"Well, you found out you could run if you tried," Frank remarked, as he looked at where Jim was sprawled on the grass.
"Oh, I knew it all along," Jim replied, "only I didn't want it to get out, for fear I'd have to enter all the contests. Maybe I'll go in the next real race," he added. "I've trained enough for three or four seasons I guess."
"I'm afraid you're not cured yet," commented Ned with a laugh. "It was all for your good, Jim."
"That's all right. I appreciate that, and I'm much obliged to you. Can I have that turtle?"
"What for?"
"Why, I thought maybe I could educate it," and Jim smiled.
"Go ahead; take it if you want to," Ned replied. "I had trouble enough catching it in the river."
Jim carried off the turtle, and the crowd of boys and girls, laughing and joking about the lazy race, gradually dispersed.
"Wonder what Jim wanted of the turtle?" asked Fenn, as the four chums walked along.
"Give it up," said Ned. "Going to train it to waltz maybe."
"More like he's going to play some joke on you for what you did," suggested Frank, who was in better spirits than his friends had observed him to be for some time.
And that was exactly what happened. When the chums got to school the next Monday morning, they were met with queer glances on every side. At last Ned demanded:
"What are you fellows grinning at? What's the joke? Tell us and we'll laugh too."
"Better go downtown and look in the drug store window," advised Lem Gordon.
The chums took the advice that afternoon. They found quite a crowd in front of the "Emporium," as the drug store was called. Working their way up to the window the four boys saw a queer sight.
A big box had been arranged to represent a pond, with rushes and grass growing around the edges. In the center was a little mound of stones, that were raised above the surface of the water with which the box was filled.
But what attracted more attention, than the accurate representation of a pond, was a big mud turtle resting on the stones lazily blinking at the crowds that stared at it, as though pleased with the homage paid. And, on a card hanging over the turtle, was this inscription:
"Winner of the Darewell High School annual lazy-race. Trained for the event by Ned Wilding, Fenn Masterson, Bart Keene and Frank Roscoe."
"I guess that's one on you," remarked Lem Gordon, as he joined the chums while they were looking in the window. "Jim got back at you all right."
"Yes, I guess he did," admitted Ned.
Nearly everyone in the crowd knew the four chums, and the boys were subjected to considerable chaffing over the notice about training the turtle. They took it good-naturedly, and when Jim Morton came strolling along, a little doubtful as to how the four lads would treat him, because of the joke he had played, Ned called out:
"That's a good one, Jim."
"Much obliged for that turtle," Jim responded. Then, as he walked a little way down the street with the chums he told them he had sold the animal to the drug store proprietor for a dollar and had suggested putting it in the window, to attract attention, and serve as an advertisement.
It now lacked but a few weeks to vacation time, and every boy in the school, including the four chums, was counting the hours until the classes would close for the summer.
"We haven't made our vacation plans yet," said Fenn one afternoon, when the boys were out on the river in their boat. "What are we going to do?"
"Let's take another boating trip, away up the river," suggested Ned.
"I was going to propose a walking trip, taking in the whole county and lasting three weeks," Bart put in.
"That's too much work," commented Fenn.
"You're getting so fat you're lazy," remarked Ned. "But I think myself walking is a little too tiresome."
"Oh, I only just mentioned it," Bart hurried to add. "I don't insist on it. Let's hear what Frank has to say."
"I'm in favor of going camping," was Frank's answer. "I think it would be fun to go to the farther end of the big woods."
"Away off there?" asked Ned in some surprise.
"That's a good distance," commented Bart.
"And lonesome," added Fenn.
"But it's just right for camping," Frank went on. "We don't want to put up our tent in the middle of a village. The wilder place we can find the better."
"There's something in that," Bart admitted. "I'd like to camp where we couldn't hear a railroad whistle or a factory bell. But what's your idea going so far into the woods, Frank?"
"Nothing in particular, I only happened to think of it," but Frank's manner showed that he had some reason for the suggestion, and did not want to tell his chums. Ned was the only one of the three who noticed it, however, and he concluded to say nothing, but to keep close watch over Frank.
"The far end of the big woods," mused Bart aloud. "That is the place Mr. Hardman was inquiring about. By the way, Frank, did you ever catch him?"
"No, he went to Lockport. I wrote to a friend there, as I didn't have time to go myself, and I got an answer that no one of that name was at any of the hotels. So I concluded there wasn't much use bothering any more. But I'll find him some day, and when I do—" Frank paused. His chums looked at him, wondering at the emphasis he put in his words. "But let's talk about camping," the boy went on. "What do you say? Shall we go to the woods?"
"Suits me," remarked Ned, and the others agreed that it would be as much fun, for the vacation season, as anything they could propose.
They were soon busy talking over the details, arranging about the tent and the cooking utensils, and discussing the best way of transporting their camp stuff. They made some inquiries the next day and learned that by going to Lockport they could enter the woods by an old trail, seldom used, and could travel much more easily than if they worked their way in by the corduroy road.
"That's what we'll do," decided Ned. "Then, Frank, maybe you can have a chance to find your friend, Mr. Hardman."
"I don't believe I'll look for him," Frank replied. "We'll not have much time in Lockport anyhow. I have another plan now," but he did not tell his chums what it was.
Two weeks later school closed, and the boys completed their preparations for going camping. They packed up their tent and other stuff and shipped it to Lockport. They followed it two days later, and one bright morning, having seen their things loaded upon a wagon, they started off for the depths of the big woods.
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