in other stubs
which they proceeded to visit. So the eager moments gaily passed into
minutes all unheeded, till inevitable recollection dragged them back
from the world of adventure and romance to that of stern duty and dull
toil.

"Say, boys, we'll be late," cried Larry, in sudden panic, seizing his
oar. "Come on, Ben, let's go."

"I guess it's pretty late now," replied Ben, slowly taking up his oar.

"Dat bell, I hear him long tam," said Joe placidly. "Oh, Joe!" cried
Larry in distress. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Joe shrugged his shoulders. He was his own master and superbly
indifferent to the flight of time. With him attendance at school was a
thing of more or less incidental obligation.

"We'll catch it all right," said Mop with dark foreboding. "He was awful
mad last time and said he'd lick any one who came late again and keep
him in for noon too."

The prospect was sufficiently gloomy.

"Aw, let's hurry up anyway," cried Larry, who during his school career
had achieved a perfect record for prompt and punctual attendance.

In ever deepening dejection the discussion proceeded until at length Mop
came forward with a daring suggestion.

"Say, boys, let's wait until noon. He won't notice anything. We can
easily fool him."

This brought no comfort to Larry, however, whose previous virtues would
only render this lapse the more conspicuous. A suggestion of Joe's
turned the scale.

"Dat woodchuck," he said, "he's got one hole on de hill by dere. He's
big feller. We dron heem out."

"Come on, let's," cried Mop. "It will be awful fun to drown the beggar
out."

"Guess we can't do much this morning, anyway," said Ben, philosophically
making the best of a bad job. "Let's go, Larry." And much against his
will, but seeing no way out of the dilemma, Larry agreed.

They explored the woodchuck hole, failing to drown out that cunning
subterranean architect who apparently had provided lines of retreat for
just such emergencies as confronted him now. Wearied of the woodchuck,
they ranged the bush seeking and finding the nests of bluejays and of
woodpeckers, and in a gravel pit those of the sand martens. Joe led them
to the haunts of the woodcock, but that shy bird they failed to glimpse.
Long before the noon hour they felt the need of sustenance and found
that Larry's lunch divided among the four went but a small way in
satisfying their pangs of hunger. The other three, carefree and
unconcerned for what the future mi