“Soak him!”
“Traitor!”
“Put him out!”
“Roll him under the sofa!”
“That’ll do for you, Dutch!”
These were only some of the things that Tom and his mates called at the big guard as he went on slandering the precious chair. Frank Simpson sat an amused witness of the little scene.
“It was pretty big, wasn’t it?” he ventured, at length. “That chair, I mean.”
“As if we were talking of anything else,” retorted Phil. “Yes, it was big and heavy and clumsy—about fifty years old, I guess, and it disappeared just before the clock went off on a vacation, and came back so unexpectedly. By the way, fellows, we’re as far from that mystery as ever.”
“Don’t speak of it!” begged Sid.