“Bully for you, Hugh!” exclaimed Bud Morgan, beaming happily on his two comrades.
“I just knew I could depend on you to help me tide over this trouble, Hugh,” said Blake, grasping the other’s hand, and squeezing it warmly. “Now that we’ve got all that fixed, let’s make the necessary arrangements as soon as we can; time counts in a game like this; and, besides, I’ve got certain reasons for fearing there may be interruptions.”
He did not choose to enter into any explanation for these rather strange words, seeing which Hugh presently went on to say:
“I’ll get in touch with Alec Sands, the leader of the Otters, and tell him that he must take charge of things for some days while I’m away. Alec can see about the hike tomorrow; making camp up there near the Pastor farm; and even starting in at the hay-cutting if we’re not back in time. Fortunately, Alec knows considerable along the line of farm work; and then, too, old Mr. Pastor can coach the boys.”
“But, Hugh, please don’t drop a hint about why you’ve got to go over to the big camp,” pleaded Blake. “You see, it might happen to get to the ears of Uncle Reuben, and offend him. That’s got to be a dead secret between the three of us until I can put a letter from Felix in his guardian’s hand, and know the old gentleman’s really forgiven him for his hasty words.”
“We’ll both shake hands with you on that, Blake,” said Hugh, wishing to make sure that Bud would be willing to take the same vow of secrecy on himself.
When this operation had been completed, Blake appeared to be much relieved.
“How long do you expect it will take you to see Alec, and arrange other things, Hugh?” he asked.
“Oh!” the patrol leader immediately replied, “so far as that goes, I believe an hour ought to cover everything, such as telling my folks at home, and getting Alec to take charge. How about you two?”
“I can do it in far less time,” admitted Blake.