"Nothing lost but honour," added Yan. "Who's the kid?"
"Oh, that's Guy Burns. I know him. He's a mean little cuss, always sneaking and peeking. Lies like sixty. Got the prize—a big scrubbing-brush—for being the dirtiest boy in school. We all voted, and the teacher gave it to him."
Next day the boys made another war party for Birch bark, but had hardly begun operations when there was an uproar not far away, and a voice, evidently of a small boy, mouthing it largely, trying to pass itself off as a man's voice: "Hi, yer the —— ——. Yer git off my —— —— place —— ——"
"Le's capture the little cuss, Yan."
"An' burn him at the stake with horrid torture," was the rejoinder.
They set out in his direction, but again the appearance of Burns changed their war-party onslaught into [220] a rapid retreat.
(More opprobrium.)
During the days that followed the boys were often close to the boundary, but it happened that Burns was working near and Guy had the quickest of eyes and ears. The little rat seemed ever on the alert. He soon showed by his long-distance remarks that he knew all about the boys' pursuits—had doubtless visited the camp in their absence. Several times they saw him watching them with intense interest when they were practising with bow and arrow, but he always retreated to a safe distance when discovered, and then enjoyed himself breathing out fire and slaughter.
One day the boys came to the camp at an unusual hour. On going into a near thicket Yan saw a bare foot under some foliage. "Hallo, what's this?" He stooped down and found a leg to it and at the end of that Guy Burns.