crackers and a piece of bologna.
The doughnuts he had pocketed were gone long ago.

"Have a bite, Ruth?" he said generously. "I wish it was better, but I
didn't have much money, and Gran won't ever let me carry any lunch. She
says the proper place for a boy to eat is at his own table. It's there for
me, and if I don't get home to get it, then I can do without."

Ruth accepted a piece of the bologna and the crackers gravely. She baited
her hook with a piece of the bologna and caught a big, struggling carp.

"What do you know about that?" cried Curly, in disgust. "You could bait
your hook with a marble and catch a whopper, I believe!"

Meanwhile, Ruth was having a most delightful time. The roses had come back
into her cheeks at the first. Her eyes sparkled, and she "wriggled all
over," as she expressed it, "with just the _feel_ of spring."

She did not spend all her time fishing, but ran about and examined the
early plants and sprouting bushes, and woke up the first violets and
searched for May flowers, which, of course, she did not find. Squirrels
chattered at them, and a blue jay hung about, squalling, evidently hoping
for crumbs from their lunch. Only there were no crumbs of Curly's frugal
bologna and crackers left.

When the sun was in mid-heaven the boy confessed to being as hungry as
ever, and tightened his belt. "Crackers don't stick to your ribs much," he
grumbled.

Ruth calmly began opening her box. Curly looked at her askance.

"You aren't figgering on going home _now_, are you?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I sha'n't go home till you do."

Then she produced from the box sandwiches, deviled eggs, a jelly roll, a
jar of peanut butter, crackers, olives, and some more of Mrs. Smith's good
doughnuts.

"Old Scratch!" Curly ejaculated. "You're the best fellow to go fishing
with, Ruth Fielding, that I ever saw. You can come to _my_ parties any
time you like."

They spent the whole day delightfully and, tired, scratched, and not a
little wind-burned, Ruth tramped home behind Curly in good season for
supper at Mrs. Sadoc Smith's.

She did not tell the boy that the whole outing had been arranged the night
before with his grandmother before Ruth herself went to bed. Curly
expected to be "called down," as he expressed it, by his grandmother when
they arrived home. To his amazement they were met cheerfully and ushered
in to a bounteous supper on which Mrs. Smith had expended no little
thought and time.

Curly was st