"I told you I could do it," Bandy-legs exultantly declared when they complimented him on his success; "there isn't much I couldn't do if only I really and truly set out to try."
"I w-w-wish then you'd just make up your m-m-mind to try how strong that hickory s-s-sapling is," urged Toby, entreatingly. "It'd give me a h-h-heap of satisfaction to j-j-just satisfy my mind. You'd be about as h-h-hefty as a wolf or a tiger, you s-s-see; and if it dragged you up all r-r-right, it ought to w-w-work with them. P-p-please accommodate me, Bandy-legs."
But apparently his coaxing was of no avail.
"I'd like to do it all right, Toby, but while I'm not tired now like I was before, it's too soon after supper to be yanked around, and turned upside-down that way," Bandy-legs explained, seeming to be very reluctant.
"L-later on, mebbe, then?"
"Why, er, I'm afraid it might wake me up too much just before going to my blanket, you see, Toby. It's a bad thing to get too active when you ought to be hitting the hay, and feel dopey. I've heard my dad say so lots of times. Keeps you wakeful all through the first part of the night. But that trap's all right, I'm tellin' you, Toby. If only some animal big enough to jerk the bow free comes along and sets his hind foot in your loop, you're going to hear something drop."
"I know what I'm meaning to do," said Steve, firmly; "and that's to keep my gun handy, so if we get waked up by a lot of screeching, like the world was coming to an end, I'll be ready to crawl out and wind up the career of the escaped menagerie beast, whatever it turns out to be."
"D-d-don't you be too q-q-quick on the trigger, Steve," pleaded Toby. "G-g-give us all a chance first to see what it's l-l-like. Mebbe we might want to keep it alive."
"What for?" demanded Steve, aggressively.
"A p-p-pet," replied Toby; "lots of p-p-people have pets, and think what it'd mean to me if I g-g-got a h-h-hyena in a c-c-cage."