“They ought to clap the whole outfit in jail,” sputtered Tubby, “and give them nothing to eat but bread and water.”
“The last part of that remark would be a fearful punishment to Tubby, all right,” chuckled Merritt, nudging Rob.
“What a lucky chap Fred Mainwaring is,” said Rob presently. “Just think, when his father goes back to Panama he’s to go, too. His dad says that every American boy who can ought to see the Big Ditch before the water is in it, and that, even if Fred does miss some schooling, he will be getting some education that can’t be obtained from books.”
“That’s the sort I’d like,” sighed Tubby, who was a notoriously unwilling worshipper at the shrine of knowledge.
“How about a cook book?” chuckled Merritt mischievously, and then dodged aside just in time to avoid a blow from Tubby’s chubby fist.
Suddenly, behind them came the sound of wheels and the staccato rattle of a horse’s hoofs tapping the road at a rapid trot.
“Out of the road, fellows, here comes a rig,” cried Rob.
So fast was it coming that they had hardly time to step aside before the buggy, which held two occupants, was beside them. The driver pulled the horse up almost on its haunches and hailed them as they stood in the dark shadow of some big maples at the side of the road.
“Hey, you fellows! Got the time? We’ve got to make that seven-thirty train out of Hampton and my watch is broken.”
Rob, and his companions, too, recognized the voice instantly.