“All right; never mind what the boarding-house is called, Kid,” said Dan. “Fire ahead!”
“I’d met him now and then at the post-office, you know. Well, this morning, when I came out with the mail, he was there——”
“Were there any letters for me?” asked Dan eagerly. Then he retired to a safe distance, and waited for his pursuers to become absorbed again in the narrative.
“‘Say,’ he said, ‘Wickasaw put it on to you fellows good and hard, didn’t they?’ ‘How did they?’ says I. ‘Oh, you don’t know anything about it, do you?’ says he. And of course I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to let on to him.”
“Foxy kid!” murmured Dan.
“‘Oh, that!’ I says; ‘that’s nothing! Any one could do that!’”
“Good for you, Rooke!” his audience laughed.
“Well, pretty soon I found out what he was talking about. And what do you think those chumps have done?” And Rooke paused dramatically, looking very indignant.
“You told us once,” said some one unkindly. “Go ahead!”