When his gaze, after going along the entire line, returned once more to plump, good-natured Bumpus, who had now ceased puffing, and was looking rested, it might be set down as certain that there was trouble of some sort in store for the red-haired, freckle-faced scout.
Now Giraffe was a sharp schemer. He knew how to go about his business in a way least calculated to arouse suspicion.
Instead of immediately blurting out what he had in mind, he started to "beating around the bush," seeking to first disarm his intended victim by drawing him into a little discussion.
Before another full minute had passed Thad noticed that Giraffe and Bumpus were warmly discussing some matter, and that the stout scout seemed to be unusually in earnest. Doubtless, this was on account of the sly assertions which Giraffe inflicted upon him, the tall scout being a past master when it came to giving little digs that hurt worse than pins thrust into one's flesh.
"I tell you I _can_ do it!" Bumpus was heard to say stubbornly.
"Don't believe you'd ever come within a mile of making it, and that goes, Bumpus." Giraffe went on as though he might be a Doubting Thomas who could only be convinced by actual contact; "and tell you what I'll do to prove I'm in earnest. If you make it in three trials, straddling the limb while my watch is counting a whole minute, I'll hand over that fine compass you always liked so much. How's that, Bumpus; are you game to show us, or have I dared you to a standstill?"
"What, _me_ back down for a little thing like that? Well, you just watch me make you eat your words, Giraffe!"
So saying the fat scout clambered up over the rail fence, and dropped in the open pasture beyond.
"What's he going to do?" asked Thad, as they saw Bumpus start on a waddling sort of gait toward a tree that stood by itself some little distance from the fence, and with a clump of bushes not far away.
He looked a little suspiciously at Giraffe, who immediately stopped his chuckling, and tried to draw a solemn face, though he shut one eye in a humorous fashion.
"Why, he started to boast that he had been doing some fine climbing lately," explained the tall scout; "and I dared him to go over and get up in that tree while I held the watch on him. He's got to start climbing and make it inside of sixty seconds; and between you and me, Thad, I reckon now he might manage it in half that time--if hard pushed."