"That will do, Stacy," rebuked Ned.
"Yassir," mimicked Stacy, whereat the boys burst out laughing. There was no resisting Stacy Brown's droll way of saying things. Stacy was a natural comedian, but whether or not he was aware of this, none but himself knew.
There were no waffles left when the boys finished their supper. The clouds had been gathering all the afternoon, and just as they sat back for a comfortable chat on full stomachs, little spatters of rain gave promise of a wet night.
"You see," reminded Tad, nodding to his companions and glancing up to the sky.
"We don't see much, but we feel. I guess you were right at that, Tad," agreed Ned Rector.
"Tad's always right when he isn't wrong," observed Stacy solemnly.
"And you are usually wrong when you are not right," retorted Butler quickly.
"Laying all levity aside, I wish to ask if you young men know where you are," interrupted the Professor.
"Yassir," answered Stacy promptly.
"I suppose we are in the Smoky Pass of the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina, sir," replied Tad.