"Yes, sir."
"Oh, yes. Well, now, I mustn't hinder you from your work"—old Mr. King turned briskly to his writing again—"or I shall be as bad as Frick—eh, Joel?" and he laughed gayly. "Now trot back and go at your task again."
So Joel, fortified with his pencil, marched back to sit on the floor in the alcove and take up his interrupted work, and Grandpapa's pen went scratching busily over the paper, and nothing else was heard except the buzzing of a big fly outside the window, venting his vexation at his inability to get in.
Meanwhile Frick and the knot of boys had drawn off in astonishment and dismay at the failure of their plan to get Joel Pepper into the delightful expedition.
"What was he doing?" demanded more than one boy.
"I don't know," said Frick; "I couldn't get in."
"Oh, now I know; he's got some secret," said Larry Keep, and he whirled around in vexation and snapped his fingers.
"Maybe it's a flying-machine," suggested another boy.
"Phoo! he couldn't make that in his grandfather's writing-room," said Larry, in derision, yet he looked anxious. Suppose Joel Pepper were really busy over such a splendid thing as that and hadn't told him. "Guess something else."
"I can't think what it is," said Frick, sitting down on the curbstone to become lost in thought—an example to be speedily followed by all the boys, till finally there was a dismal row of them, without a thought remaining of having the expedition on the pond, since Joel Pepper wouldn't come with them.