“Oh! joy! joy!” cried Giraffe, upon hearing this great news.
“Thad, we all look on you as a public benefactor!” Bob White chipped in; though thus far he had said very little about the annoyance the strange odor was causing them; because he was a boy of few words as a rule; and then again, he had not been compelled to remain in the same boat, or sleep under the same canvas as the scout on whose soiled garments suspicion had fallen.
“The best news I’ve heard in many a long day!” declared Smithy.
“Now!” was all Davy Jones gave utterance to, but the word was uttered with what seemed to be almost savage satisfaction; and his eyes at the time were turned full on poor Bumpus, who of course squirmed uneasily in his seat by the fire, where he was fixing the coffee, and looked unhappy, as well as anxious.
“Please go on and tell us, Mr. Scout-master!” called out Step Hen; “if this old stuffy cold in the head I’ve got from Bumpus has kept me from having the pleasure of enjoying the mystery with you all, I’ve sure heard enough grunting and complaining to excite my curiosity to the limit. What’s the answer?”
“Gather around, then,” said Thad; and they began to form a circle; “here, we want you too, Bumpus, so leave your coffee-making, while you listen, and give your vote; for if the majority decides I’m right, we won’t be bothered any more with an unpleasant neighbor.”
“Say, I hope you don’t mean to kill him?” remarked Davy, pretending to shoot a glance of brotherly commiseration in the direction of the fat scout; “or chase him out of the camp to herd by himself.”
But somehow Bumpus had taken new courage from what he heard Thad remark, and as he came shuffling up with the rest, he was saying to himself:
“Huh! think you’re smart, don’t you, Davy Jones, but just wait. Who’s afraid, anyway?”
“All here, Thad!” sang out Allan, impatiently.