“Not for a minute! Baseball for mine! When I want to wallow in the mud and get my mouth and ears full of it, I know an easier way than playing football.”
“Yes; go out with a camera and get stuck in the swamp!” cried Tom, and he got up, ready to dodge any missile which Sid might heave at him in revenge for having his misadventure recalled. But the naturalist only answered:
“That’s all right. I got the best picture of a fox you ever saw. The mud will come off.”
“Oh, you’re a hopeless case!” exclaimed Phil as he got up and began to change his clothes, laying out a particularly “sporty” necktie.
“Hello!” exclaimed Tom in some surprise. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” replied his chum noncommittally.
“I thought you were told to stay in and take it easy to-night,” said Sid.
“Well, I’m not going to any exciting place,” came from Phil as he struggled with a stiff collar. “I’ll be in early.”
“Going to town?” asked Tom.