Then Dick, with a gesture of impatience, slammed the door shut.
"There! What did I tell you, Jacky?" he growled. "But, oh, no; you wouldn't listen. And now your hollering's done the business—Pete knows something, as sure as you live; anybody can see that."
"An' blame it all on me!" cried Jack. "Keep the door locked! Stand around the table like a lot o' ninnies! Get as flustered as a Jabberwock! An' just because Pete sees it imagine he knows all about our gold mine!"
"There he goes again!" wailed Dick. "Let's muzzle him, fellows. We ought to call that—that place some other name. The Jabberwock, eh?"
"Oh, you make me tired," sneered Jack. "Never saw such silly duffers."
"Come—come, fellows!" laughed Bob. "Too bad, if any harm's done, Jack," he added, severely. "If you speak those two words out loud again—"
"There'll be a speedy trial for the offender," laughed Sam, "and summary vengeance of a terrible sort will be wreaked upon him—hello—dinner time already?" He raised his voice: "That you, Booney?"
"'Deed it am, sar!" came an answering voice. "Shall I come in?"
"As far as you like!" yelled Dick.
The door swung open, and Daniel Boone King, a very dark spot in the landscape, stood on the threshold, grinning good-naturedly, and showing a row of dazzling teeth.