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THE OUTDOOR CHUMS

changed," said the fellow who hung discreetly on the outskirts of the group, and who was evidently a devoted follower of the said Andy.

"Jest mind yer own business, Tom Somers, an' speak when yer spoken to. Guess I know that yer intendin' to stick to Andy through thick an' thin. But they ain't everybody feelin' that way, understand? If Andy he's a-goin' to turn on us and be chummy with that crowd, we ain't expectin' to stand it, see?" declared Pet, still struggling with the obstreperous knot.

"Them's my sentiments," observed another.

"Me, too, fellers?" declared a second.

"Yes, it's easy for ye to talk that ways when he ain't around; but let him give any one o' ye a single look an' it's eat dirt for the lot. Ain't I seen it done many a time? An' some day Andy's goin' to give Pet the time o' his life," the single faithful henchman kept saying.

"Oh, let up, Tom! Ain't any one o' ye got a knife? I can't never get this here knot untied. Hand it here, Billy. Now watch the fun, fellers," and as he spoke Pet opened a blade of the borrowed knife, and proceeded to lay it across the cord.

To judge by the way he sawed, that blade was too dull to cut butter.

"What d'ye call this thing, anyhow, Billy?