Jim scratched his head.
"'Tain't nateral ter expect a man ter give up a chancet like that, is it? If them fellers is still o' a mind, ye kin come in with us."
"Wal, I ruther guess not!" howled Tom Smull, fiercely, beginning to pace to and fro. "Nix on that."
The bantering expression left his face. He glanced toward Alf Griffin, and the swift interchange of looks between the two told of a determined resolve to keep the Ramblers out.
"An' none o' ye don't darst to cross the crick," came from Pete, as he stalked belligerently to the edge of the bank.
"Get out, grouchy!" scoffed Jack. "Let's call his bluff, fellows, an' get over the splash."
"Come ahead!" cried Dick, excitedly.
"Look hyar!" Smull's warlike tone matched his scowling visage. "Mebbe you fellers is a-sp'ilin' fur trouble, hey? My adwice is: don't start nuthin', but git back ter that lumber camp whar ye belong."
"Ho, ho!" laughed Jimmy.
"And ye kin ask Cap Slater fur our old jobs."