“Yes, when he had that fight with Bucktooth Slither, and Johnnie Green and the Indians beat the war drum. Then I thought Uncle Tod was frightened, but it was only put on. He had a reason for it.”
“Then you think he has a reason now?” asked Chot.
“I reckon so. But still it’s kind of funny—that marked bullet and the stone and the cabbage leaf. But come on over to-night and maybe he’ll tell us about it.”
“I will,” promised Chot. “So long!”
“So long! See you later! Here, Ruddy, you let that cat alone!” and Rick shouted at his dog who showed a desire to chase a lone feline up a tree.
Disappointed, Ruddy turned back to join his master and soon boy and setter were on their way home in the pleasant afternoon sunshine.
“Hope they have a good supper,” murmured Rick to himself as he trudged along. “I’m as hungry as a dogfish!”
His exercise in the salt water, the tang of the air that blew in from the sea and his general hungry condition at this time of day combined to make Rick aware of a gone feeling in his stomach.
“Hello, Mazie!” he called to his sister as he entered the kitchen and saw her busy setting the table. “Give us a cookie; will you?” he begged.
“You shouldn’t eat just before supper,” objected Mazie.