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Chapman, Allen [pseud.]

"Or Winning the Ferberton Prize"

"That's bully slap-stick
work all right. You have a movie star beat a mile already."
"Say, cut out the comedy, will you, Herb?" asked Joe impatiently.
"I want to hear about this great idea of Bob's."
"I didn't say it was great, did I?" demanded Bob modestly. "It's
just an idea, that's all."
"Well, shoot," demanded Herb laconically.
Bob was silent for a moment, wondering just how he could best express
the thought that had suddenly come to him; just a little afraid that
the others might laugh at him. And where is the boy who does not dread
being laughed at more than anything else in the world?
The day had been unusually warm for the time of the year, and the
radio boys, turning their backs upon the town, had started out for
a long hike into the woods. The heat, together with a visit to the
doughnut jar just before meeting the boys, had wearied Jimmy, and
he had been the first to suggest a rest. And so, having come across
a talkative little brook, hidden deep in the heart of the woodland,
the boys had been content to follow Jimmy's suggestion.
Sprawled on the mossy ground in various ungraceful, though comfortable
positions, the boys lazily watched the hurrying little brook, throwing
a pebble into it now and then and talking of the thing that almost
always filled their minds these days--their radio outfits.


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