“What’s the big idea?” he growled. “Having a tree right in my way. Wait till I go get an ax.”
Joe gained his feet and made a dash toward the house. But in one bound Bob brought him to the ground with a flying tackle that he had used so advantageously on the football field.
“Come clean!” roared Bob. “What’s the big idea, anyway? You’d better talk.”
“Not till I finish my stunt,” said Joe stoutly. “Not——Hey! Cut it out!”
Joe became choked with laughter as his chum’s hand pressed against his ribs. For Bob knew only too well that Joe was not a little ticklish.
“If I can’t get it out of you one way, I will another,” said Bob, never giving his chum an inch.
“Say! What are you ginks up to?”
On the instant Bob released his hold and wheeled about. Then a look of combined bewilderment and delight came on his face.
“Chubby Stevens!” he cried wildly, getting to his feet.
“It’s Chubby as sure as I’m born!” added Joe, displaying even more surprise. “Why, when did you get here?”