cheap one, either, and we've
earned all the money ourselves. I don't suppose, Drayne, you
ever earned as much money in your life."

"I don't have to," scoffed Phin Drayne. "My father is able to
supply me with whatever money I need."

"Why!" uttered Dan Dalzell. "Our old Drayne is just another Timmy
Hinman of the regular kind, isn't he?"

Dan looked so comical when he made this observation that his five
chums burst into a shout of gleeful laughter.

Phin Drayne didn't relish that very sincere laughter. Though
he didn't understand the allusion, he suspected that he was being
made the butt of a joke by Dick & Co.

"Drive on, George," he requested his friend at the wheel. "One
hates to be seen in the company of such fellows."

The car's speed was let out several notches, and shot down the
road ahead of Dick & Co.'s plain little caravan.

"Now that I think of it," Dick declared, "Phin is just another
edition of Timmy Hinman, isn't he? And so are quite a good many
of the fellows we know. The world must be nearly as full of Timmy
Hinmans as it is of fathers either wealthy or well-to-do. I'd
hate to belong to the Timmy Hinman crowd!"

"As for me," sighed Tom comically, "I don't see any chance of
my becoming a Timmy until I'm able to do it on money accumulated
for myself."

As Phin Drayne was still in Gridley High School, and had an overweening
idea of himself as a football player, it is extremely likely that
we shall hear of him again, for which reason, if for no other,
we may as well dismiss him from these present pages.

A few more days of earnest hiking, followed by restful sleep in
camp at night, brought Dick & Co., one fine afternoon toward the
end of August, in sight of the spires of Gridley.

"There's the good old town!" called Dick, first to reach the rise
of ground from which the view of Gridley was to be had.

"Good old town, indeed!" glowed Dave Darrin.

"Whoop!" shouted Tom Reade irrepressibly. "Whoop! And then---whoop!"

Dalzell, as he stood still for a few moments, gazing ahead, grinned
broadly.

"He thinks his native town is a joke!" called Greg Holmes reproachfully.

"No," replied Dalzell, with a solemn shake of his head. "I am
the joke, and it's on Gridley for being my native town."

"I'm glad to be back---when I get there," announced Hazy. "I
shall be glad, even if for nothing more than the chance to rest
my feet."

"Nonsense!" Dick retorted. "You'll be out on Main Street,