"That mule sure gets my goat!" grinned Jimmie. "What do you think of
his standing still while his tail is being pulled?"
By this time Jimmie had prepared breakfast, and the boys gathered
about the fire with tin plates on their knees, and devoured ham and
eggs, baked beans, and bread and butter and coffee with a mountain
relish. Mike III. ate what was given to him at the first helping and
then clamored for more. Bradley whispered something in his ear, but
the boy pushed him off with a scowl:
"Alles-vous en!" he cried, angrily.
Jack snickered and Frank looked as if he had made a mistake in his
estimate of the boy and knew it! Bradley drew the boy away, but
Jimmie hastened to replenish his plate.
"Let the kid have all he wants!" he said. "We can cook more. We're
going to have a chicken pie for dinner, and he'll like that."
"Seems to me it is about time Jack was looking after that pie," Frank
suggested.
"Pretty near forgot it!" Jack admitted, going to the oven and opening
the door so as to look inside at the dainty.
Something took place when he did that! The square piece of metal flew
back on its hinges with a thump, and cut of the oven flew the cover
of the tin pail in which the chicken pie had been tucked.
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