These he dropped on the firewood, then went back for more of the camp's food supply.
"Just wait," scowled Hazelton.

"Oh, my fine fellow, I'll make your hands too hot for holding other people's property!" Over the brush arched a stone.

Hazelton had been a pitcher in his high school days, and no mistake.

The descending stone fell smack across the back of the fellow's right hand.
"That's right! Howl!" cried Harry, exultantly.

"Now, for a surprise." The second stone flew with better speed, carrying away the fellow's hat without hitting his head.
"Hey, you, stop that!" roared the fellow.
From behind the bushes all was quiet.