“I s’pose not, boys,” replied the tall scout, sadly; “we’ll have to do without the appetizing onion after this; but it’s going to be hard on me. My appetite’ll fall away, and you’ll see me getting thinner and thinner every day.”
“Well, we can use you for a bread knife then,” remarked Bumpus, composedly; “because if you grew much sharper than you are, that’s about the only thing you’d be good for. But if them onions smell so rank, what’s the use of throwing the same away, when we’ll be apt to know they’re around all night. They ought to be put underground, don’t you think, Thad?”
“That’s a good idea, Bumpus; give me the camp hatchet, and I’ll dig a grave over here, so we can have a regular burial. Form in line, fellows, for the ceremony.”
Entering into the spirit of the occasion the whole eight scouts formed into a procession, and with Thad in the lead, bearing the hatchet in one hand, and the condemned bag of soft onions in the other, held as far away from his nose as possible, they started to walk solemnly along, heading for a spot that the leader had picked out as suitable for the ceremony of burial.
And as they thus stalked along the boys began to chant in unison that old song: “John Brown’s body lies amouldering in the grave, as we go marching on!”
And so, with the hatchet a hole was speedily excavated, and the offending object placed therein; after which the earth was hastily scraped over, until six inches of soil rested upon the bag.
“There, that’s what I call a good job!” remarked Giraffe, with a relieved look on his face, as they started back to where the fire burned merrily. “It’ll seem like another world, now that we won’t have to keep sniffing around all the time.”
“Yes, and saying all sorts of mean things about my bully old suit that’s stood by me through thick and thin, until I’ve just come to love the same!” Bumpus up and told the chief offender.
“Oh! well, let it go at that, Bumpus,” muttered the tall scout. “A fellow is apt to get on the wrong trail once in a while, you know; even Thad here will do that same. We thought we was right, and acted accordingly. And now we’ll give you a little rest, though we’d all be glad if you did make up your mind to change that greasy old suit for your spic and span clean one. Guess you’ll take a notion that way some fine day, won’t you?”
“Huh! keep on guessing!” grunted Bumpus; though he appeared to be wearing a perpetual grin, now that his innocence seemed to have been so amply proven.