“I want you boys to quit calling Frank ‘Bad,’” said the doctor sternly. “He isn’t bad at all. He’s just extravagant in his talk.”
“I don’t care what they call me,” declared Frank, who was rather proud of his nickname.
“Just so we don’t call you down, eh?” Pickles amended.
“If you do, I’ll clean you up.”
Pickles was smaller than Bad and did not resent this threat. The doctor did not regard Frank’s talk very seriously and so did not remonstrate. He remembered similar experiences of his own and believed that hard knocks are a much better cure than constant preaching for the brag and bluff of a boy.
“Where’d you get that story?” inquired Byron Bowler, Bad’s one-year-older brother. “Make it up yourself?”
“No, Pepper helped me,” replied Hal. Pepperill Humphrey was an old servant of the doctor’s who had traveled with him much and followed his employer soon after the latter settled in Colorado. He was an interesting character, one of those old-style family servants who had grown up with the families for whom they worked.
“We worked it out together,” continued Hal.
“Did you put me in it or did Pepper?” inquired Frank.
“I didn’t know you were in it,” replied Hal with a mischievous grin plainly visible in the firelight.