Reuben Hinman was on his way, and, all unknown to himself nearer the hour when he would meet the high, school boys under vastly more exciting circumstances.

CHAPTER VI

THE NO-BREAKFAST PLAN

“Let’s get the tent down, fellows,” Dick called.  “Greg is loading the bedding on to the wagon now.”

“Haven’t, you forgotten something?” Danny Grin asked.

“What?” challenged Dick smilingly.

“Well, a little thing like breakfast, for instance?”

“We don’t get that until after we’ve had our swim,” Prescott rejoined cheerily.

“I suppose that’s all right,” observed Tom, his jaw dropping.  “Still, in that case, Mr. Trainer, why didn’t you camp nearer to a stream?”

“The nearest stream fit for swimming is two miles from here,” Dick replied.  “At least, that’s what I judge from the map.”

“There’s the creek the bull-heads came from,” suggested Hazelton hopefully.  “That’s close at hand.”

“I know it is,” Dick replied, “but I’ve had a look at it.  That creek is both shallow and muddy.  No sort of place for swimming.”

One thing these Gridley High School boys had learned in the football squad, and that was discipline.  So, though there were some gloomy looks, all remembered that Dick had been chosen trainer during the hike, and that his word, in training matters, was to be their law.  So the tent came down, in pretty nearly record time, and was loaded on the wagon.  The horse was harnessed, also without breakfast, and the party started down the road with Harry Hazelton holding the reins.

“I hope it’s a short two miles,” growled Reade to Darrin.

“Humph!  A fine Indian you’d make, Tom!” jibed Dave.  “An Indian is trained in being hungry.  It’s a part of the work that he has to undergo before he is allowed to be one of the men of the tribe.”

“That’s just the trouble with me,” Tom admitted.  “I’ve never been trained to be an Indian, and I am inclined to think that it requires training, and a lot of it.”

Outwardly Tom didn’t “grump” any, but he made a resolve that, hereafter, his voice would be strong for halting right on the bank of a swimming place.

“Can’t we hit up the pace a bit?” asked Tom.

“Yes,” nodded Dick.  “All who want to travel fast can hike right ahead.  Just keep on the main road.”

Tom, Greg and Dan immediately forged ahead, taking long, rapid steps.

“But don’t go in the water until we come up,” Dick called after them.  “Remember, the morning is hot, and you’ll be too overheated to go in at once.”

“Eh?” muttered Tom, with a sidelong look at his two fast-time companions.  “Humph!”

Then they fell back with the wagon again.

“There doesn’t seem to be any way to beat the clock to breakfast,” observed Dan, after he had walked several rods down the road.