"Watch for what?" demanded Bobolink.

"Guess Joe thinks Ted Slavin and his crowd might get over here, and throw
stones at our tents, like they did once before," suggested Nuthin.

"Well, they do say there's a wild man around here," declared Joe, in a
half hesitating way; for he was actually ashamed to expose his belief in
supernatural things for fear of being laughed at.

"Let Mr. Wild Man come around; who cares?" sang out Bobolink. "Why, the
circuses are always wantin' wild men, you know; and I guess we'd get a
pretty hefty sum now, if we could capture this wonderful critter that's
been living here so long covered with the skins of wild beasts he's ate
up. It's me to hit the rubber pillow I fetched along. And Joe, if you
want to watch, nobody is going to keep you from doing it"

And with these words Bobolink dodged into the tent that he knew his mess
belonged to; in which action he was followed by numerous other scouts.
Joe, finding himself left in the lurch, cast a fearful glance around at
the heavy growth of timber on one side the camp, the lake being on the
other; after which he shook his head as though the prospect of sitting
there by the dying fire did not appeal very much to him--and crawled
under the flap, too.

Perhaps it could hardly be said that silence rested on the scene; for
with a dozen and a half boys trying to get to sleep there is always more
or less horseplay. But an hour later, something like quiet settled down.
The fire was dying out, too, since they had no reason for keeping it
going, the night air being balmy.