"Each one can wish he had some tarts," finished Tom, and continued:

"Or pies, or cakes, or ice-cream rare-- Good things that make a fellow stare!"

"Don't mention ice-cream!" cried Fred. "Oh, but wouldn't it be fine on such a hot day as this?"

"No ice-cream in this poetry," came from Songbird. "Listen!" and he went on:

"The road doth wind by forests deep, Where soft the welcome shadows creep.

Down the valley, up the hill, And then beside the rippling rill.

The welcome flowers line the way, Throughout the livelong summer day, The birds are flitting to and fro--"

"They love to flit and flit, you know," came from the irrepressible Tom, and he added:

"The bullfrog hops around the marsh, His welcome note is rather harsh.

The lone mosquito shows his bill, And, boring deep, secures his fill."

"Hold on, there!" came from d.i.c.k. "I draw the line on mosquitoes in poetry. They can do their own singing."

"And stinging," added Fred gayly.

"Mape I vos make some boultry vonce, ain't it?" said Hans calmly.

"That's it, Hans," cried Sam. "Go ahead, by all means." And the German youth started:

"Der sky vos green, der gra.s.s vos plue-- I sit town to an oyster stew; Der pirds vos singing all der night-- You vill get choked of your collar is tight!

Oh, see der rooster scratching hay-- Ven der pand begins to blay!

At night der sun goes town to ped-- Und cofers mid clouds his old red head!

At night der moon she vinks at me--"

"--for making such bad poetree!" finished Tom, and added with a groan: "Hans, did you really make that all up by yourself?"

"Sure I did," was the proud answer.

"You must have had to eat an awful lot of mince pie to do it," put in Sam.

"Vot has mince bie to do mit boultry?"

"It's got a lot to do with such poetry as that," murmured Songbird in disgust.

"Oh, I know vots der madder. You vos jealous of me, hey?"

"Sure he is jealous, Hans," said d.i.c.k. "Songbird couldn't make up such poetry in a hundred years."

"It runs in der family," went on the German boy calmly. "Mine granfadder he vonce wrote a song. Da sung him py a funeral."

"Did it kill anybody?" asked Fred.

"Not much! It vos a brize song. He got a dollar for doing it."

"It must run in the family, like wooden legs among the soldiers,"

said Tom, and there the fun for the time being came to an end.

The road now ran up a hill, and then they came to a thick patch of timber. Before they left the timber, they rested for their mid-day lunch, camping out, as suited them.

"This is something like," remarked Fred. "I think it first-rate."

"It is very nice to be outdoors when it doesn't rain," answered d.i.c.k.

"How nice it would be if we had the girls along," said Sam.

"Oh, ho! Sam is pining for Grace!" cried Tom teasingly.

"Pooh! you needn't to blow," returned the youngest Rover, blushing.

"Last night you called out for Nellie in your sleep. You must have been dreaming of her."

"I'll dream you!" burst out Tom, getting as red as Sam had been, and he made a move as if to throw a cup of coffee at his brother.

"Children! children!" said d.i.c.k sweetly. "I am--er--amazed."

"He's sorry because you forgot to mention Dora," said the irrepressible Tom. "Now, Dora is just the cutest--"

"Avast, Tom, or you will get it," said d.i.c.k. "We haven't got the girls with us, so let us drop the subject."

It was very pleasant in the timber, and they did not leave until thoroughly rested. Near at hand was a small but pure stream, and here they washed up and watered their horses.

While the others were at the stream, Tom wandered off in the direction of the road. Now they saw him coming back full of excitement.

"Whom do you suppose I saw on the road?" he said.

"Give it up," returned Fred.

"Dan Baxter."

"Baxter!" came in a chorus.

"Yes. He was with that fellow who was at the hotel, the chap with the bushy hair," added Tom to d.i.c.k. "The man who asked so many questions."

"Were they on horseback?" asked Sam.

"Yes. When Baxter saw me, he looked frightened. I called to him to stop, but he wouldn't do it."

"Where were the pair going?" asked d.i.c.k with interest.

"In the same direction we are going."

"Perhaps we can catch up with them," went on d.i.c.k. "Anyway, it is worth trying."

A minute later all were in the saddle and on the trail once more.