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Roscoe's fine young face lighted up with a laugh at his old college chum's seriousness. "You're mistaken, Ranny," he said. "I'm not a socialist but a sociologist. There's a distinction, isn't there? I don't believe that my series of books will be at all complete without a study of socialism as it exists in its crudest form, and as it must exist up here in the North.
They call him "a queer specimen sportsman," understanding little his love for the wild offspring of the woods, because he never uses his gun save when the bareness of his larder or the peril of his own life or his chum's demands it.
"Doesn't it feel fine to be a bilger?" gulped Dalzell, staring at the floor. A "bilger," as has been already explained, is a midshipman who has failed and has been dropped. "Oh, but you're not a bilger, yet!" cried Darrin, leaping up and resting both hands on his chum's shoulder. "What's the odds?" demanded Dan grimly.
"And she's as big as Hessie Grimes!" exclaimed Jess on the other side, and catching her chum's idea. "Would you take Hester's part in the masquerade?" asked Laura pointblank. "But she doesn't belong to Central High!" wailed Lily Pendleton. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Jess. "What does it matter? This is all for a show. It is no competition with other members of the League."
"What is it?" cried Ned, startled by something in his chum's manner. "It's them! The Englishmen!" cried Tom. "See, they are racing back along the trail. Their porters have deserted them. But they have my camera! I can see it! I'm going down, and get it! Ned, stand by the wheel, and make a quick landing. Then we'll go up again!"
"You shouldn't be so popular, Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill," chanted Helen, leaning over to kiss her chum's flushed cheek. "Look out for the barberries!" cried Ruth. "I reckon you don't want to spill them, after working so hard to get them," Tom said, as the automobile lurched forward. "I certainly do not," Ruth admitted. "I scratched my hands all up getting the bucket full.
Two girls who were seated within a yard from my machine were continually bandying secrets. Now one and then the other would look around to make sure that the contractor was not watching, and then she would bend over and whisper something into her chum's ear. This would set my blood tingling with a peculiar kind of inquisitiveness.
"I wish it were somebody else," muttered Dave, huskily, in his chum's ear. "Gridley is fixed for lead, anyway," replied Dick, "if Ripley can always keep in such form as that." "Can Ripley do it again?" shouted one Gridley senior. "Try it, and see, Ripley," urged Mr. Luce, again swinging his bat. Fred had been holding the returned ball for a minute or two. His face was flushed, his eyes glowing.
Hazelton's quick eyes were taking in every detail of the work being done by the several large gangs of workmen. "Tom, if we're away from here by Christmas, there's one present you needn't make me," smiled Hazelton wanly, as he caught sight of the camera hanging in its leather field case at his chum's side. "What present is that?" Tom inquired.
Helen never lay awake after her head touched the pillow, so Ruth did not look for any questioning on her chum's part. And Amy had already wept herself unhappily into dreamland. "Poor kiddie!" thought Ruth, casting a commiserating glance again at Amy. "And now for this silly boy. If the girls knew what I was going to do they'd have a spasm, I expect," and she chuckled.
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