“We met a chap on a bicycle from a summer place up Crown Point way—said he was hunting for a hand-bag a lady left on a stone wall—auto broke down and she sat on the wall to wait for them to fix it.”
“I haven’t it,” called one Hyena.
“You can search me,” said another.
“Guess she’ll never see it again.”
“Oh, she may, you can’t tell; the bicycle chap may find it. Nobody’s likely to have noticed it on a stone wall at night—it’s early yet. Honest, didn’t you hear anything of that Oakwood chap?”
“Didn’t we tell you, no?”
“Gone back to the log jam, I guess. The kid’ll be awful disappointed. He’s got the bee in his bonnet that his friend’s as clever as he is,—he’s a mighty nice little fellow.”
“Sure, it’s fun to see him grin when you jolly him. Wade’s stuck on him, all right.”
“Yes, and he’s got Al hypnotized.”
By this time the Hyenas were dragging themselves heavily from their cots and sleepily aiding the conversation.