“Why, Mr. Powell, you are a real poet,” said one of the girls gravely.  And this pleased Songbird greatly.

“You’ll have to write in my autograph album,” said another, and the would-be poet readily consented.  Later he inscribed a poem in the book three pages long.

At last it came time to leave the woods, and the boys walked with the girls toward the road.  As they did this they heard the sound of wheels.

“Must be a carriage coming,” said Dick, and stepped into the roadway to see, followed by the others in the party.  A few seconds later a turnout rumbled into sight.  It was the Hope Seminary carryall, and it contained half a dozen girls, including Dora, Nellie and Grace.

“Hello!  Look there!” cried Tom, and raised his cap, and the other boys did the same.  Dora and her cousins looked at the crowd, and their faces flushed.  They bowed rather stiffly, and then the carryall bowled on its way.

“Why, those are your friends!” cried Minnie, turning to the Rovers.  “Don’t you want to speak to them?”

“It’s too late now,” answered Dick.  He had a curious sinking sensation in his heart that he could not explain.  He looked at his brothers, and saw that they, too, were out of sorts.

The passing of the carryall put a damper on matters, and the girls felt it.  They talked with the Rovers and Songbird a few minutes longer and then turned in one direction while the Brill students turned in another.

“Fine lot of girls,” was Songbird’s comment.  “Very nice, indeed.  And they know how to appreciate poetry, too,” he added with satisfaction.

“Oh, yes, they are all right,” answered Dick carelessly.  Somehow, he was now sorry he had gone to the woods after nuts.

“I am going to call on all of them some time,” went on Songbird.  “That Minnie Sanderson told me she plays the piano, and sings.  I am going to get her to sing a new song I am writing.  It goes like this—­”

“Excuse me, Songbird; not now,” said Dick.  “I want to do an extra lesson.”  And he hurried off, while Sam and Tom did the same.

Two hours later Dick ran into William Philander Tubbs, who had been down to town in company with Stanley.

“Had a lovely time, don’t you know,” drawled William Philander.  “While Stanley posted some letters and addressed some picture postals I did up the shops.  And what do you think?  I found a beautiful new maroon necktie, and it was only a dollar—­same kind they would charge one seventy-five for in the big cities.  And I saw a new style of collar, and some patent-leather pumps that have bows with loose ends, and—­”

“Some other time, Billy,” interrupted Dick.  “I’m in a hurry now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  But, Dick, one other thing.  I met Miss Stanhope and her cousins.”

“You did?” And now Dick was willing to listen.  “Where?”

“At one of the stores.  They were doing some buying, in company with those chaps you don’t like.”