The Outdoor Chums | Page 3

flesh.
"Why, it's Andy Lasher!" exclaimed Jerry, pretending to be
wonderfully surprised. "Where in the world did you come from--hiding
in that drygoods box, eh? Up to some of your old tricks, Andy, I guess.
Going to carry off the whole dry-goods emporium that time, perhaps?"
The boy managed to get upon his feet, though he continued to limp
around and rub his legs vigorously, as he whistled to keep from
groaning.
Andy Lasher was known as the town bully, and many a time had he
taken delight in giving our four friends more or less trouble; Jerry and
he had always been at loggerheads, and could look back to half a dozen
occasions in the past where the contest for supremacy had brought them

to the point of battle.
Each time Andy was supposed to have gotten the better of the conflict,
though his friends thought he paid dearly for his victory; but Jerry
seemed never to know when he was whipped, and was just as ready to
try conclusions with the other as before.
"Some fine day I'll know how to outwit the big brute, and then I mean
to cure him of his bullying ways," he was wont to say cheerfully, as he
festooned his face with strips of adhesive plaster, and tried to grin
through the pain.
"What d'ye mean upsetting me that way, Jerry Wallington? Think just
because your dad's a big railroad man you can knock poor fellers
around any old way? I guess I've got some rights. You might have
killed me, tumbling that pile of boxes down, with me inside. You ought
to be made to pay fur it, that's what," grumbled the fellow, scowling
vindictively, and yet not daring to assume the offensive while the four
chums were present; for he had never tried conclusions with Frank, and
was suspicious of the new boy in Centerville--for the Langdons had
lived there about a year, Frank's father having purchased the bank of
which he was now president.
"How could I know anybody was hiding up there?" demanded Jerry, in
pretended ignorance, though his eyes twinkled with humor as he
watched the bully limping around and still rubbing his knee.
"Ain't I got a right to play hide-and-seek with my friends? Who told
you to stop just underneath, and talk about campin' out up above the
lumber docks? Think you're the whole team, do you? Well, perhaps
you won't shout just so loud when you know me and some of my mates
are going up in that region ourselves, to-morrow, to see old Bud Rabig,
the trapper, and if we have any trouble with you sissies there's bound to
be a high old mix-up, see?" and he glared first at one and then at each
of the others in turn.
The boys looked at one another in dismay, for it seemed as though
some would-be joker had tossed a bucket of ice-cold water over them;

this vague threat of Andy Lasher's was not to be lightly dismissed as
mere bluff, for whatever his reputation might be, the fellow had a way
of keeping his word, especially when it concerned any sort of mischief.
Frank, however, laughed aloud.
"That sort of talk doesn't cut any figure with us, Lasher. If we go up to
the head of the lake we'll try and mind our own business, and advise all
others to do the same, if they know what's good for them. We're not out
looking for trouble, but, if it comes along, you and your cronies will
find that there are four fellows who know how to take care of
themselves. Got that, Andy?" he said sternly.
The bully looked at him fixedly for a moment, and then drawing back
his short upper lip after a way he had, and which made his face
resemble that of a snarling wolf, with fangs exposed, he remarked:
"It makes me laugh to think of such a lot of tenderfeet in the woods. Be
careful not to shoot yourselves, kids. Guns are mighty dangerous
sometimes. And just make up your minds that we ain't agoing to be
scared by big words. The fellows that train with me have been up
against hard knocks too often to knuckle down before a lot of bluster
and brag. Them two weeks'll be the liveliest you ever knew, take my
word for it."
With his tongue in his cheek he scurried away, just in time to avoid the
proprietor of the store, who now came bustling out to learn what all the
racket might mean, and found our four boys busily replacing his
pyramid of empty boxes.

CHAPTER II
READY FOR THE START
Centerville was a thriving town situated almost midway down the east
shore of Camalot Lake, and very nearly opposite