Shortly before nine o’clock, as they were sitting on an old log in front of the camp, they heard the creaking of Hubbard’s wagon, and directly the constable appeared with the conveyance.
“Mornin’, boys,” he saluted. “What luck?”
“Nothing but bad luck,” answered Hooker. “Some other chaps spoiled our shooting for us, and we didn’t get as much as a feather.”
“Sho! Now that’s too bad. I cal’late I seen them other chaps. Met ’em on the road almost to town. They was Jack Nelson and Billy Piper, and they had some birds. Seemed to feel purty nifty and chipper, too, for they laughed when they spied me. Told me I’d better get a stouter wagon to haul in my load, but I didn’t know just what they meant.”
“Those chaps have a perverted sense of humor,” rasped Roy. “They’ll get it taken out of them some day. Come on, Fred, let’s throw our dunnage aboard and set sail. I’m anxious to get home to rest up before that game this afternoon.”
CHAPTER XIII.
THE TARDY QUARTERBACK.
The members of the Oakdale football team were gathering at the gymnasium to dress and prepare for the game. Singly and in groups they came hurrying in to open their lockers and drag forth suits, cleated shoes, shin guards, head pieces, nose protectors and other paraphernalia. Some were in high spirits, while others, as if impressed by the importance of the approaching contest, appeared somewhat serious and grim. Chipper Cooper, always volatile and lively, persisted in perpetrating some very bad puns, being finally given a call-down by Sile Crane, who was wearing an almost funereal face.
“Oh, cut it aout,” remonstrated Sile. “Yeou’ll make us all sick with yeour senseless slop. If yeou’ve got an idee it’s goin’ to be any picnic trouncin’ them Barville fellers this arternoon, yeou’re away off yeour base.”
Chipper’s retort was particularly atrocious. “I would not debase myself by such a thought,” he said.
Harry Hopper let fly a shoe, which Cooper deftly dodged. “You’ll be murdered some day if you don’t quit it,” declared Harry.