"And Dick will be here soon." Dick reappeared within five minutes.

He had taken two buckets and had gone to a spring at some distance from camp for water.
"Dick," said Greg, "there's Tom on the ground on the other side of that tree.

He's growling like a Teddy bear because no one has opened the box." "I think we'd better open it," nodded Prescott, after glancing at the faces of the others, for he saw that their curiosity was at fever heat.
"Hooray!" yelled Greg.

"Come on, fellows!" There was a rush for the hammer and cold chisel, but young Holmes won.
"You pry the lid up on one side, and then give me a chance at the other side," proposed Tom Reade.
But Greg, smiling quietly, soon had the entire lid off the box.
Nothing but a lot of multi-colored, curly packing paper met their gaze.
"The world destroyer must be underneath this ton of rubbish," grunted Darry, kneeling and prying the strings of paper out.
At last he delved down to a parcel wrapped in stout manila paper and securely tied with cord.
"Cut the strings," advised Reade, passing Dave a pocket knife with one blade open.
Darrin, however, had lifted the parcel out to lay it on the ground.
It was fairly heavy, but Dave handled it with ease.

Now he cut the strings.