As they were going through the woods, along a path that led over
the fields to the outskirts of the town, they saw a boy stretched out on
a log. His eyes were closed and he seemed asleep.
"It's Jim Morton," said Bart. "What's he doing here? I thought he was too
lazy to walk this far," for Jim had the reputation of disliking exertion
of any kind.
"Hello, Jim!" called Ned. "What you doing here?"
"Waiting for you," replied Jim.
"For me?"
"All three of you. Got a message."
"What is it? Speak up! Don't be all day about it," exclaimed Bart.
"Judge Benton gave me a quarter to come out here and see if I could find
any of you chums."
"What does he want? Whom does he want?"
"He wants Frank Roscoe," went on Jim, in drawling tones. "Wants to
see him right away. Important business he said. That's all I know. I
was to tell Frank if I saw him, or if not, any of you boys. I've done
my part, and earned the quarter, I guess. Now don't bother me, I'm
going to sleep," and Jim turned over on the log as if that was all
there was to it.
"But what's it about? Why can't you tell us more?" asked Bart.
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