Dick as being so utterly funny that he could not help laughing
outright.

"Thank you, Mr. Titmouse," he replied. "I don't believe I'll
eat any apples just now."

"I might make it four for a nickel," coaxed the little man, "if
you agree not to pick out the largest apples."

"Thank you, but I don't believe I'll eat any apples at all just
now," Dick managed to reply, then made his escape in time to avoid
laughing in Mr. Titmouse's face.

Once out on the street, and knowing that he had some twenty minutes
to wait for the next car, Dick strolled slowly along.

"I didn't know that boy," muttered Newbegin Titmouse, looking
after Prescott with a half admiring gaze, "and I didn't size him
up right. He offered me ten dollars, and then got the wagon for
six. Whew! I don't believe I ever before got off so badly as
that in a trade. But I really did spend five-fifty in advertising
the wagon in the Tottenville and Gridley papers this summer,
so I'm fifty cents ahead, anyway, and a fifty-cent piece is always
equivalent to half a dollar!"

With which sage reflection Mr. Newbegin Titmouse went out into
his small orchard to see whether he had overlooked any summer
apples that were worth two dollars a barrel.

Dick sauntered down the street for a few blocks ere he heard the
whirr of a Gridley-bound trolley car behind him. He quickened
his pace until he reached the next corner. There he signaled
to the motorman.

As the car slowed down Dick swung himself on nimbly, remarking
to the conductor:

"Don't make a real stop for me. Drive on!"

As Prescott passed inside the car he was greeted by a pleasant-faced,
well-dressed young man. It was Mr. Luce, one of the sub-masters
of Gridley High School. Dick dropped into a seat beside him.

"Been tramping a bit, Prescott?" inquired the sub-master.

"No, sir; I've been over here on a little matter of business,
but I expect to start, in a day or two, on a few weeks of tramping."

Thereupon young Prescott fell to describing the trip that he,
Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
had mapped out for themselves.

"Just for pleasure?" asked Mr. Luce.

"No, sir; for training. We all hope to make the football team
this fall. We're all of us in pretty good shape, too, I think,
sir; but we're going out on this training hike to see if we can't
work ourselves down as hard as nails."

"I'd like to go with you," nodded the sub-master.

"Can't you do