“Grant never even looked at it,” said George. “He’ll make our lives miserable all the rest of the summer.”
“It’s almost over now,” said Fred. “He can’t tease us long.”
In silence the three boys sat and watched their comrade approach. John did not dread the meeting so much, for he had not been one of the original conspirators, but Fred and George looked forward to Grant’s arrival with anything but pleasure.
“What do you think of him?” cried Grant as he held up his prize for his friends to see. “Isn’t he a beauty?”
“He’s all right,” said George weakly.
“What’s the matter, Pop?” demanded Grant. “You don’t seem very enthusiastic. Don’t you like his looks?”
“He’s fine,” replied George in a hollow voice.
“Where did you find him?” demanded Fred bluntly.
“Right where I shot him,” said Grant. “You saw the spot where I picked him up, didn’t you?”
“We saw it all right,” said Fred grimly. “We haven’t a word to say either. You have the joke on us all right, Grant. All I ask is that you don’t rub it in too much.”