It was. It had rained until nearly dinner time, and grass and leaves were still beaded with moisture which an ardent April sun was doing its best to burn away. It was the first spring-like day in over a week of typical April weather during which Clearfield had remained under gray skies. Fudge assented to Perry's observation, but it was to be seen that his thoughts were elsewhere. His lips moved soundlessly. Perry viewed him with surprise and curiosity, but before he could demand an explanation of his host's abstraction Fudge burst forth triumphantly.
"'B-b-bees!'" exclaimed Fudge. (Excitement always caused him to stammer, a fact which his friends were aware of and frequently made use of for their entertainment.) Perry involuntarily ducked his head and looked around.
"Where?" he asked apprehensively.
"Nowhere." Fudge chuckled. "I was just thinking of something."
"Huh!" Perry settled back again. "You're crazy, I guess. Better come for a walk and you'll feel better."
"Can't." Fudge looked gloomily at the books. "Got to study."
"Then I'll beat it."
"Hold on, can't you? You don't have to go yet.
3
