“D––n good, you mean!” corrected Jack. “Hey, fellows!” he cried, “did you hear what Humble said? He said that he’d bet it was real good!”
“Horray for Humble, the wit of the Star C,” laughed Docile.
“Me for the apricot pie!” exulted Charley. “Here’s where I get square on Blake for rubbing it in all these months about the fine pie he gets over here.”
“There ain’t no apricot pie,” gravely lied the sheriff in surprise.
“What!” cried Charley in alarm. “There ain’t none for me! Oh, well, you can’t lose me in daylight, for I’ll double up on everything else. I ain’t going to get left, all right!”
“Don’t wake me up,” begged Joe Haines. “Let me dream on in peace and plenty. Grub, real, genuine grub, grub what is grub! Oh, joy!”
Mrs. Shields hurried into the room and then paused in surprise when she saw that the outfit had not moved toward the feast.
“Land sakes!” she cried. “Aren’t you boys hungry, or is James up to some of his everlasting teasing again!”
“You talk to her, Bud,” whispered Jim eagerly. “I’m so scary I shore can’t.”
“Yes, go ahead, Bud!” came instant and unanimous endorsement in whispers.