r doings, replete with lively
adventures. In that volume the activities of Tag Mosher, a strangely
odd character, kept Dick & Co. continually on the alert. In the
third volume of the vacation series, entitled "_The High School
Boys' Fishing Trip_," were chronicled the things that befell Dick
& Co. while away on a fishing expedition that became famous in
the annals of Gridley school days. This third volume was full
to the brim with the sort of adventures that boys most love.
Some old enemies of Dick & Co. appeared; how they were put to
rout is well known to all our readers. How Dick & Co. played
a huge joke, and several smaller ones upon their enemies, is described
in that volume.

In this present volume will be recounted all that befell Dick
& Co. in August after completing their junior year in Gridley
High School, just as the preceding or third volume dealt with
the happenings of July of that same summer.

After that first halt Dick & Co. plodded on for another hour.
But Prescott, noting that Hazelton was still on the driver's
seat of the camp wagon, blandly inquired:

"Harry, if you sit up there, lazily holding the reins, how do
you expect to get your share of the training work of this hike?"

"Perhaps I'd rather have the comfort than the training work,"
laughed Hazelton.

"That will never do!" smiled Dick. "Suppose you climb down and
let Danny Grin take your place at the reins until the next halt.
I suspect that Danny boy already has a few pebbles in his shoes,
and that he'll be glad enough to look over the world from the
driver's seat."

"I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the good of the expedition,
anyway," sighed Dalzell, as Harry drew rein. "Come down with
you, Hazy, and begin to share the delights of this walking match!"

The change of drivers made, Dick & Co. plodded on again.

"It seems to me that we ought to put on more speed," suggested
Dave Darrin.

"Are you in a hurry to get somewhere, Darry?" drawled Tom Reade.

"No," Dave replied, "but, if we're out for training, it seems
to me that we had better do brisker walking than we're doing now,
even if the horse can't keep up with us."

"We're making about three miles and a half an hour," Dick responded.

"But will that be work enough to make us as hard as nails?" persisted
Darry.

"We're getting over the ground as fast as the troops of the regular
army usually travel," Prescott rejoined. "I believe our regulars
are generally regarded