discarded wearing apparel,
beside which were set his holiday shoes or boots.

It is the common, unwritten code among boys on such occasions, that
while in the water, each swimmer's clothes are to be held sacred from
molestation, even by his sworn enemies; at least, that was the "law," as
the writer understood it, in the year 1866. To meddle with another
boy's clothes while he was in the water was deemed an outlaw act.

Alfred and Halse, however, who had approached in the rear, and observed
Enoch's wardrobe lying unguarded on the shore, determined to redress
their grievances by making a descent upon it, while he was in the pond.
Ned and I, who were sitting under a large maple a little back from the
stream, saw them peering about the heaps of clothes, like a couple of
crows plotting larceny from a robin's nest. We had little idea what they
were about to do, however, for they walked away, and it was not till ten
minutes afterwards that we saw them again, this time with Alfred's horse
and wagon, up in the road, a hundred yards or more from the water.

"Why, Alf's going home!" Ned exclaimed. "I came down with him and I must
go back with him, unless I walk." "Don't go yet," I said. "You can ride
back with us. We are going to stay till evening."

"All right, I will," replied Ned. "I don't like to go with Alf very
well; he is always 'sassing' folks on the road.

"But they have stopped up there," Ned added. "Alf's got out and is
coming down here. Perhaps it's to call me to go home. He is picking up
stones. What suppose he is going to do?"

We watched him curiously. Halse sat in the wagon, holding the reins, but
Alf was stealing down to the shore, and he seemed to have a stone as
large as one's fist in each hand.

"You don't suppose he is going to stone Enoch and run?" queried Ned, in
some excitement. "There'll be high jinks, if he does."

I thought that was the intention, and called out in a low tone to
Addison, who was coming out of the water, a few rods off, to come to us.
But before he had more than heard me, Alfred slipped down past an alder
clump, to the spot where Enoch's clothes lay, and quickly tucking a
stone into each of his boots, threw them off into deep water, then
snatching up his pile of clothes, ran for the wagon.

They had the trick adroitly planned out, and he was not half a minute
executing it. Before an outcry was more than raised and the alarm wafted
out to Enoch, or his friends, Alfred and our Hal