"That sounds like astronomy," ventured Stacy.
"You're wrong; it's geography," chuckled Rector. "I'll finish the
story. The ruffian fired twice more after the first two shots at Tad;
then he went down as the stone landed on him. By the time he had got
up, Tad was on the job and punched him in the jaw."
"Boys, boys!" rebuked Professor Zepplin. "One would think this was a
prize fight you were describing."
"It's the truth," protested Ned.
"Of course it is," laughed Tad.
"That may be. But be good enough to moderate your language. You can
describe the scene without using questionable language."
"Yes, it's disgraceful," added Stacy, whereat Ned gave the fat boy
another withering look.
"As I was about to say," continued Rector, "this gentleman of the
mountains had got to his feet when Tad gently smote said gentleman
on the tender part of his chin. The gentleman fell down and went to
sleep like a little child after a full meal. When the gentleman woke
up we had him hog-tied---"
"During which time our friend Ned remained tied to a tree," chuckled
Butler.
"Pshaw! I thought so," grunted Stacy. "Brave man is Ned Rector! If
you were a scarred veteran like myself then you'd have a right to swell
out your chest," added the fat boy, gingerly stroking the bullet mark
on his cheek. "Well, go on. We're listening."
"That's all there is to tell, Professor, except that we carried the
man down here and there he is.
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