The members of the Yale Gun Club were rapidly coming on the ground, together with a number of noted New Haven shots and others interested in trap shooting. Browning and Rattleton appeared, and Diamond, Dismal, and several others of Merry's set were seen approaching.
"I thought Bart Hodge was sick?" said Tilton Hull. "But I see he is out again."
"When I heard he wath thick I hoped he would never get well. He ith a howwid cwecher! Whenever I go near him he thnapth at me like a bulldog."
"As if you were a bulldog?" queried Skelding, who at times seemed to delight in teasing certain members of this delectable set.
"The idea!" exclaimed Ollie Lord indignantly, putting a hand caressingly on Veazie's shoulder. "A bulldog! If Veazie is anything, he is like the cunning little dog I had once. It was the darlingest little poodle! and I simply loved it!"
"Just fawncy!" sniffed Willis Paulding.
But Lew Veazie seemed pleased. He put up a hand to touch the caressing arm.
"You're another, Ollie!" he beamed. "I always did like poodles!"
"A pair of poodles!" said Skelding, and again winked meaningly at Rupert, who snatched the cap from the head of Julian Ives and flung it into the air. Skelding took a snap-shot at it as it fell.
"If that cap is damaged," said Ives, smoothing his precious bang which the brisk breeze began to flirt about, "I'll make you fellows pay for it. That's flat!"