“I don’t believe it.”
“All right then,” and the Irish lad tossed his head into the air. “I wasn’t goin’ to spoil——”
“Teddy, you’re drawing on your imagination,” burst in Link. “But we’ll let it pass.”
“Wait till I’m after gettin’ square,” said Teddy, and put up one finger warningly.
“Never mind, the song was O. K.,” said Fred. “Did your father really make it up?”
“And what’s the end of the second verse?” queried Link.
“No, me father had nothin’ to do wid it. I got it out of an old joke book, an’ I’ve forgotten the end of it. That’s the reason I made up an endin’.”
“Three cheers for Teddy, the acrobatic songster,” cried Fred, and the cheers were given with a will. The cheers put the Irish lad in a better humor; but it was a long time before he forgot how they had played Indian on him.
“What’s all the cheering about?” asked Joel Runnell, as they came back to camp, Link and Harry having first wiped the red mud off their faces and hidden away the feathers and blankets.
“We’ve been initiating Teddy into a secret society,” said Link.