"Shake hands. We will take a fresh start, Chunky," said Ned, extending a friendly hand.
Chunky regarded Ned suspiciously. He wondered what Rector had in mind to induce him to become so friendly all at once. As it chanced Ned felt that perhaps he had been rather too hard on the fat boy. But the fat boy had never thought of it in that light. Each was supposed to take the jokes played on him and without losing his temper. As a rule each one did, though Chunky seemed to get more than his share of such abuse. Perhaps he brought his troubles on himself.
"Well, if I am going to have charge of you, Stacy, I think I'll take you out in the woods where you can't do any damage to any one but myself. Bring your gun and we'll go shooting."
"My rifle?"
"No. Your pistol."
"That suits me. I am too delicate to tote a rifle around on my shoulder all day."
"Be back early, and do not go far away," ordered the professor.
"Shoot off a rifle if you want us before we get back," suggested Tad.
"Which way are you going?" asked Ned.
"South. Which way do you go?"