"
Gr-r-r-r-r! came a warning sound through the bushes.
"Towser!" spoke Harry Hazelton sharply. "I'm ashamed of you!"
"You ought to be!" came the answer in another voice, and a surly
one, at that.
"Fred Ripley?" muttered Dick. "What on earth can he be doing
here?"
Unconsciously all of the picnickers hastened their steps. Then
they came upon a truly ludicrous sight.
Fred lay where he had been lying ever since ten o'clock that morning.
He was coatless, stretched out face downward, with Towser still
camped across his shoulder, and the dog's teeth still fastened
in his shirt.
"Come and call this measly dog off!" ordered Fred, in a surly
tone. "This is a fine reward that I get for trying to do you
fellows a friendly turn!"
Dick, Dave and Tom were the first to get within range and obtain
a glimpse of the extraordinary scene. They halted, gasping, though
their glances swiftly took in the whole affair. They comprehended
what Ripley had been doing, and how the dog had come upon the
marauder.
By this time the other members of the party came in sight. Fred
still lay on the ground, scowling and fuming over his undignified
position, while Towser still kept an eye open for business.
"Call this dog off!" Fred ordered again.
"How did the dog happen to catch you here?" Dick asked quietly.
"Call this dog off and I'll tell you," snapped Fred. "I was trying
to do you fellows a good turn, but the dog had to interfere and
get hold of the wrong party.
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