The High School Boys Fishing Trip | Page 8

upon.
While the boys stood there chatting not one of them suspected how eagerly they were being watched by two pairs of eyes.
On the same side of the street, only a door below them, was an unrented cottage. One of the windows of this cottage, upstairs, was open, though closed blinds concealed the fact. Between these blinds peered two young men.
That cottage was the property of Mr. Dodge, vice-president of one of Gridley's banks.
Readers of "_The High School Left End_" have good reason to remember the banker's son, Bert Dodge. He and his friend, Bayliss, also the scion of a wealthy family, had been members of the notorious "sorehead" group in the last year's football squad at Gridley High School.
As our readers well remember, Dodge and Bayliss had carried their opposition to Dick & Co. to such dishonorable extent that they had been given the "silence" by the boys and girls attending the Gridley High School.
Dodge and Bayliss had thereupon left home to attend a private school, and they had gone away from Gridley with bitter hatred of Dick & Co. rankling in their hearts.
Just at this present moment Dodge and Bayliss were back in the home town. Deeply and properly humiliated by the contempt with which they were regarded in Gridley, these two "soreheads" had concealed from all but members of their families the fact that they were in town.
Bert had secured from his father the keys of the cottage. Two cots had been placed in a front room. Late the night before Dodge had brought food supplies to the cottage. Here the two youngsters were to remain secretly for a few days until Bayliss received from his family, then abroad, the money needed for his summer outing. What the elder Dodge did not know or even suspect, was that his son and Bayliss had returned with some half-formed plans of paying back old scores against Dick & Co.
"I knew this cottage was the place for us," Bert whispered. "As I told you, Bayliss, this corner is a favorite meeting place for Prescott and his fellow muckers."
"From what I hear, they're going to leave town for a few weeks," replied Bayliss.
"Yes; going out into the wilds on some sort of fishing jaunt."
"I wish we knew their plans better than we do," murmured Bayliss.
"Don't believe they know 'em themselves any too well," sneered Bert Dodge. "However, we don't need to know where they're going. We can follow 'em, can't we?"
"Yes; and get jolly well thumped for our pains, maybe," retorted Bayliss dryly.
"Well, if you're afraid, we'll let 'em depart in peace," mocked Bert.
"Who's afraid?" demanded Bayliss irritably.
"I hope you're not," retorted Bert Dodge.
"If you're not afraid---if you're as thoroughly game as I am---then we'll have some satisfaction out of those fellows."
"Lead me to it!" ordered Bayliss hotly.
"I will, to-morrow morning," promised Bert Dodge. "If you stick to me, we'll make those muckers sorry they ever knew us!"
"We must be under way by nine o'clock," the listeners heard Dick say. "We go west, over Main Street. We must start promptly, for we have sixteen miles to go to our first camp at the second lake in the Cheney Forest."
"Do you hear that?" whispered Bert. "The idiots have given us their full route! We can leave at four in the morning, and won't have to follow 'em at all. We can be there ahead of time, and have all the lines laid."
"Somehow," sounded Dave Darrin's voice, "I have a hunch, fellows, that we're going to have the finest time we ever had in our lives."
"We would have," sighed Tom Reade, "if it weren't for that push cart."
"At four o'clock this afternoon, then, and be prompt," called Dick, preparing to leave the others.
"Wait a moment," urged Dave.
"What's the matter?" inquired Dick, halting.
"Tom's just on the point of telling us what really happened to him last night," smiled Darry.
"Humph!" grunted Reade, walking briskly away.
"I can tell what's going to happen to 'em all on some other nights," whispered Bert Dodge in his friend's ear.
"To get square with those muckers, who drove us out of Gridley High School and out of town is my only excuse for living at present," sniffed Bayliss.
CHAPTER III
DICK & CO. DRIVEN UP A TREE
"Dick!"
"Yes?" replied Prescott, turning and looking back at Tom, whose turn it now was to furnish motive power to the loaded cart.
"How far did you say it was from Gridley to the second lake?" asked Reade.
"Sixteen miles."
"I've pushed the cart more than that far already," grunted Tom. "I'm willing to wager that the lake is more than a hundred and twenty miles from Gridley."
"Suppose it is," scoffed Dave, falling back beside the cart "Tom, just think of the fine training your back muscles are getting out of this work!"
"I'll tell you all about that, Darry," grumbled Reade, "when