The Rover Boys in Camp Part 23

"What's the matter with this coat"? he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Well, I declare!"

"What's up now"? asked another cadet.

"Somebody has gone and sewed up the sleeves."

There was a roar of laughter at this.

"Mustn't mind a little thing like that," said Sam, and he sat down on the edge of his cot to put on his shoes. "Great Scott, what's this"?

He had forced his foot into one shoe and now withdrew it covered with soft soap.

"Haw! haw!" roared Tubbs. "Rather fancy the laugh is on you now, Rover."

"That's a fact," muttered Sam, and began to clean out the shoe as quickly as he could.

Several other small jokes had been played, showing that the cadets were "tuning up," as Major Larry expressed it.

"I guess I'll have my hands full before the week is out," he said to d.i.c.k, in private. "Keeping order will be no fool of a job."

"Well, you must remember that you liked to have your fling too, when you were a private, major," answered the captain of Company A.

The cooking detail were already preparing breakfast and the aroma of hot coffee floated throughout the camp. Immediately after roll-call breakfast was served, of fruit, fish, eggs, bread, and coffee, and the cadets pitched in with a will.

"Gives one an appet.i.te to live out in the open," said Lieutenant Tom.

"As if you didn't carry your appet.i.te with you wherever you go,"

grinned Sam.

"Silence, Private Rover, or I'll fine you half a day's pay," flung back Tom with a similar grin.

"My, but we are some pumpkins," went on Sam, squaring his shoulders.

"Wonder how soon we'll get to be a general."

"Perhaps at the next general election," suggested George Granbury.

"Lieutenant Granbury is fined a peanut for punning," said Tom severely.

"Don't do it again and the fine will be remitted."

"That's a fine way to do," murmured George, and then Sam s.h.i.+ed a tin plate at him.

As soon as the meal was over there was a drill lasting half an hour, and then the cadets were permitted to do as they pleased until noon.

Some went boating, some fis.h.i.+ng, while others took a swim, or simply "knocked around" as Sam expressed it.

"I shouldn't mind a swim," said Tom. "Who will go in with me"?

A dozen cadets were willing, including d.i.c.k, Larry, and Fred Garrison.

As it was off time, Larry, even though major, did not feel it necessary to "stand on his dignity."

"I'm just going to be as I've always been," he told the others. "If I can't be that, I don't want to be major."

Several tents had been erected close to the water's edge, where the cadets might undress and don their bathing suits. Tom was the first ready, and with a run he plunged into the lake head-first.

"It's glorious!" he shouted, as he came up and shook the water from his head. "Worth a dollar a minute. Come on in!" And they came, one after another, without loss of more time. The water was slightly cool, but the students at Putnam Hall were required to take cold baths weekly, so they did not mind the temperature. Laughing and shouting gleefully they dove around in all directions, and then Tom suggested a race.

"Just the thing!" said another cadet. "Where shall we race to"?

"Over to yonder rock and back," answered Tom. "Line up, everybody. A stale biscuit to the winner and a sour cream puff for the last man. All ready"?

There was a pause.

"Start!" yelled Tom, and made a wild splash that sent the water flying in all directions.

"A race! A race!" shouted one of the students on the sh.o.r.e, and his cry soon brought a score or more of the others to the spot.

"I think Tom Rover will win that race."

"I'll bet on Major Larry."

"Fred Garrison is ahead. He's the best swimmer in the school."

"He can't swim as well as d.i.c.k Rover."

"I'll bet Jackson wins," came from Lew Flapp, who was in the crowd on the beach. Jackson, it will be remembered, was one of his particular cronies.

"Jackson can't swim against d.i.c.k Rover," came from Songbird Powell, who had hardly spoken to Flapp since the row at Mike Sherry's resort.

"I'll bet you a dollar he beats Rover," replied the tall boy, in a low tone.

"I don't bet, Flapp."

"You're afraid to bet," sneered the tall boy.

This statement angered Powell and he quickly dove into his pocket and pulled out the sum mentioned.

"This is the time you lose, Flapp," he said quietly.

Another student was made stakeholder and each boy pa.s.sed over his money.

By this time the race was well underway. Tom was still in the lead, but Jackson was close behind him, with Larry Colby third and d.i.c.k fourth.

"Go it, Tom, you are sure to win!" shouted one of his friends.

"Don't know about that," Tom returned pantingly. "Guess I started too hard!" And soon he began to drop behind.

"Jackson is ahead!" was the next cry.

"Major Colby is a close second!"

"That is true, but d.i.c.k Rover is crawling up!"