But I can't understand why the agency hasn't communicated
with us in some way."
Dinner was eaten in quicker time than usual. Dick and Dave, perhaps
some of the others, felt a secret desire to slip over to the other
camp, but no one mentioned any such wish. Instead, the dinner
dishes were washed, the cooking utensils cleaned, and the camp
put in a very good semblance of order.
"In forty-five minutes more," remarked Prescott, glancing at his
watch, "we must be back at training work."
"Not to-day," replied Tom.
"What's the matter?" demanded Dick, looking sharply at him.
"In forty-five minutes more," exclaimed Reade, "we'll be sitting
inside the tent, looking out at the weather."
"What are you talking about, Tom?" asked Darry.
"Read your answer in the skies," retorted Reade.
Though none of the other five boys had noticed it, the sky had
been gradually clouding. The wind was becoming brisker, too,
and there was more than the usual amount of moisture in the air.
"Pshaw! That's a shame," muttered Dick.
"I wish we might arrange it with the weather clerk to have it
rain at night, after ten o'clock, and have dry ground in the day
time," sighed Dave Darrin.
Yet none of the boys spoke the thought that was uppermost in more
than one mind---the wish that they might go over to the Bentley
camp to spend the time that it rained in the society of the girls.
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