“Mine wasn’t,” said Nelson. “It cost forty dollars. Say, what’s the matter with Barry?”
The terrier was running excitedly about, smelling and sniffing and giving vent to short yelps. Once or twice he started off through the trees as though nothing could stop him. But each time he turned back, whining, and began sniffing the ground again.
“Barry’s got the fellow’s scent,” said Nelson.
“And the fellow’s got every cent of mine,” said Dan.
“Gee!” said Tom sorrowfully, “I don’t see anything to ju-ju-joke about!”
“Hello!” Bob stooped and picked up a piece of paper. It was part of an envelope which had inclosed a letter to Nelson and had reposed in that youth’s coat pocket. On the blank side a few words had been laboriously scrawled with a pencil.
“‘I gess this wil tech you Not to But in,’” read Bob slowly.
“What’s that mean?” asked Dan.
“Search me,” said Nelson. “Who’s butted in?”