"
Dick carried the axe into the tent, hiding it without awaking
any of the other sleepers. Then he went outside, searching until
he found a club that he thought would answer for defense.
Taking this with him he went over to the wash basin, where, wetting
a towel, he bathed his battered face.
"Almost one o'clock," he remarked, after striking a match for
a look at his watch. "I won't call Dave at all, but will stay
up and call Harry at half-past one."
CHAPTER XII
"TAG" IS THE GAME---TAG MOSHER!
"Now, come in with the sprint!" Dick sang out to Hazelton.
"Greg, Dave and Tom, you block him. Get through, Harry---some
way! Don't let 'em stop you."
It was three days later, and Dick & Co. were at work at their
main task during this summer camping, which was to train hard
and try to fit themselves for the football squad when high school
should open again.
Hazelton came on, at racing speed. He ducked low, making a gallant
effort. He nearly succeeded in getting through, but Tom's tackle
brought him to ground just at the right moment.
"Now, try that over again," Prescott said.
So the work went on, vigorously, for another hour---until all
of the boys were tired out, hot and panting.
"That's the most grueling work I ever did in the same space of
time," muttered Reade, mopping his face.
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