“At what?” Harry demanded.
“Killing bears. We won’t have any left on the island if you don’t stop him, Harry.”
“You’re very silly,” said Harry.
“Oh, very well,” was the response. “I’m not going to stay here and be insulted. Me for the water.” With a glance of contempt our hero turned upon his heel and strode haughtily away.
Chub tried turning on his heel, but as there was a root in the way he made rather a failure of it. But he had better success with the rest of the performance, for the look of haughtiness which he assumed sent the others into howls of laughter. Dick and Roy followed him into the tent and Harry and Snip wandered away along Inner Beach in search of blueberries. Presently there was a chorus of yells that sent the hair along the middle of Snip’s back pointing upward like the quills of the fretful porcupine and the three boys came tearing along the beach in their bathing-suits. As they came abreast of Harry and Snip Chub shouted:
“Last one in is a fool!”
There was a mighty thrashing of the water as the trio floundered through the first few yards and then three splashes almost simultaneous followed. In a moment they were all up, laughing and gasping, and calling to Harry to settle the question of who the fool was.
“Why,” said Harry, “you all went in at the same time, so you’re all three fools!”
“No sooner said than stung,” cried Chub. “Harry, if you’ll come nearer I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Yes, and throw water on me,” answered Harry shrewdly. “No thanks; I’m very comfortable where I am.”