“Now what have you got?” Chips asked him suspiciously.
Babe grinned and produced several crushed cookies and an apple.
“You and your appetite,” Chips muttered, shaking his head. “Why don’t you grow up?”
Babe refused to take offense. “I thought I might get hungry on the way,” he defended himself.
“You’re always hungry,” Chips retorted. “If you’d spend less time feeding your face and more time studying the rule book, maybe you’d be promoted to Wolf Rank.”
“Cut it out, Chips,” advised Brad, who had overheard the remark. “Babe is catching onto Cub ways fast. I’ll wager he’ll be a Wolf before another certain Wolf I know moves on up to Bear rank.”
“Now who’s rubbing it in?” Chips complained. “I’m working hard and you know it!”
“Sure, sure,” Brad said, giving him a friendly clap on the back. “Only maybe you ought to dig in a little harder on those elective requirements before you toss stones at anyone else.”
Despite the lateness of the season, the day was a pleasant one. Selecting Highway 23, the Cubs, led by Brad and Mr. Hatfield, soon set off in the direction of the marsh.
Their way skirted a built-up area near the city limits. A short distance beyond, they passed a sparsely settled section where a few new houses were in process of construction.