"I have," admitted Dick. "It's easy when you know how. After you do a double summersault, all you have to do--is to make another one, making three in all, and you can see that I had nothing concealed up my sleeve, and----" "And you did it without the aid of a net," added Fred, after the fashion of the ringmaster in a circus announcing some marvelous feat. "I'm going to try it," said Frank, as he clambered out on the bank. "No, I think we've been in the water long enough this morning," said Dick. "Besides it's most grub time. I don't know how you feel about it, but I think I could nibble at a bit of roast chicken, which I happen to know that our esteemed cook, Hannibal Caesar Erastus Jones, has in the oven." "Ah! Um!" murmured Bill Johnson. "That's it! Make a noise like a lunch-grabber!" objected Fred. "I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself." "Oh, listen to the professor at the breakfast table!" cried Bill with a laugh. "I don't s'pose you're going to nibble at any; art thou, Reginald?" "Well, you just watch him," advised Fred. "He's got me beat, all right." "Come on!" cried Dick suddenly. "First fellow at the dining tent gets most of the white meat!" He started off at a fast clip, the others sprinting after him, and he would have won, but that he stubbed his bare toe on a stone, and had to finish the rest of the distance on one leg, holding the injured member in his hands, making, the while, wry faces at the pain. Bill Johnson won the impromptu race. "Hurt much?" asked Walter, as Dick limped up. "Like sin. Say, Hannibal Caesar Erastus Jones, will you do me a favor?" he asked, as the colored cook, who did the camp cooking, came from his tent. "Ob co'se, Massa Dick. What am it?" "Just go back there in the woods and bring me the pieces of that stone I broke with my toe. I want 'em for souveniers." "Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Massa Dick, doan yo' go to playin' no tricks on me! Not jest at de present auspicious moment," and the colored man grinned broadly, showing a big expanse of white teeth, in an area of blackness. "Why not, Rastus?" "'Case as how de chicken am all done, an' if it ain't partook of immejeet----" "Never mind those souveniers," said Dick. "We'll be with you in the twinkling of a flea's left hand eyelash," and he hopped into his tent, and began to dress, an example followed by the other boys. "Humph!" murmured Hannibal Caesar Erastus Jones, as he stood in the midst of the camp, rapidly blinking his eyes. "Fust I eber knowed a flea had a eyelash. But Massa Dick, he must know, 'case he's po'ful smart. But I 'spects I'd better git ready to serb up de grub, as dey calls it, 'case dey's allers pow'ful hungry when dey's been in swimmin'. Come t' t'ink ob it, dough, dey's most allers ready t' eat." And, chuckling to himself, Hannibal started toward the cook tent.