“That’s right, Randolph,” approved his companion briskly, “always think twice before you speak once.”

“I always do, Donald Graeme,” retorted Rand; “but what I was really going to say when you interrupted me with your irrelevant remark, was—­”

“Hurrah!” broke in Donald, waving his cap in answer to the hail of another boy who was just then seen hurrying down the road toward them.  “Here comes Pepper in a rush, as usual.”

It was just after dawn of a June morning that the boys were assembling.  It was still dark and gloomy, for it had rained during the night and the storm had not yet passed, but the boys having planned a fishing trip for this morning were not to be deterred by the fear of a wet jacket.

“Hello, fellows!” panted the newcomer, who was smaller and slighter than either of the others, but who made up in activity and energy what he lacked in size.  His hair was a glowing red and with it went a temper so quick that the nickname, Pepper, that some chum had given him, was most appropriate.  It is doubtful if any of his comrades really knew his Christian name.  Certainly he was always “Pepper” to every one, even at home, although he was christened Philip.

“I say, I was afraid you’d be gone when I got here.”

“Well, we would have been,” drawled Randolph, “only we knew you’d be late, and we took our time.”

“Now that isn’t fair, Rand,” laughed the other, “you know I’m not always late.”

“Well, maybe not always,” conceded Rand; “but almost always.  What was the matter this morning—­breakfast late?”

“Now, you know I didn’t wait for breakfast,” protested Pepper, adding rather reluctantly, “though I did stop for a bite.  But even if I am late I’m not last.  Jack isn’t here yet, and he left home first.”

“Oh, he’s out on the trail somewhere, I suppose,” surmised Donald.  “He’s always chasing for news.  He’ll be coming along presently with a whole budget.  I believe he thinks the paper couldn’t go on if it weren’t for him.”

“‘That reminds me,’ as Dick Wilson says,” interrupted Rand, taking a pamphlet from his pocket and holding it out to his companions, “speaking of trails, what do you think of that?”

“What is it?” asked Pepper, eying it suspiciously.  “Looks as if the cat had been walking on it.” goodness, I hope not.  I thought you were always hungry, but if you are only beginning I foresee a famine ahead of us.  And to think of all the good food that is wasted on you, Pepper,” went on Donald reflectively.  “Why, to look at you any one might think that you never had had enough to eat.”

“That shows how deceiving looks are,” replied Pepper.  “Though I never did have enough,” he added plaintively.

“Of course not,” returned Donald, “there isn’t as much as that anywhere.”

“As much what?” asked Rand.

“Food, grub, provisions, victuals,” replied Donald, setting off along the road at a pace that put a stop to any more talk.