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The High School Boys' Canoe Club, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 15. At The Greatest Of Feasts |
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_ CHAPTER XV. AT THE GREATEST OF FEASTS It proved a glorious affair, that picnic by the edge of the lake. Tom and Dan took Clara and Susie out in the canoe to watch them as they fished. The other four boys fell to with a will, reweaving in new guy ropes and erecting the tent again. Then firewood was gathered in armfuls and several campfires started. Just before dark the canoe came in with a cargo of nearly four dozen fish. These Tom and Dan took to one side and quickly cleaned. Just as Dick and Dave were beginning to realize with some embarrassment that they had nowhere near enough dishes for such an affair, the man from the launch appeared with two baskets of dishes. He then brought up three folding tables and proceeded to set them up, next bringing on campstools. Dr. Bentley had overlooked nothing. Last of all paper lanterns were strung from the trees, and just at dark these were lighted. Potatoes were set to boil in a kettle. Embers were raked down and corn still in the husks was set in the embers and covered up to roast. Some of the girls sliced more tomatoes than the whole party could eat. Cucumbers, too, were prepared. Fish were broiled on grates over the fires. All was ready just before dark. Dick gave the launch man a hearty invitation to join them at supper, the latter shaking his head, expressed his thanks and hurried away. What an appetizing meal it was! Nothing seemed to have gone wrong. It was a merry party indeed that sat down around the tables. Suddenly there came an interruption. "Camp! Oh, I say---camp!" called a gruff voice from the road. "Here!" called Dick, rising from the table. "Who is it?" "Any girls there?" demanded the same voice. "Several," Dick acknowledged. "Having a picnic, are you?" demanded the strange voice. "The best ever!" Dick replied heartily. "Lots of fresh vegetables, too, eh?" "Ye-es," Dick assented slowly, and with a peculiar feeling. He recalled the laughing talk of the girls about "stealing," and now wondered what was about to happen. "I guess they're the girls I want, then," continued the voice of the unseen speaker. Dick & Co. felt a swift spasm of uneasiness, for that voice sounded as though it might belong to the law. A moment later a roughly dressed man moved down into the circle. "My name is Dobson," said the new comer, looking hard at the girls. "I reckon you were in my truck garden this afternoon, weren't you?" "Why---er----ye-es," admitted Laura, the first to find her voice. She rose and faced Mr. Dobson with a look of budding uneasiness. "Took lot of my vegetables, didn't you?" pressed the farmer. "Ye-es," faltered Laura, "but-----" "Excuse me, miss, but there aren't many kinds of 'buts' about a transaction of that kind," insisted the farmer. Here, Dr. Bentley, who had looked less concerned than anyone else present, broke in: "Your name is Dobson?" he asked. "Not Gibson, then?" pressed the doctor. "Course my name isn't Gibson, if it's Dobson," retorted the farmer. "There is a man named Gibson who lives 'bout a quarter of a mile from my place." "Then I imagine I shall have to take you one side and have a little conversation with you," smiled the doctor, rising. "Will you follow me?" The farmer nodded without speaking and the two men walked away. Ten minutes later Dr. Bentley returned to the young people. "I appeased the farmer's wrath," he announced, with a laugh. "And now, young ladies, if my judgment is worth anything, I think it is about time to let the cat out of the bag." Eight high school girls flushed and looked rather confused. "Why, has anything wrong been going on?" inquired Mrs. Bentley anxiously, while Mrs. Meade waited breathlessly for the reply. "Nothing extremely wrong," replied Dr. Bentley. "I will explain what happened. Some of these young ladies, having heard that boys occasionally rob orchards or gardens for a feast, laughingly promised the young hosts of this evening that they would steal the necessary vegetables for to-night's supper. Now, while some boys may sometimes do such things, it is needless to add that no boy with a good home and a mother's training is likely to become engaged in such petty pilfering. I don't believe the boys for a moment credited the girls with any real stealing." "We didn't," spoke up Dick promptly. "We knew there was a string to the joke somewhere." "These young ladies consulted me," went on Dr. Bentley. "Of course they wanted the whole matter kept very quiet, and they made me promise secrecy. I told them that I didn't like their plan at all, but they coaxed, and I will admit that I yielded to their coaxing very much against my best judgment. They wanted to be able to say that they hadn't paid the farmer, or made any arrangement whatever with him. That much is true. They didn't approach the farmer---they sent me. I went to Farmer Gibson and made the arrangement with him for the supplies, paying him in advance a fair price for whatever the young ladies would take out of his garden. Yet, in spite of my care in the matter, and my very explicit directions to them, it seems that they went astray, and descended upon the truck garden of Mr. Dobson, instead of that of Mr. Gibson. Mr. Dobson, not having received any pay, very naturally objected to being looted of his vegetables while Mr. Gibson received the money. But I have been able to explain matters in a satisfactory manner to Mr. Dobson, and have sent him on his ways" Eight very crestfallen high school girls listened to this recital. The boys, had they not felt a manly sympathy for their discomfited friends, would have laughed outright. "I am glad that it is no worse," said Mrs. Bentley in a relieved voice. "At the same time, it was a very silly performance." "It was," nodded the doctor, who turned to the girls to add: "My dears, as you succeeded this time in making me your very reluctant accomplice, I am in no position to say very much to you. But I trust you all realize the situation and its outcome, and that you will never allow yourselves to be made ridiculous again in any such way." "I don't believe we shall," Laura replied. "We felt ashamed of ourselves afterwards, but we were silly enough to feel because we had pledged ourselves to forage for fruit and vegetables that the joke must be carried out." "Tom Reade," snapped Susie Sharp, "you are just bursting with laughter that you can hardly hold back." "Not I!" Tom denied promptly. "I am congratulating myself that we boys had sense enough not to take seriously your claim that you had been robbing anyone's garden. As it happened, you did that very thing, but you didn't know it, and you didn't mean to." There was an embarrassed silence. Then Dick proposed: "Let's have a good-natured laugh all around and forget the whole thing." That relieved the awkwardness of the situation. After that a watermelon was cut and brought to the tables. "Gridley, ahoy!" called a voice across the dark waters. "Who's there?" called Dick. "Preston High School Canoe Club. May we visit your camp?" "Shall I invite them over?" asked Dick, looking at Mrs. Bentley and then at the girls. Receiving their consent, he called out: "Come in, Preston High School! Welcome!" A soft splashing of paddles showed where the visitors were coming in to shore. Dan Dalzell taking the camp lantern, ran to meet them. A moment later six Preston lads were stepping ashore, one after the other. Dick, having excused himself at table, came forward also to greet them. Two of the Preston High School boys were already acquainted with Laura Bentley and some of her friends. Introductions followed rapidly. "Drop into the Gridley seats and have some of the watermelon," Dick pressed the visitors, he and his chums standing in order to do the honors of the occasion. "It looks as though we had been trying to invite ourselves to a banquet," laughed Hartwell, "big chief" of the Preston High School "Indians." "We didn't mean to seem as rude as that, Prescott." "All I know," smiled Dick cordially, "is that you are all heartily welcome. Can we stir up a fire and broil some fish?" "Don't think of it, thank you," begged Hartwell. "We've had our suppers---dinners, the hotel folks insist on calling 'em. It's jolly enough for us to be allowed to join you and see the watermelon passing around." "Chug! chug! Puff! puff!" sounded the returning launch. Dick glanced apprehensively at Dr. Bentley and the ladies. Did the coming of the launch mean that it was about time for the pleasant evening to break up? "Might I ask where and how you find such delicious watermelons in this neck of the woods?" inquired Brown, of the Prestons. "Ask the young ladies," piped up Danny Grin, thereby getting himself much disliked for at least the next thirty seconds. "Dr. Bentley and the young ladies obtained the melons from a farmer," explained Tom Reade, giving Dan an unseen poke in the small of the back. "These melons look good enough to steal," laughed Hartwell, and was unable to understand the total silence that greeted his assertion. "Help wanted from a couple of you boys!" called the voice of the launch man. Four of Dick & Co. raced down to the water's edge. They came back, staggering under a big bucket covered on the top with bagging. "What is this?" asked Dick. "Ice cream," explained the doctor. "Mrs. Bentley's suggestion." "We fellows of Preston High School feel ashamed of ourselves for having intruded," exclaimed Hartwell. "May we be permitted to withdraw?" "At any time after ten o'clock," smiled Mrs. Bentley graciously. "We shall be very much disappointed if you leave us at present." There was a clatter of dishes and spoons. Mrs. Bentley and Mrs. Meade presided over this part of the camp feast. "We needn't ask you Gridley fellows if you've been having a good time," declared Hartwell presently. "But we hadn't any idea that we should intrude on an affair of this sort. In fact, while business must be barred now, I will admit that business was the object of our call." "What sort of business?" inquired Dick Prescott. "We came to challenge you fellows to a race," explained Big Chief Hartwell. "A race?" chuckled Dave. "Queer how you've bit us where we live!" "Do you think you can beat us in a canoe race?" asked Hartwell. "Yes," Dick rejoined. "All we need to arrange is the date. We'll beat you on any date that you name! That isn't brag, please understand! It's merely the old, old Gridley High School way." The young ladies applauded this sentiment merrily. _ |