“But ain’t we goin’ to jump on that pair of scamps, and make ’em our prisoners?” complained Buster; and to hear his ferocious way of talking one might easily imagine that the fat boy was a fighter from the word go, when as a rule Buster would walk a mile to escape a rumpus, for he was by nature very peaceable.
“Wait and see what Jack’s got up his sleeve, you fire-eater!” remarked Josh, scornfully.
“We know where they’ve gone and buried all the loot, anyhow,” remarked George, as though that fact gave him particular satisfaction.
“And we c’n dig the same up at our convenience,” added Herb.
“That is, if they don’t change their minds before morning comes, and get that box up again,” observed Jack, dryly.
At that there were several little grunts and exclamations, such as would indicate that the others did not relish being tantalized in such a fashion having the treasure-trove under their thumbs, only to see it snatched away again.
“Say, we oughtn’t to let that chance slip us, Jack!” urged Josh.
“Them’s my sentiments, too!” echoed George.
“Count me in,” Herb remarked, quietly.