for me to submit it and put it to vote before you," Dick went
on. "Fellows, let's set about this present fishing trip, for
this month, and then, while we're away, talk up the proper scheme
for August. Whatever we do in the way of fun, next month, will
be sure to be better planned if we wait a little before talking
it over."

"All right, then," agreed Tom Reade with a sigh. "But I warn
you, Dick, and all you fellows, that if Prescott is too stingy
with news about his August plan, I shall put forth one of my own."

"What's your August plan, Tom?" demanded Greg.

"I'm not going to tell you---yet," Reade rejoined, shaking his
head mysteriously.

"There are a lot of things that you're not telling us," Dave reminded
him. "Just for one little thing, you're not telling us what happened
to you last night after you let a lot of strange men chase you
out of Dick's street."

"They didn't chase me off the street!" declared Tom indignantly.

"Then what did happen?" quizzed Danny Grin.

"They all tried to beat me in a foot race," Tom declared, "and
I put it all over them!"

"Yet someone must have passed you, or got in front of you," teased
Greg. "Look at the bruise on your face, and your knuckles."