"Just for one little thing, you're not telling us what happened to you last night after you let a lot of strange men chase you out of Dick's street." "They didn't chase me off the street!" declared Tom indignantly.
"Then what did happen ?" quizzed Danny Grin.
"They all tried to beat me in a foot race," Tom declared, "and I put it all over them!" "Yet someone must have passed you, or got in front of you," teased Greg.

"Look at the bruise on your face, and your knuckles." "Oh, that happened when-----" began Tom, then paused abruptly.
"Yes, yes," pressed Danny Grin.

"Tell us about it." "All right," agreed Tom, "I will.

You see, when I got home and into bed, I had a sort of nightmare.

Just suppose, for instance, that the mark on my face is where the nightmare kicked me and that I skinned my knuckles against the bedstead when I tried to jump over the bed to return the nightmare's kick." "Tom Reade," called Dave sternly, "hold up your right hand!" "Look out, Darry! You're not going to ask Tom to swear to the truth of a yarn like that, are you ?" asked Dick anxiously.
"You may let your hand down again, young man," decided Dave, and Tom, as his hand reached his side, heaved a sigh expressive of great relief.
"Now, have you fellows got your tackle all ready ?" Dick went on.
"Remember the different things in the way of tackle that each of us was to bring." The others assured their leader that the matter of tackle had been attended to.
"Then your bedding and your clothing are the only other matters to be considered," Dick went on, "as we're to travel light." "As we don't take a horse along," suggested Tom, "then I take it that we are not going to carry any planking for a tent floor." "We can't very well do that," Dick answered him.