“It’ll slip,” objected Johnny.
“No, ’twon’t!”
“Give me the wire, Rogue,” commanded Johnny.
The younger lad produced a piece of thin wire about two feet in length. At one end was a loop, and to this the bit of stout cord was fastened. Then, to the other end of the wire, Johnny attached a ball of cotton. Joe produced a bottle of coal oil.
“Whatever are you horrid boys going to do?” demanded Tavia, suddenly.
“Now, we’re not going to hurt the turtle,” explained her brother, calmly. “You needn’t fret. We’re going to get and bake Mr. Woodchuck. He’s proper game. Mr. Turtle may be scared for a minute, or two, but that’s all. He is a cold-blooded insect——”
“Insect! hear to him!” burst out Joe Dale, laughing uproariously.
“Oh—ah-ugh! I mean reptile,” grunted Johnny.
“That’s as bad as one of the fellows in school,” said Roger. “Teacher asked him what an oyster was, and he told her it was a fish built like a nut.”
“Goody!” chuckled Tavia. “So it is. But do you think this cold-blooded reptile—which is also a good deal like a nut—needs warming up, boys?”