"I—I wanted to call the bees."
"Why?"
"I—I thought maybe they'd sting the Indian."
"Did they?" asked Tad.
"They did! They pinked him right in the back of the neck, and you ought to have heard that Indian yell." Stacy was looking them in the face now, as he warmed to his subject. "John Charles jumped about fourteen and a half feet in the air and let out a war whoop. I'm surprised you folks didn't hear him."
"Where were you all this time?" interjected Rector.
"I was hiding in the tent, 'cause the bees were pretty thick, and the boss bee was scouting for me. I—I guess he must have smelled the oil on my fingers."
The Professor's fingers closed over the arm of the fat boy.
"Stacy!" he said sternly. "What do you think we ought to do with you?"
"Well," reflected the fat boy, "I reckon you ought to cook me a bear steak and give me a spread. I'm half starved."