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 Cæsar 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.
