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"A cabin!" echoed Bandy-legs; but there was relief rather than chagrin in his voice, and the pole Steve clutched steadied a little. "Sure it is, and nothing more!" remarked Owen. "B-b-but, f-f-fellows, did yon ever s-s-see such a c-c-cabin?" demanded Toby. "Well, it does look kind of queer," admitted Steve, "but mebbe that's just because of the shack being abandoned so long.
Get ready to give a volley!" cried Nuthin', pointing as he spoke. "H-h-hold on, f-f-fellows, d-d-don't fire yet! It's only our old d-d-dun cow!" gasped Bluff, excitedly; as he waved his arms up and down after the manner of a cheer captain at a college football game. "They've lit out, that's what," grumbled William, who felt as though cheated. "All right, then.
Oh! ain't it j-j-just awful, f-f-fellows?" It certainly was. Stirred up by the poles wielded by Ted Slavin and his cronies, who must have discovered the presence of the polecats when visiting the barn that morning, and laid their plans accordingly, the little animals were using the only means of defence against an enemy granted them by Nature.
"Oh, that's for the sizars," tittered the feeble-minded Boodle, who tittered at everything. "S-s-sizars!" stammered Lord Fitzurse. "What's that mean? Are they v-v-very big f-f-fellows?" "Ha! ha! ha!" said Bruce. "No; they're sons of gyps and that kind of thing, who feed on the semese fragments of the high table." "They must be g-g-ghouls!" said his lordship, shudderingly.
I've got a big proposition to make, and you want to listen carefully." "T-t-take c-c-care of the lantern, f-f-fellows; my d-d-dad's w-w-wanting this old barn f-f-for his t-t-tobacco crop, and he'd b-b-be some put out if it b-b-burned just now!" came from Bluff.
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