“But I may catch cold. You oughtn’t to do a thing like this, boys,” pleaded Frank.
“Oh, listen to him!” mocked Bascome. “Let’s take him back to his mama!” and he imitated the crying of a baby.
“Oh, but, fellows, just consider,” begged the intended victim. “I—I may be drowned,” and his teeth seemed to chatter. “Please—please let me go!”
“Oh, yes—with bells on!” cried Holly, with a laugh.
“Say, I thought you said he’d make mincemeat of ’em?” whispered Phil. “Why, he’s a coward!”
“Maybe,” admitted Tom, somewhat puzzled. “I didn’t think he’d beg off like this.”
“Pshaw! It’s going to be a fizzle,” declared Sid.
“Now, then, all ready?” asked Dutch of his chums. “Get good holds, Holly and Bascome, and pitch him in.”
“Oh, let me go! Please let me go!” begged Simpson.