“Might I ask where and how you find such delicious watermelons in this neck of the woods?” inquired Brown, of the Prestons.

“Ask the young ladies,” piped up Danny Grin, thereby getting himself much disliked for at least the next thirty seconds.

“Dr. Bentley and the young ladies obtained the melons from a farmer,” explained Tom Reade, giving Dan an unseen poke in the small of the back.

“These melons look good enough to steal,” laughed Hartwell, and was unable to understand the total silence that greeted his assertion.

“Help wanted from a couple of you boys!” called the voice of the launch man.

Four of Dick & Co. raced down to the water’s edge.  They came back, staggering under a big bucket covered on the top with bagging.

“What is this?” asked Dick.

“Ice cream,” explained the doctor.  “Mrs. Bentley’s suggestion.”

“We fellows of Preston High School feel ashamed of ourselves for having intruded,” exclaimed Hartwell.  “May we be permitted to withdraw?”

“At any time after ten o’clock,” smiled Mrs. Bentley graciously.  “We shall be very much disappointed if you leave us at present.”

There was a clatter of dishes and spoons.  Mrs. Bentley and Mrs. Meade presided over this part of the camp feast.

“We needn’t ask you Gridley fellows if you’ve been having a good time,” declared Hartwell presently.  “But we hadn’t any idea that we should intrude on an affair of this sort.  In fact, while business must be barred now, I will admit that business was the object of our call.”

“What sort of business?” inquired Dick Prescott.

“We came to challenge you fellows to a race,” explained Big Chief Hartwell.

“A race?” chuckled Dave.  “Queer how you’ve bit us where we live!”

“Do you think you can beat us in a canoe race?” asked Hartwell.

“Yes,” Dick rejoined.  “All we need to arrange is the date.  We’ll beat you on any date that you name!  That isn’t brag, please understand!  It’s merely the old, old Gridley High School way.”

The young ladies applauded this sentiment merrily.

CHAPTER XVI

A SCALP-HUNTING DISAPPOINTMENT

“Want to try us out, Gridley?” hailed Big Chief Hartwell, from the Preston High School canoe.

It was nearly ten o’clock the next morning, but Dick & Co. had just finished putting their camp to rights after breakfast, for they had slept late after the feast.

“Do we want to try you out?” Dick answered laughingly.  “Why, we don’t have to do that.  We shall be ready to hand you a beating, though, at any time you ask for it.  We can’t help beating you, you know.  It’s the Gridley way!”

“Brag is a good dog,” derided Brown from the bow seat of the Preston canoe.

“We keep both dogs here,” Dave shouted tantalizingly.