“Swell!” chuckled Cal. “Gee, I wish I could see the Hillsport fellows tomorrow when they catch sight of it!”
“So do I,” said Bob. “Didn’t it show up great? Who’s got a handkerchief he’s not particular about?”
“Wipe your hands on your trousers,” advised Martin coldly.
“What’s the matter with your own handkerchief?” inquired Cal. “You get too much paint on your brush, anyway.”
“Well, you can’t be very careful when you’ve got to hurry,” grumbled Bob. “You can do the next one, seeing you know so blamed much about it! Gosh, the silly stuff is running up my sleeve!”
“I’ve got an old handkerchief you can have,” said Willard.
“Thanks, Brand. You’re the only gentleman in the bunch. Excepting me,” added Bob as Martin laughed.
“Where next?” asked Cal while Bob wiped his hand.
“Let’s paint a good one somewhere near the school,” Martin suggested. “Seems to me there was a brick wall across from where we were waiting for the car that would be just the ticket.”
“Lead me to it,” begged Cal. “This is my turn.”