"What are those things tied in a bunch at your belt--scalps?" queried
Bluff, as they walked along together.
"The tails of four wild dogs that tackled me in the big timber after I
had shot a deer which they wanted," remarked Jerry, trying to speak
naturally.
"What!" exclaimed the others in concert.
"Oh, it's a positive fact, boys. I can take you to where the critters
lie, if you want to see them later. I was told about them ranging that
section, by Jesse, who warned me to look out for them. I met the pack all
right, and I guess they wished I hadn't. Here's some of the fresh
venison. I hung up most of it so we could get it later. Then we made a
breakfast on part of what I was lugging home," Jerry went on.
"We?" remarked Frank, inquiringly.
"Of course. Andy Lasher and myself."
"Andy Lasher! Where did you run across _him_, and how did it come that
you let that miserable skunk eat breakfast with you?" demanded Bluff.
"Well, he was in a bad way, you see. I just happened to get him out from
under the branches of a fallen tree that had him pinned tight to the
ground. His arm was bruised, and we bunked together until morning. Andy's
got a repentant mood on him. He vows he's done playing nasty tricks on
our club.
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