"Of course we do," agreed Perry animatedly. "Anyway, I do. Summers are
all just the same. My folks lug me off to the Water Gap and we stay
there until it's time to come back here. I play tennis and go motoring
and sit around on the porch and--and--bathe--"

"Let's hope so," interpolated Joe gravely.

"And nothing really interesting ever happens," ended Perry despairingly.
"Gee, I'd like to be a pirate or--or something!"

"Summers _are_ rather deadly," assented Steve. "We go to the seashore,
but the place is filled with swells, and about all they do is change
their clothes, eat and sleep. When you get ready for piracy, Perry, let
me know, will you! I'd like to sign-on."

"Put me down, too," said Joe. "I've always had a--um--sneaking idea that
I'd make a bully pirate. I'm naturally bloodthirsty and cruel. And I've
got a mental list of folks who--um--I'd like to watch walk the plank!"

"Fellows of our ages have a rotten time of it, anyway," Perry grumbled.
"We're too old to play kids' games and too young to do anything worth
while. What I'd like to do--"

"Proceed, Sweet Youth," Joe prompted after a moment.

"Well, I'd like to--to start something! I'd like to get away somewhere
and do things. I'm tired of loafing around in white flannels all day
and keeping my hands clean. And I'm tired of dabbing whitewash on my
shoes! Didn't you fellows ever think that you'd like to get good and
dirty and not have to care? Wouldn't you like to put on an old flannel