“Well, now for a good snooze!” exclaimed Tom, as they got back to their tent that night, having spent a pleasant evening with the Prudens.
“Did you bring any mosquito netting?” asked Phil. “If you didn’t I——”
“Silence!” warned Frank. “A certain amount of mosquito bites will do us good—put ginger into us for the rowing game.”
“All right—all right!” cried Phil, quickly. “I didn’t mean that,” and he looked quickly at Tom, fearing a return of the morning outbreak.
“When are the girls coming?” asked Sid, as he began to get ready to turn in.
“What do you care?” asked Tom, quickly. “Didn’t I see you trying to hold the hand of that youngest Miss Pruden under the table?”
“Oh, fie!” cried Frank.
“I was not!” cried Sid, indignantly. “She had lent me her ring, and it was so small I couldn’t easily get it off again. She was trying to help me.”
“Say, when you tell ’em, tell ’em good and big!” laughed Tom. “‘When are the girls coming?’ Say, you’re a nice one, you are, and——”
Tom ducked in time to avoid the shoe Sid threw at him.