“You’ll need your ‘old ombrell’ when we have done with you,” cried Ned.
“You will wake us up at this hour with your unearthly screeching, will you?” demanded Tad.
“I reckon the Professor will give you a spanking for disturbing his morning slumbers,” added Walter Perkins.
“That’s enough, fellows. Remember the water is cold,” warned Butler. “Let him go.”
They took Tad literally. They did let the fat boy go. He landed on his head on a hard rock when they let go of him, and Stacy rolled on his back yelling lustily.
94“Look out! There comes the Professor Stacy.”
Walter shouted the warning just in time. Professor Zepplin, stern of face, gorgeous in a pair of new pajamas, a stick in one hand came stalking toward the group. Stacy saw him coming. The fat boy bounded to his feet in a hurry. He was especially interested in the cedar limb with its sharp broken points, grasped so firmly in the right hand of the Professor.
“I reckon I’ll see you all later,” muttered Chunky as he made a bolt for his tent. Either some one tripped him or he tripped himself. At least, he measured his length on the ground just as the stick came in contact with his body. It was not a hard blow, but merely a tap of reminder. The Professor was now smiling broadly.
Stacy leaped to his feet and ran, howling at the top of his voice, and threatening dire revenge on the Professor. Professor Zepplin was plainly undismayed, for he pursued with strides that made the merry onlookers think of the seven-league boots.
“Say, can’t we arbitrate, without an appeal to force?” bellowed back Stacy as he reached the tent.