the consequence was the entire pile came tumbling down, much after the fashion of a crumbling church during an earthquake.
Bluff gave a wild shout, and sprang to a position of safety, to turn and stare in astonishment at the remarkable result of the catastrophe.
From under the ruins a figure came crawling slowly, rubbing sundry places about his legs and sides, where the sharp corners of the boxes had been in cruel contact with his flesh.
"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 drygoods 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
