“Oh, Chet! we’ll have just the Jim-dandiest kind of a time if they only let us go,” sighed Digby Fordham.
“And we’ll get a shot at those buffaloes,” said Chet, his eyes sparkling.
“Oh, shucks, boy!” drawled Dig. “You’ve that big buffalo on the brain. I still declare that I don’t believe there is any such animal.”
“Just you take your heavy rifle along. It takes a sizable bullet to kill a bull buffalo. I am going to borrow father’s big rifle.”
“Say! they haven’t said we could go yet!”
“Who else can go?” returned Chet. “If you’ll only promise to behave—”
“Whew! how about you?”
“Well,” answered Chet, “they didn’t speak about me being scatter-brained,” and he laughed.
“I vow,” said Dig, “by all the hoptoads that were chased out of Ireland—”
“John Peep rather doubted if the toads went with the other reptilian species,” chuckled Chet.