It was a wonderfully elaborate scheme to which the high school boys were privileged to listen. Such a scheme, really showed Dodge, in a way, to be possessed of more brains than people in Gridley commonly credited him with possessing.
But Dick smiled at Dave Darrin's scowl as the plot was unfolded in the next booth.
Fortunately for Dick and his chums the steak order was delayed in the serving. Thus Dodge and Bayliss finished their ice cream and left the place without discovering the presence of their intended victims.
“Say, aren't that pair just going to enjoy themselves at our expense?” chuckled Hazelton, after the plotters had left.
“Unless I miss my guess, they're going to dance to our music to-night,” laughed Dick gleefully.
Their meal was served soon after, and eaten with relish. As soon as it had been finished Dick asked the waiter for a sheet of paper and envelope.
“Don't worry about any weird doings you may hear of from our camp,” Prescott wrote his mother. “We've just learned of a big scare Dodge and Bayliss are planning to spring on us up at our camp. We're going to turn the tables on them—-that's all. But I write this for fear you may hear some awful tales when that pair reach Gridley.”
As they left the restaurant, Dick returned to the post-office, mailing this second letter to his mother.
“Now, we must buy a few things here,” Dick explained to his friends. “Then we must get out of this village by a back road, and we must make sure that we don't run into that pair of ex-soreheads.”
The “sorehead” reference, as readers of our “High School Boys Series” will recall, had to do with Dodge and Bayliss, ere they had been chased out of Gridley High School. These boys had belonged to the notorious “sorehead faction” in the high school football squad.
Going in different directions, Dick, Dave and Harry were able to make all their needed purchases in a short time. Right after that, they got out of the village, and back upon the rough trail for camp without having met their enemies.
It was nearly seven o'clock when the three travelers, all but fagged out, pushed their cart in sight of camp and gave a hail that brought the other chums running to meet them.
First of all, word was passed as to the successful outcome of the fish-selling expedition.
“I thought you fellows would bring us some fresh meat,” Tom cried, when Dave unloaded the cart. “Fresh vegetables, too? Wow! Won't we live? I told the fellows not to try to get supper until you got back, as you'd be sure to bring something that would make us sorry we had eaten. We've the fires all ready.”
“And now, listen!” commanded Dick Prescott, after the first preparations had been made for supper.
Thereupon the young leader of Dick &Co. repeated the plot they had heard Dodge and Bayliss unfold that noon.
“Hang those two heathens!” sputtered Tom Reade indignantly.
“Oh, I'm glad they're coming,” laughed Dick. “All I hope is that nothing will happen to keep them from coming to-night.”
Then Dick outlined his plan. Tom Read, after listening for a few moments, lay on the ground, rolling over and over in his glee.
“Wow! But won't that be great?” demanded Greg, laughing until the tears ran from his eyes.
“Say, we mustn't talk any more now. We must eat supper, and then get ready if we're to play the reception committee successfully tonight.”
At a very early hour, considering the lateness of the evening meal, Reade, with his knack in woodwork, and with no other tool than his jackknife, had fashioned the stocks for two “rifles.” These Hazelton carefully treated with mud from the lake so as to give them a dark color.
“If the guns are seen by the light of the campfire, the stocks and barrels ought to be of different colors,” Dick explained.
Dave was now fashioning two straight sticks into semblance of rifle barrels. These were lightly treated with mud and fastened to the two stocks. Then two additional “rifles” were to be manufactured.
Other work was performed, and all was gotten in readiness. Prescott had a number of mysterious-looking little packages that he had bought in the village.
“Oh, dear, but I hope nothing happens to keep Dodge and Bayliss from coming to-night,” breathed Tom, as he labored fast. “David, little giant, hurry up with those barrels. There can be no telling how soon we shall have to defend ourselves with these 'Quaker' guns!”
As they worked, the high school boys indulged in many a chuckle.
“It takes something like this to keep me awake to-night,” Dick yawned. “If there were no excitement coming, I'm so dead sleepy that I could go right into dreamland standing up.”
“So could I,” chirped Dave. “But I manage to keep awake by enjoying the thought of how thoroughly we'll wake up someone else tonight!”
“If our plans don't miscarry,” warned Dick.
“Please don't croak about failure or disappointment,” begged Tom tragically. “My warm, impulsive young heart won't stand any disappointment to-night.”
So they toiled on, their preparations all along the line taking shape rapidly.
By ten o'clock they had everything completed, including the manufacture of the “Quaker” rifles.
“Now, to our posts,” chuckled Dick, after a rapid distribution of things from the packages brought up from the village.
The campfire was allowed to burn low. Some light was still needed for the full success of their plans.
Tom and Dan took up their stand in front of the tent, each armed with a “Quaker” gun.
