"Why, it's Andy Lasher!" exclaimed Jerry, pretending to be wonderfully surprised. "Where in the world did you come from--hiding in that drygoods box, eh? Up to some of your old tricks, Andy, I guess. Going to carry off the whole dry-goods emporium that time, perhaps?" The boy managed to get upon his feet, though he continued to limp around and rub his legs vigorously, as he whistled to keep from groaning. Andy Lasher was known as the town bully, and many a time had he taken delight in giving our four friends more or less trouble; Jerry and he had always been at loggerheads, and could look back to half a dozen occasions in the past where the contest for supremacy had brought them to the point of battle. Each time Andy was supposed to have gotten the better of the conflict, though his friends thought he paid dearly for his victory; but Jerry seemed never to know when he was whipped, and was just as ready to try conclusions with the other as before. "Some fine day I'll know how to outwit the big brute, and then I mean to cure him of his bullying ways," he was wont to say cheerfully, as he festooned his face with strips of adhesive plaster, and tried to grin through the pain. "What d'ye mean upsetting me that way, Jerry Wallington? Think just because your dad's a big railroad man you can knock poor fellers around any old way? I guess I've got some rights. You might have killed me, tumbling that pile of boxes down, with me inside. You ought to be made to pay fur it, that's what," grumbled the fellow, scowling vindictively, and yet not daring to assume the offensive while the four chums were present; for he had never tried conclusions with Frank, and was suspicious of the new boy in Centerville--for the Langdons had lived there about a year, Frank's father having purchased the bank of which he was now president. "How could I know anybody was hiding up there?" demanded Jerry, in pretended ignorance, though his eyes twinkled with humor as he watched the bully limping around and still rubbing his knee. "Ain't I got a right to play hide-and-seek with my friends? Who told you to stop just underneath, and talk about campin' out up above the lumber docks? Think you're the whole team, do you? Well, perhaps you won't shout just so loud when you know me and some of my mates are going up in that region ourselves, to-morrow, to see old Bud Rabig, the trapper, and if we have any trouble with you sissies there's bound to be a high old mix-up, see?" and he glared first at one and then at each of the others in turn. The boys looked at one another in dismay, for it seemed as though some would-be joker had tossed a bucket of ice-cold water over them; this vague threat of Andy Lasher's was not to be lightly dismissed as mere bluff, for whatever his reputation might be, the fellow had a way of keeping his word, especially when it concerned any sort of mischief. Frank, however, laughed aloud.