"So we'll give the odd one to Danny Grin."

"Maybe we'll be glad to," laughed Dave. "I'm not sure that all
these bull-heads were alive when Dalzell picked them up."

"Huh!" snorted Dan.

Nothing spoiled their appetite for the fish, however, which were
cooked to a turn and of fine flavor. Tom Reade, however, got
the odd fish as being the only one whose appetite was large enough
to permit of the feat of adding it to three other fish.

"And now, what are we going to do?" asked Dave, after the meal
was finished and the dishes had been washed.

"Who has sore feet?" called Dick.

Not one of the six boys would plead guilty to that charge.

"Then we won't have to heat water," Dick announced. "Each fellow
can bathe his feet in cold water before turning in. But, when
one's feet ache, or are blistered, then a wash in piping hot water
is the thing to take out the ache."

By nine o'clock all hands began to feel somewhat drowsy, for the
day had been warm, and, at last, these youngsters were willing
to admit that their road work had been as strenuous as they needed.

"But to-morrow we'll do twenty-five miles," Dave insisted.