“Well, we would, Bill,” he went on to say, “if we thought you had a clean bill; but it strikes us both that in this affair you’re away off your trolley. These boys didn’t have anything to do with the hurts of the dog, they say, and we can’t prove they did. So we’d best clear out.”
“Good for you, Whalen!” remarked Darrel. “And let me say right now, that if there’s any suspicious business attempted while you’re up here in this section of the Big Woods, you’re apt to get a pack of my lumberjacks hot on your trail. You’d better go slow about what you do. They’d as soon give you a coat of tar and feathers as not.”
Whalen did not make any answer. Apparently he and his companion felt ashamed of being caught in association with the bully.
Seeing that he was deserted by his friends, Nackerson realized that there was now nothing left for him to do but to give up. He was a hard loser, Frank saw, as he noted the muscles of the man’s face working.
“Oh, I’m going to clear out, Mr. Darrel,” he said, trying to speak contemptuously; “there are times when it’s policy to knuckle down. This is one of them, I reckon. But Bill Nackerson doesn’t throw up the sponge as easy as all that. Just wait. You or these young cubs here may be sorry for this.”
“Be careful how you make threats, Nackerson,” warned the lumberman. “They may be brought home to you later on, if anything does happen to these boys here.”
“Oh, I’m not threatening!” the other hastened to say. “That’s something I always try to keep from doing, and I want you to know it. But all the same, you may think of this time, and be sorry you rubbed it in so hard; that’s all.”
“Come along, Bill,” urged the man called Whalen, as though fearing that unless they got their boisterous companion moving he might bring matters to an open rupture yet.
“Sure, I’ll go with you, Cass Whalen, even if you have deserted a pal when he was up against it. I won’t forget that, either. I’ve got a long memory for such things, I have. And mark me, Mr. Darrel, I’ll often see this hour again as I think of how you insulted me. That’s all I’ve got to say.”
He wheeled in his tracks, gave a kick at his dog that started the poor beast to yelping again, and the party moved off, leaving the chums and Mr. Darrel exchanging looks of unbounded relief.