“If Cobb gives me a C in German,” said Chub hopefully, “I’m all right.” “Well, I guess I got through,” said Dick proudly, “but it was hard work.” “Shucks!” scoffed Chub. “Just you wait until next year!” “Now don’t scare him to death,” Roy protested. “If you don’t look out he won’t show up in the fall at all. How are you getting on, Harry?” “Me? Oh, I’m all right, I guess. My last exam’s to-morrow; botany. Now you needn’t laugh,” she added indignantly. “Botany’s awfully hard.” “What’s the sense of it?” asked Chub. “What good is it going to do you to know whether a leaf’s lanceolate or--or composite?” “Don’t display your ignorance, Chub,” laughed Roy. “What good are lots of things they teach us?” Harry demanded. “Like--like music and drawing?” “Come now, Harry, music’s all right,” Roy protested. “As for drawing--” “It’s perfect nonsense! Why, I couldn’t draw one of those wooden cubes and make it look square if I was to try a whole year!” “But you ought to like music, Harry,” said Chub. “You know you have a charming voice, a natural--er--contralto, isn’t it?” Harry made a face at him. “I can sing just as well as you can, Smarty, anyhow!” “I hope so,” said Dick. “Chub sings like a coyote in distress!” “There speaks envy,” murmured Chub sadly. “I have a very melodious voice, and the beauty of it is that I can sing bass or tenor or--what’s the other thing I sing, Roy?” “Discord,” answered his chum unkindly. “That is not so,” responded Chub indignantly. “To show you what a fine voice I have I will now sing for you that charming little ditty entitled--” “Not much you won’t!” declared Dick threateningly. “If you try to sing we’ll thrash you. Look here, how about that letter? Have you heard from your folks yet?” “No, do you think I correspond by wireless?” answered Chub. “I can’t possibly hear before Thursday morning. It doesn’t matter, anyhow, I keep telling you. Dad won’t hear of such a thing.” “How would it do if we all wrote to him?” asked Dick, anxiously. Chub smiled grimly. “You’d better not if you don’t want to get a scorcher of a letter in reply. My dad’s a good sort, all right, but he doesn’t let any one else run his business for him. I have inherited that quality of--er--firmness.” Roy and Dick howled impolitely. “What are you all talking about?” asked Harry anxiously. “You’ve gone and got a secret, and I don’t think it’s very nice of you!” “Why, it isn’t really a secret,” answered Roy, hurriedly. “If there hadn’t been so much going on we’d have told you about it. We three are trying to get our folks to let us camp out for a month or so on Fox Island after school closes; that is, if your father will let us, and I guess he will.” “Then you won’t go home yet?” cried Harry, delightedly. “Not if we get permission. It all depends on Chub--” “On Chub’s father you mean,” growled that youth. “Because I’m pretty sure of my folks,” continued Roy; “and Dick says his father won’t mind if he stays a month longer.”