"I think we ought to display the school colors!" cried Dave. "Anybody got a flag?"
"Here is one," answered Polly Vane, from his seat in front, beside the driver. "But I haven't got a stick for it."
"Never mind, Shadow's fishing rod will do," answered Dave. "Shadow, hand it over."
"All right, but don't break the rod," said Shadow. "It cost me four bones."
The rod was put together, and the school colors fastened to the top. Then the rod was thrust out of a side window of the carryall and waved in the air, first by one student and then another.
"Look out, that you don't hit nobody with that fishin' pole!" warned the carryall driver, as the turnout swung around a bend of the road.
He had scarcely spoken when a buggy came into view, driven by a tall, serious-looking individual, wearing a high silk hat. The buggy swung forward quickly, directly in line with the fishing rod, and before the boys could haul the colors in the rod hit the silk hat, sending it whirling into the bushes beside the roadway.
