“Oh, gee whiz, Steve!” interrupted Cavanaugh impatiently. “Don’t try to make excuses for the nut. He just naturally can’t tell the truth. Who’s coming for a walk? I’m tired of sitting here.”
They all arose briskly, even Ritter bestirring himself. Walking was no particular pleasure to him, but he rarely declined an invitation from Jim Cavanaugh.
“We may as well stroll around by the bulletin board and see if Midge got things straight,” remarked Hinckley as they moved away.
“Nothing to it!” declared Cavanaugh decidedly. “I haven’t seen the beastly thing, and I’m not going to know anything about it till I have to. At least we can get one more decent swim before the lid’s clamped on.”
“You mean you’d go in anyhow?” asked McBride interestedly.
“Why not? There hasn’t been any official announcement. Willett’s no town crier that we should take everything he says as gospel. If we should happen to go over on the sound side at three-thirty and went in there as usual, they couldn’t very well call us down.”
“We’re supposed to undress in the tents and wait for the whistle,” remarked Champ Ferris doubtfully. “They’ll think it’s sort of funny if—”
“Oh, well, if you’re looking for trouble you’ll find it,” cut in Cavvy shortly. “You don’t have to come, you know. But if we hang around here much longer some other busybody is sure to come along and tell us about the notice. I’m going to start.”
CHAPTER II
FORBIDDEN FRUIT
He led the way around the back of the tent, which was the last one in the row, and struck into a clump of cedars bordering the clearing. The others followed closely; Cavvy was somehow the sort others generally did follow. Steve Haddon, bringing up the rear, found himself thinking about this, and for the first time in their brief acquaintance he was a little troubled.