"Wal, bust it, if thar he ain't!" Pete stood staring as though he had never been quite so surprised in his life, then, with a couple of strides, planted himself before the newcomer. "Look hyar, young feller, what ye been doin'?"
"What I pleased, Pete Colliver," snapped Dick.
"Wal, mebbe it don't please me."
"Cut it out!" roared Jim, angrily. "Leave 'im alone!"
The young lumberjack folded a pair of muscular arms; a fierce scowl wrinkled his forehead into a network of lines.
"D'ye think I'm skeered o' you, Big Jim?" he demanded, defiantly. "I'll show yer how much I be. See hyar, young feller," his hand fell hard on the Rambler's shoulder, "was you a-skulkin' 'round the camp 'arly this mornin', hey?"
"You're a nice one to talk about skulking, Pete Colliver," retorted Dick, hotly.
"That don't answer my question none, feller."
"Well, I was; and what have you to say about it?"
Pete's arm dropped to his side; his eyes sought those of Tom Smull's.