“Andy would look like a little-neck clam under its shell,” chuckled Merritt.
“Well, you can’t always gauge the quality of the goods by the size of the package they come in,” chortled Andy, “look at Tubby, for instance. He——”
But the fat boy suddenly projected himself on the little bugler. But Andy, though small, was tough as a roll of barbed wire. He resisted the fat lad’s attack successfully and the two struggled all over the level place on which the camp had been pitched.
Finally, however, they approached so near to the edge that Rob interfered.
“You’ll roll down the slope into the lake in another minute,” he said. “Two baths a day would be too much for Tubby. Besides, he’d raise the water and swamp the canoes.”
The fat youth, with a pretence of outraged dignity, sought his tepee and engaged himself in cleaning his twenty-two rifle. After a while, though, he emerged from his temporary obscurity, and joined the group about the fire, who were happily discussing plans.
“One good thing is that we have plenty of arms,” volunteered Hiram, “in case Hunt and his gang attack us we can easily keep them off.”
“Good gracious!” exclaimed the professor, “surely you don’t contemplate any such unlawful acts, major?”
“As shooting at folks you mean,” laughed the major. “No indeed, my dear professor. But if those rascals attack us I hope we shall be able to tackle them without any other weapons than those nature has given us.”
“I owe Freeman Hunt a good punch,” muttered Tubby. “I’d like to make the dust fly around his heels with this rifle.”