Bumpus looked all around, and then went on to remark again:
“But he wouldn’t feel just like letting loose on us because you went and stuffed his ballot-box, would he? If he’s as smart a man as you said, after having been to school, he’d guess that we had some good reason for wanting to communicate with him in this way; ain’t that so, Thad?”
“Just as you say, Bumpus; and make your mind easy, we’ll not be bothered again by Ricky,” the scout-master assured him. “He’ll get my letter, and understand that we are not here to do him any injury.”
“And Bumpus,” remarked Smithy, “I just want to say that I couldn’t have put that remark in better English than you did, even if I tried my best. They say that associations will tell in the long run.”
“Don’t plume yourself so much, Smithy,” jeered Davy; “don’t we also learn at school how ‘evil communications corrupt good manners?’ First thing you know we’ll be finding that you use slang; and maybe won’t change your old suit when it’s just so rank of onions and fishy odors from cooking, that all your mates are groaning to beat the band. Some things are as ketching as the measles, they say.”
“Then when the fever strikes you, Giraffe,” ventured Bumpus quickly, seeing his chance, “maybe you’ll give me a rest, and turn on Davy here.”
“Huh!” was all Giraffe returned to this sly dig; but he grinned as though satisfied to have made the fat scout speak out.
“It’s on again now, I suppose, Tom Smith?” remarked Allan.
“Yep, an’ right heah we makes summat o’ a turn, so that from now on we don’t reckon tuh keep headin’ in ther direction o’ Ricky’s still. He’ll foller us arter he gits yuh letter, suh; till he sees as how we ain’t calc’latin’ tuh close in on his leetle island still in the heart o’ theh swamp. Then like as not he’ll make up his mind they beant anythin’ tuh skeer ’bout long o’ we-uns, an’ quit botherin’.”
“And I say a good riddance of bad rubbish when he takes that same notion,” declared Bob White.