MR. BLACKBEARD, THE GIANT
It was with much growling and sleepy sulkiness that Soapy Gaines crawled down from his seat in the Roadster while Pickton and Fred were opening camp equipage and making ready for the night. By the lamps of the car he viewed their labors for a minute or two, drowsily grumbling the while, then putting a light motor robe over his head and shoulders threw himself on the grass heavily.
"Ow! Murder! I'm killed!" came frantic screams from young Mr. Gaines the next instant. "Ow! I'm—I'm killed dead!"
If "killed" Soapy was, however—to say nothing of his being killed "dead"—his actions were certainly extraordinary. He rolled over and over, then jumped to his feet, again calling out in greatest distress that he was "killed," and ending with the declaration in tones both loud and angry, "Never saw such crazy idiots! Let me jump into thorns a yard long and never say 'Look out!' Somebody'll get it for this, I'll bet, now you see!"
As a matter of fact there had chanced to be a considerable heap of thorny branches from the hedge buried in the tall grass at the precise spot where Gaines had thrown himself. They found him out in several places, piercing his back and legs painfully. And although his injuries were, of course, not at all serious, he seemed somehow not to take this fact into consideration.
He hopped about—"like a crazy war dance," Fred Perth muttered—then frantically sought to examine the damage sustained by the glare of the headlights. All the while he was saying things, some of which were not exactly complimentary to those addressed, and vowing vengeance on someone or something, he apparently did not know what.
Perth could scarcely suppress a laugh but Pickton was more in a mood to express some very decided opinions as the two helped Gaines assure himself that none of the thorns were still lodged in his flesh—an assurance he seemed very reluctant to accept.
"Anyhow, it shows us we'll have to be right careful about the tires. We'd have to pump them up again," observed Perth with a grin.
But Soapy saw nothing funny in the remark and quite pointedly said as much. And it was not until Pickton had explored a spot nearer the car, on his own hands and knees, and so proved that it was wholly safe, that the sadly spoiled member of the party could be persuaded to stretch himself in a blanket there and so fall asleep.
In a little while the other two of the somewhat discordant, though self-named "Chosen" Trio had done the same.