One end of the tent was suddenly raised.
“Do you want another ducking?” demanded the angry voice of Ned Rector.
“If you’re man enough to give it to me,” returned the fat boy.
Ned came tumbling out, but by the time he had straightened up, Stacy was nowhere in sight. The fat boy had stolen in among the trees whence he watched the progress of events. Ned returned to his tent in disgust. No further objection was heard from the Professor as to Chunky’s vocal exercises.
“There’s no use trying to sleep with that boy bawling away out there. What does he think he is, a bird?” demanded Tad.
“Sounds more like a hoot owl, the bird he was telling us about,” averred Ned.
“I guess I’ll get up. So long as he is abroad there will be no more rest in this camp for the rest of the night.”
97“Won’t he catch cold? He must be all wet,” said Walter solicitously.
“I hope to goodness he does,” retorted Rector. “I hope he gets such a cold that he can’t speak for a week. Then we’ll have some peace.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t put it quite so strongly as that,” laughed Tad. “However, I guess he will get the cold all right.”