“Yes; I have no very particular engagements to keep me. I’ll be glad of a change—was getting kind of rusty.”
“I declare, I most forgot poor young Confuse-us,” remarked Jack. “He must be a bit hungry by this time. Who wants to go over to the boat?”
“Guess I will,” answered Fred, closing the book.
“I’m with you,” put in Joe.
Then the others decided to join.
So off they started, in lively spirits again, for Joe declared that he now felt no worse than if he had just come out of an ordinary football scrimmage.
“Fellows,” said Aleck, suddenly, “I never finished that story I was going to tell you. Listen—it’s a bully one.”
“Get it off your mind—do,” snickered Joe.
“I’m going to. Well, it’s about Joe Archer, who played short-stop on our team. He was down on Battery Park the other day, when——”
“Thunderation!” broke in Bob, suddenly. “Look at that, fellows!”