"Where do I come in?" he asked rather plaintively, after the fashion of the unfortunate one who was usually being left out.
"Plenty of room back there in the wagon, Tubby!" chuckled Rob.
"Use the sack of oysters for a seat if you want to!" added Andy.
"Can't you move over and make room for one more?" pleaded the fat scout.
"We might if it was for a Living Skeleton, but not for the Fat Boy of the Side Show," was Merritt's reply. And so Tubby was compelled to climb into the body of the wagon, and sit down as best he could on the hard bed.
"Please don't make the nag gallop, boys," he asked as a particular favor; "because if you do he'll swing the wagon around every-which-way, and there's no telling what would happen to me. I guess I've got feelings, if I do happen to measure a little more around the waist than anybody else present."
"A little!" jeered Andy. "You must mean as much as the whole three of us put together, don't you, Tubby?"
"Forget it," mumbled the other; for already the vehicle had begun to move. As Merritt whipped the tired horse, it gave a jump forward that caused Tubby to roll over on his back the first thing, and then clutch wildly at the sides of the wagon, as though in mortal terror lest he be tossed out and left there on the road to walk home.
"This is something like a treat, after tramping along for a whole mile, and with that heavy sack into the bargain," Rob declared, as they began to make fair progress in the direction of the home town.
"Talk to me about your good luck," ventured Andy, who sat on the other end of the seat from the driver, "it seems to me the Eagles are always having things happen to them that never would come to other fellows."