chance and were only too anxious to take advantage of it. Besides them was Pete.
Old Pete was a huge pickerel who was sly and wary beyond the general run of fishes. Many a confident angler had come to the lake, absolutely certain of his ability to land the big fellow, only to return, sheepish and crestfallen, to acknowledge his defeat.
So it was no wonder that our fellows were excited at the prospect of a game of hide-and-seek with the biggest and most cunning of the pickerel family.
“Just think,” Bert was saying, “what it will mean if we land him. Almost all the other fellows in college have tried it without success, and if we could manage to bring back Old Pete we would be popular heroes.”