Sube's Baptist leanings collapsed like a house of cards. "Now Iknowyou're lyin'," he growled disgustedly, "'cause that's a kind of a pipe you smoke. My father's got one."
For a few moments conflict seemed inevitable. Then the discussion took a new angle and developed into an argument as to the knowledge of their respective fathers of the correct meaning of the word "mershum." After this had waged for a few minutes with honors about equally divided, Gizzard had a brilliant idea.
"Look here, Sube!" he cried. "We could keep chewin' about this all day long and not get nowhere. But if I couldshowit to you, then you'd have to b'lieve it!"
"I'll b'lieve it jus' soon as Iseeit," Sube admitted; "and not before."
"All right!" shouted Gizzard, starting for the stairs. "Come on! I'll show it to you!"
Sube stirred uneasily. "Yeah, and then when wegot there you'd say we couldn't get in the church 'cause it was locked. You can't bluffme—"
"You think so, do you? Well, we ain't goin' in the door at all! We're goin' in a window with a busted catch! Hope to die and cross my heart if we ain't! And if you don't come along now we'll know who's the bluffer, by jingo!"
"All right, kid," grunted Sube as he arose languidly and began to hunt for his cap. "But if I find out you been lyin' to me,—I'll fix you good and plenty."
A short time afterwards the four boys clambered through a narrow opening in the lower section of a window that was sacred to the memory of Zenas Wheelock, deceased, and his three wives, equally deceased, and huddled timorously just inside in readiness to retreat at the first unfavorable symptom. The interior of the church was pretty scary at first, it was so dark and empty and smelled so religious.
But after listening cautiously until he was satisfied that nobody was about but his own company, Sube made bold to speak.
"Well, Giz," he said, "why don't you trot out your wonderful mershum swimmin'-hole?"
All of them started at the hollow echoing sound of Sube's voice, and Cathead made a movement towards the window. But Gizzard pointed a stubby finger at the pulpit.
"It's down under there," he said. "Maybe I can't open it the first thing, but I know it's there, all right."
He walked over and began to run his hand along the edge of the platform on which the pulpit stood. At first he succeeded in finding nothing but a great deal of dust and an occasional sliver, while Sube goaded him on with unkind remarks, and Cathead tried to persuade him to abandon the investigation so that they might "get out while the gettin' was good."
Suddenly there was a click, followed by a seismic rumble. The pulpit and the platform on which it stood moved perceptibly. There were simultaneous exclamations from three members of the party. Gizzard's denoted triumph; Sube's delighted astonishment; and Cathead's nervous apprehension. Cottontop was beyond words. He could only gasp.
Flushed with success, Gizzard began to dance around the front of the altar, making unmistakable signs of derision, and shouting excitedly:
"Ya-da! Ya-da! What'd I tell you! What'd I tell you!"
Sube recovered his indifferent attitude at once.
"Well, we ain'tseenit yet, have we?" he said.
"You fellers help me push this here thing back and you'll see it in a hurry!" cried Gizzard confidently.
All lent a hand except Cathead, who discreetly remained in the background. And suddenly he gave a cry of warning.
"Look out there! You're movin' the whole blame' bus'ness!"
And indeed they were. Pulpit and platform rolled majestically back several feet, disclosing to their popping eyes just such a pool as Gizzard had described. When Gizzard had sufficiently recovered from his surprise to find his voice, he demanded of Sube with the gruffness which he was now entitled to employ:
"Ain't that there a swimmin'-hole?"
"Looks like one," Sube was forced to admit.
"Get onto them little steps goin' down into the water, jus' like I tole you," Gizzard pointed out.
Sube did get on to them, first with his eyes, and then with his feet. He squatted down and dipped his hand into the water. "Why, it's warm!" he exclaimed.
"Sure it's warm," said Gizzard patronizingly. "Didn't I tell you it's right on top the furnace, so's they can use it all winter?"
"Hadn't we better be gettin' that thing back?" asked Cathead, glancing nervously towards the door.
"What for?" blurted Sube brazenly. "We jus' got her opened up!"
Cathead squirmed uneasily. "Somebody might come in and catch us. Ol' Joe might come to take care of the furnace."
"Huh!" snorted Sube defiantly. "Who's afraid of ol' Joe? I ain't any more afraid of him than I am of—" Sube looked about for a suitable means of comparison—"of you!" he cried, pointing his finger at Cathead. "And I guess you know how much that is."
"Well, then," argued Cathead, "somebody else might come in. Doc Mossman might—!"
At the mere mention of the minister's name Gizzard quailed; Cottontop showed signs of nervousness; and Cathead furtively glanced at the window by means of which they had entered, as if to be sure that it was still there. But Sube was no craven. He let out a howl of derision.
"That big boob! Ha—a—a ha! He's a big bag of wind! Why, he wouldn't hurt a fly! Say, I ain't any more afraid of him than I am of ol' Joe! You know what I'd do to him if he should come buttin' in here? I'd take 'im down into that little ol' mershum swimmin'-hole, and I'd duck 'im and duck 'im till he went home bellerin'! Gee! I wisht he would come in here. Wouldn't we have fun with him, though!"
Gizzard was not naturally timid. Rather was he inclined to be venturesome; and in addition to that he had carefully schooled himself to fear nothing that Sube was not afraid of. It was accordingly not long before he was able to force his unwilling tongue to say slighting things about Dr. Mossman. And, encouraged by Sube's contemptuous animadversions, he finally found himself saying that if the "Big Noise" should come botherin' aroundhim, he'd lick him with one hand.
"Well, if that's the way you feel about it," remarked Sube, "what's to hinder our havin' a little swim in this mershum swimmin'-hole?"
Gizzard was taken completely by surprise. He had supposed that the episode would end with the villification of the minister. For a moment he was silent.
"What's the matter? Afraid?" taunted Sube.
"No, I ain't," replied Gizzard weakly.
"Will you go in if I will?"
"If you do, I will; but what'd we do if anybody should come in and catch us?" Gizzard equivocated.
"That's easy," blustered Sube. "We'd stay right in the water, and these two fellers would shut the thing up and duck under the seats with our duds, and wait till they went out again!"
It sounded so reasonable and so safe that Gizzard resisted no longer. And soon the two boys were floating about in the delightful depths of the baptistry. There was not a great deal of room for swimming, but they repeatedly expressed their unqualified approval of mershum as a pastime.
Cathead had done his best to keep the boys from going into the water, and he now began to urge them to come out.
"I tell you it ain't safe," he was saying. "Somebody is liable to come in here—"
As if in response to the suggestion, there was a metallic sound from the front door which indicated the introduction of a key into the lock. This was followed by an ominous rattling of the knob. Then came the hum of voices. A supreme effort brought the pulpit back to place. Cottontop snatched Gizzard's clothes and dived under the seats; but Cathead, who was thoroughly rattled, caught up Sube's clothes, and throwing them out of the window, hastily scrambled out after them.
In the impenetrable darkness of the baptistry the two boys clung to each other for company and listened intently. Suddenly Sube felt Gizzard's muscles stiffen; then heard him gasp, "Good Gosh!"
"What's the matter of you?" whispered Sube.
"It's ol' Mossy, and a whole lot of women's with him!"
"Well, what of it? They ain't comin' in here, are they?"
"That's jus' what I'm scairt of!" sniffed Gizzard, on the verge of tears.
"Don't be a baby!" said Sube disgustedly. "They ain't comin' inhere! You don't s'pose ol' Mossy'd bring a lot of women with him if he was goin' to take a swim in this here mershum swimmin'-hole, do you?"
This thought was so comforting to Sube that he chuckled perceptibly. Gizzard, too, was reassured; for he sought out Sube's ear and said:
"I thought maybe you was goin' to get a chanct to show me what you promised to do to him."
Sube sniffed disdainfully, and ignoring Gizzard's little pleasantry, suggested that they move up to the front end of the tank and see if they could make out what the intruders were doing. There was room at the crack for only one ear, and this was occupied by Sube's right one. From time to time he issued bulletins based partly on what he heard or thought he heard, and partly on what he imagined was taking place.
"They're all tellin' 'im what a whale of a speechhe made down to my house last night ... they all b'lieve in it, too!"
"B'lieve in what?" asked Gizzard.
"If it's who I think it is, it don't matter much, 'cause they're mostly ol' maids that ain't got any children—"
"B'lieve in what?" persisted Gizzard. "What is it they b'lieve in?"
"Sh—h—hut up!" breathed Sube. "Want to get us caught?"
"Well, what is it—?"
"Shut up till I hear, can't you?"
"Well, you might tell a feller—"
Sube turned exasperated from the crack, and feeling about till he found Gizzard's ear, drew it towards him with what Gizzard considered unnecessary emphasis, and whispered crossly:
"Moral Persuasion, if you must know!"
Then he turned his attention once more to matters outside the baptistry. Gizzard was still wondering what Moral Persuasion was like, when he felt Sube groping for his ear again. He fortified it with his hand before yielding it.
"They're beggin' him to make another speech so's those who didn't go to the meetin' last night can hear about Moral Persuasion, too. I guess he'sgoin' to do it, 'cause he jus' tole 'em that it's his hobby—"
"What's that?" asked Gizzard.
But Sube nudged him to silence with his elbow.
"What's a hobby?" Gizzard insisted.
"Shut up! Will you?—Jus' listen and you'll find out all about it! He's tellin' 'em now—"
Gizzard listened. Dr. Mossman's remarks were informal but none the less forceful. He briefly repeated his arguments of the evening before, and added in conclusion that many of the foremost minds of the day regard corporal punishment as a sin. When the resulting applause had faded away he cried out with irrepressible enthusiasm:
"And I may say that I am one of them!"
Within the dark baptistry the two boys embraced each other effusively, and Gizzard whispered:
"Now I know why you wa'n't more afraid of him! I ain't any more afraid'n you are, now!... I wisht my folks was Baptis'es—"
"Hark!" gasped Sube. "What's that he's sayin'?"
He pressed his ear to the crack and listened intently.
"What is it?" breathed Gizzard as Sube drew back, trembling in every fiber.
"He's goin' to open this thing up so's to show it to those women!—They're goin' to be ducked to-morrow—he's sayin' he's sorry it's so dark, but he thinks they can see enough without lightin' the lamps."
A wave of terror swept over Gizzard. He sank his nails into Sube's arm as he panted desperately: "What you goin' to do? You got me into this! Now you can get me out again!"
Sube shook him off. "Igotyouin, did I? I did, did I? Well, I guess I didn't! I didn't even know it was here till you tole me! I guessyoubetter be gettin'meout of—"
There was a click and a jar. A streak of light became visible at the front end of the pool. The boys, who had unconsciously retreated to the rear end, with one accord took a long breath and disappeared beneath the surface, clinging to each other for support and encouragement.
They felt the rumble as the pulpit was shoved back, and waited in vain for it to be replaced. Finally the pounding in their ears became so loud that they thought it must have been accomplished without their hearing it. Then, having remained under water for a period of time afterwards estimated by Gizzard as fifteen minutes, and by Sube ashalf an hour at the very least, they came up. And their coming was no graceful bobbing to the surface. It was more like a volcanic upheaval, followed by the terrific spouting of a horrid two-headed marine monster.
Piercing shrieks greeted their appearance, followed quickly by the din and confusion of a panic. The terrified boys brushed the water from their eyesand gazed in trembling awe at the havoc of which they had been the innocent cause.
They saw Dr. Mossman pulled down by a pack of frenzied women who trampled him underfoot as if he had been a doormat, and then fought, tore, scratched and screamed their way to the door.
Gizzard was the first to speak.
"What is it?" he asked in a voice husky with terror. "S'pose the church is on fire?"
Sube's teeth chattered violently as he shook his head and managed to say, "I don't know; but I guess we better be gettin' out of here!"
They had ascended the little steps before they realized that they were naked. Looking about in brainless bewilderment Gizzard asked,
"Where's our clo's?"
And although Sube knew, he was never able to tell, for at that instant he saw rising before him like a Phœnix from its ashes the battered remains of Dr. Mossman. It then became apparent that Sube had lost some of his contempt for the minister, for he tried to avoid him and jump hastily back into the water.
But alas, he was too late.
Dr. Mossman seized him with an iron grip and drew his shivering body across a large pious knee—and for the next few moments forgot all about his hobby.
When Sube appeared at Sunday School the following day he was nursing a bad cold.
"Did you catch an'thing 'sides a cold?" asked Gizzard under his breath.
"Not buch I didn't!" returned Sube. "Bud we godt a bystery over to our house."
"A mystery? What is it?"
"By bother found the Baptis' bidister's overcoat hangin' in our frondt hall last dight, and dobody in the house could tell her how it godt there!" Sube punched the grinning Gizzard jovially in the stomach as he continued, "She hadt me take it to him, but he didn't know how it godt there either!"
"We got a mystery over to my house, too!" howled Gizzard. "My mother's been tryin' to figger out how I could lose off my undershirt and one stockin' without knowin' it!"
When they had sufficiently calmed down the boys passed into Sunday School, winking knowingly whenever their eyes chanced to meet.
Jealousy is about as reasonable as lightning; it is fully as deadly, and often much more unexpected. And because Biscuit Westfall's mother's brother-in-law (who was a farmer with a fine woodlot) when bringing in the annual Christmas tree for Biscuit, had also brought one for Nancy Guilford's Christmas party, he had aroused Sube's groundless jealousy of Biscuit to the striking point.
Biscuit cared nothing for Nancy; he had a lady love of his own. Of course he was polite to Nancy, but he was polite to every lady. And Nancy cared nothing for Biscuit. She had found him useful in her scheme of life, and had accordingly made use of him. But she loved him not. However, as far as the Christmas tree was concerned she was innocent of using him even as an exciter. He had offered the tree, and she had taken it.
Somewhere Sube had learned the history of the tree, and when he saw it he shook his head dubiously."Pretty punk, isn't it?" he asked. "Is that the best you could get?"
"Uh huh, the very best," Nancy emphatically assured him.
"Why didn't you letmeget you a tree?" he demanded. "I'd 'ave got you one a hundred times better'n that."
"Oo—oo! Could you, honest?"
"Could I!"
"Will you do it?"
"Will I? Half a dozen if you want 'em."
Nancy assured him that one was all she could possibly use, and thereupon he obtained his ax and set out to conquer the forest. But he soon found that Biscuit's uncle Peter had spoken the truth when he said that good Christmas trees were scarce. They were; decidedly scarce. The few that had come through the dry fall without unwithered limbs had already been hewn by the early tree-hunters. And Sube was hard to please.
He had in his mind the picture of an ideal Christmas tree, and as he rejected one prospect after another, the picture became more vivid.
"You're a rusty runt," he informed an anæmic-looking pine that appeared in his path. "And you're too much like a beanpole," he told another."Yes, and you're lop-sided," he explained to a third; "you look like you'd had an arm cut off."
The afternoon waned. Dusk came on. To be in the woods after dark would be quite useless, so he might as well be starting for home. And still the picture of the perfect tree possessed his mind. If he could only think where it was.
Then suddenly it came to him. Why, of course! That was just where he had seen it! It wasn't exactly growing wild, but the people who inhabited the place wouldn't care. He felt quite sure about that. And anyway, it would be dark by the time he reached there.
An hour later when Nancy Guilford opened the door in response to his ring (for which she had been listening for some time) a perfect specimen of cypress greeted her delighted gaze. It was bright green, symmetrical and bushy-limbed. It was as perfect as the picture on a Christmas card. Nancy's exclamations and gurglings of delight brought her mother to the door, with the result that Sube was invited over that evening to help trim the tree.
When he arrived some two hours later he found the gift tree mounted in a disguised soap box, and standing at one end of the parlor from which the furniture had been removed to facilitate the layingof the crash, with the entire household gathered round about offering on-lookers' advice as to the most effective way of decorating it.
This was not exactly as he had anticipated. He had planned to arrange those details according to his own ideas and Nancy's. But somehow he managed to live through it. If, however, he had known that the Guilfords were entertaining company he would not have come. He hated to meet strangers, especially tall women dressed all in black who think they have got to talk to a fellow all the time.
When Sube was presented to Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger he fastened his gaze on a little red spot on the crash and moved his lips deferentially, although no sound came. Observing his embarrassment, Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger attempted to put him at his ease by the questionable method of interrogation.
"So this is the young man," she remarked in her deep voice, "to whom we are indebted for this beautiful tree?"
Sube nodded microscopically.
"It's a cypress, isn't it?" she persisted.
Again Sube's head moved slightly, although it would have taken a mind reader to translate the movement.
"Why, I had no idea that cypresses were indigenous to this part of the country. Where did you get that tree, young man?"
Sube started visibly. This was a question he was hardly prepared to answer. "Th—that tree, th—there?" he stammered in confusion. "That tree?—Why—"
Once more the success of well-handled dilatory tactics was evident; for Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger suddenly burst into tears.
"Oh, it all comes back so clearly," she sobbed. "I went to the nursery myself—broken and crushed as I was—and selected the four dainty cypresses that were planted at the four corners of the lot where my poor dear Clarence was laid to rest. They must be just about the size of this one! Imustgo and see them to-morrow. Why, I haven't seen those darling little trees since the day they were set out!—Oh, dear—!"
"There, there, sister," comforted Mrs. Guilford. "How could you have seen them when you have been abroad all the time? They've had the best of care, and they were looking be-autiful the last time I saw them—"
"Ah, yes, I stayed away that I might learn to forget!" moaned Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger between huge convulsive sobs. "But how the old griefcloses in on me the moment I return. Oh, I must go to the cemetery to-morrow!"
"MY FATHER GOT IT FOR ME""MY FATHER GOT IT FOR ME"
"Oh, I don't believe I'd go on the day before Christmas," Mrs. Guilford advised gently.
"I must!—I must!—I can't wait a moment longer!"
Then with a supreme effort Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger mastered her grief, and removing her black-bordered handkerchief from her reddened eyes, turned to Sube who had been watching her with keen interest, and said:
"You haven't yet told me where you got that tree, young man."
Sube had to swallow once or twice before he managed to mumble, "Don't know exackly."
"Don't know?" she demanded. "How can it be possible that you don't know? You cut this tree yourself, did you not?"
"No, ma'am. I—"
"You didn't! Well, who did, then?"
"Ma'am? Oh,—who cut this tree?—Why,—why, my father got it for me!" he finally stammered out. "I don't know jus' where he did get it. Out in the woods somewheres, I should—"
"Ah! Then he cut it himself, did he?"
"Yes, ma'am. He cut it all right! He likes tocut Chris'mus trees. He says most people don't know a good Chris'mus tree when they see one."
"One could scarce say that about him."
This delicate compliment brought forth no response from Sube except a dark scowl, but it terminated Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger's part of the conversation, and she yielded to her sister's earnest solicitation that she lie down for a while.
Left alone with Nancy for a moment Sube began to look around for his cap. "I gotta be goin' home," he whispered huskily.
"Going home!" cried Nancy. "Why, you just got here! And besides, we haven't put a thing on the tree yet!"
"I know it," muttered Sube, "but my mother tole me I could only stay a couple of minutes—"
"Why, it isn't late at all! What time do you have to go?"
"What time is it now?"
Nancy stepped to the door and looked at the big clock in the hall. "Why, it's only twenty-five minutes after seven!" she announced joyfully.
"I gotta go at ha'-past," said Sube, as he struggled to extricate his cap from his coat-pocket where he had finally located it.
"That'smean!" cried Nancy petulantly. "It'sjust as mean as it can be! Why didn't you come earlier?"
"Well, I did come right after supper—"
"Then what you got to go so soon for?"
"Why—why, my mother's got to go to see a sick lady."
"A sick lady? Who's sick that your mother's got to go and see, I'd like to know?"
"I guess you don't know everybody that's sick!"
"I guess I know everybody that's sick that your mother's got to go and see! Now, who is it?"
"It's Auntie Emma! Yah, you didn't know she was sick at all! Did you?"
"Well, it must have been awful sudden, because I saw her go by just yesterday."
"Sudden! I guess it was sudden. She was sittin' at the supper table jus' well as you are, andBingo!she fell right out of her chair onto the floor sick abed!"
Nancy was deeply moved. "Oh, isn't that awful! What made it?"
"Huh?—What made it?—Why, I can't think what they call it. It's an awful funny name."
"Was it heart disease?" ventured Nancy.
"Aw, it was a million times worse'n that!"
Nancy gasped. "She isn't going to die, is she?"
"Well, I dunno," he replied dubiously. "She was still alive when I come away, but—"
"I'm sorry," murmured Nancy. "Awful sorry. I hope—"
"Well, I gotto be goin'. They might need me any minute!"
"I'm so sorry about it. Do you s'pose you'll be able to—to come to my party?"
This was a new phase of the matter that Sube had not considered. "Well, you can't tell," he replied. "It's a funny disease. Doc Richards says she may be dead one minute, or may be well the next."
"Oh, I do hope she'll be well," said Nancy earnestly; and as Sube passed out of the door she called after him, "I'm going right in and tell mamma about it."
Sube stopped in his tracks. But the heavy front door had slammed behind him. Oh, well, he'd tell them to-morrow that she was sick one minute, and well the next. That would be easy to fix up. But he was not going to stay round there all the evening and have that big tall woman in black keep askinghimquestions. Probably she'd forget all about the Christmas tree by to-morrow anyway. And besides, nobody would ever suspect his father of hooking a Christmas tree from a cemetery lot. Evergreentrees were so much alike that nobody could tell one from another, for that matter. And dismissing these trivial matters from his mind he paid an unexpected call on his friend Gizzard. He reached home shortly after nine o'clock.
"You oughta see that Chris'mus tree!" he cried as he entered the house. "It's a pippin! We got it all covered with glass balls and nickel-plated shavings and red and green candles, about a million of 'em!"
"When did you do all this?" asked his mother.
"Jus' got through!"
"You did?" she asked incredulously. "Why, I understood Mrs. Guilford to say that you had already left there when she telephoned me over an hour ago."
"Well,—you see—you see, I did leave there, but I jus' went outdoors, and then came right back again."
"But what did you mean by telling her that Auntie Emma was desperately ill and that you had to come home—"
"Did she 'phone you that?" cried Sube eagerly. "Did she honest?"
"Of course she did; and I want to know—"
"Oh, I guess I didn't foolherall right!" helaughed boisterously. "Oh, no! Guess not!"
"But I want to know what you meant—"
"Why, she said she bet I couldn't fool her, so in a little while, I tole her Auntie Emma was sick and I had to go home, and jus' to fool her I went outdoors and stayed a while; but I didn't know I fooled her so much that she 'phoned—"
"Then what did Nancy mean when she called up and asked for you about half an hour later?"
"Oh, ho!" cried Sube gleefully. "Then I fooled her, too! Did she call me up, honest? You see I was outdoors again and I didn't know it!"
"You must not fool so much, my boy. You'll get the reputation of being very untruthful—"
"Getit!" interjected Mr. Cane. "Getit! If he could get any more of a repu—"
"Samuel!" cried Mrs. Cane in a voice she seldom found it necessary to use. And as her husband subsided she turned again to Sube. "Nancy wanted you to call her up as soon as you came in," she said.
"Oh, that's all right," Sube explained. "She's seen me since then."
"They why do you suppose she called again about five minutes before you came?" asked his mother.
"Prob'ly I was on the way home," he suggested."I stopped to talk to some kids. I'll call her up anyway."
Sube went to the telephone, and removing the receiver with one hand he carefully pressed down the hook with the other to avoid arousing the operator, and called loudly for Guilfords' number. Then he held an illuminating though strictly imaginary conversation with Nancy, in the course of which he twitted her playfully about being so easily fooled.
"Put an'thing more on the tree?" he asked finally. "That's right! I guess we put on everything there was. Well, g'by! See you to-morrow!" And he hung up the receiver.
He had just resumed his chair after this master-stroke when the telephone rang. This time it was therealNancy.
Sube's glib flow of language of the moment before seemed to have deserted him entirely. He stuttered and stammered and stalled. He tried to put matters off till the morrow, but Nancy would not hear of such a thing. She wanted to be reassured as to Auntie Emma's condition. She must know at once whether her party was likely to be cheated out of his presence.
"Mamma called up your mother," she informed him, "and she said she hadn't heard a word about it. She thought there must be some mistake."
"Yes, there was," Sube considered it safe to reply.
"You hadn't told her yet! You were keeping it from her to spare her, weren't you, Sube?"
"Yes, I was."
"That's just what I told mamma. And when we both called up and you weren't home yet, I just knew you'd gone down there to help. You had, hadn't you?"
"Why, yes, course I had."
"And now tell me all about how she is."
"I can't!"
"Why, yes, you can! I want to know all about it! Now tell me!"
"But I tell you I can't!"
"But you must!"
"Why, you know—you know—now, what I tole you about one minute, and the next?"
"No! What did you tell me?"
"Why, you know!"
"No, I don't! Tell me again!"
"I can't now!"
"Why not?"
"'Cause I can't!"
"Oh!—I know why!—She's dead!—Mamma!" Sube heard her call. "She's dead!"
"She is not!" screamed Sube. "She's—she's just theopposite!"
"She's what?"
"The opposite to what you said!"
"What's that?"
"Alive and kickin'! All well! All over it the next minute! See you to-morrow! G'-by!"
And again slammed on the receiver.
Mrs. Cane had just finished a little dissertation onthe elements of courtesy and its necessary place in the lexicon of youth, when Sube looked up absently and asked:
"Who's pooah deah Clar-r-rence?"
"I didn't understand, dear. What's the name?" she asked.
"He's dead, I guess. Nancy's aunt was bawlin' about him to-night."
"He means Clarence Harger," guessed Mr. Cane. "She still sheds tears every time his name is mentioned; and strange to relate, I don't believe her lachrymal glands ever yielded up one drop of moisture until she found that the old tight-wad had left her a quarter of a million that she never dreamed he possessed."
"Was Clarence a tight-wad?" asked Sube with interest. "Where'd he live, anyway? When'd he die?"
"He was a very nice man," Mrs. Cane hastened to explain. "He lived and died in Rochester. And you must be very courteous to Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger, as she is one of your father's very best clients. Her husband was a splendid man—"
"Where was he buried?" asked Sube.
"He was buried here in the family lot beside his father and mother."
"But Clarence was a tight-wad, was he?" Sube repeated.
Mr. Cane squirmed. "Oh, that was just a joking way of speaking," he explained seriously. "He was a fine fellow; a very successful business man; he realized that it was the pennies that made the dollars, and ran his business on the lines of strictest efficiency and economy; and although he was well off, he lived very simply—"
"I see," Sube assured him. "Hewasa tight-wad!"
"Please, Sube!" Mrs. Cane was very gentle, but very much in earnest. "Please don't ever say that again. It might get back to Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger's ears, and if it did it would offend her terribly. She isn't in a very humorous state just now, and she couldn't possibly see the joke. It would be a very serious matter if she should be offended by any member of our family as she is about the most important client I have just now. You won't ever mention this matter again, will you, my boy?"
"Oh, no! Not if you don't want me to. But we all know hewasa tight-wad, don't we?"
If Sube had desired to mention the matter to Mrs. Hotchkiss-Harger, which no doubt he would have done at the first propitious opportunity, he wouldhave had no chance until the next evening; for he did not see her until then. But when he saw her he did not go out of his way to converse with her. He made himself as small as possible and started for the farther end of the room.
He was one of nineteen of Nancy's little friends who were assembled in the library chattering like magpies, while, beyond the closely drawn parlor curtains, her father and mother were lighting the candles on the Christmas tree. One moment the young people were fairly on tip-toe with pleasant anticipations—and the next they were silent and shocked.
For the front door of the house had suddenly burst open, and in rushed a tall woman heavily veiled, and generously cloaked in broadtail. As she entered, she had involuntarily called on her Maker for help; and as if the response were not sufficiently prompt, she sought to enlist the additional aid of her sister, whose name she moaned rather than called.
At her entrance the buzzing library became as silent as the third strike; but when she began to repeat her sister's name with increasing anguish, there were quick movements to points of vantage near the door, and several of the more venturesome boys poked their heads out and stared.
The confusion in the hall did not last long, however, for Mrs. Guilford came flying from the parlor, and taking her sister into her capable arms led her gently down the hall and into a side room, the door of which she quickly closed behind them.
"What are 'vandals'?" asked Biscuit Westfall of Sube as the company began to breathe again.
"Vandals?"
"Yes, vandals. She said vandals had desecrated the resting place of her poor dear Clarence."
"Did she say that?"
"She sure did! What are they, anyway? Are they an'thing like woodchucks?"
At this point Mr. Guilford threw back the curtains, and the assemblage trooped into the parlor with exclamations of great joy. The servants slipped in from the kitchen to see the tree and watch the children; and Mrs. Guilford found them clustered about the parlor door as she came softly out of her sister's room a few moments later.
Mr. Guilford had already assumed the rôle of an uncostumed Santa Claus, and the sounds of merriment were increasing with each package he clipped from the tree and delivered, and when Mrs. Guilford picked up a pair of shears and began to assist him, the uproar became deafening.
Suddenly all was hushed by an anguished moan.
As Mrs. Guilford dropped her shears and started for the door her worst suspicions were confirmed; for she caught sight of the towering form of her widowed sister with her hands pressed closely together in an attitude of supplication, and her eyes turned heavenwards.
"God help me! It's the very one!" she mumbled over and over. "God help me! It's the very one!"
In an instant Mrs. Guilford was at her sister's side; but her efforts to lead her from the room were futile.
"No! I must examine it! I have proof!... I can tell!... I can identify it!... When I saw that it had been cut down I scrutinized the stump, and God had been good to me! He had put a little black ring around the heart! It is asign!... I must turn over that tree and examine—!"
"Notnow, dear; you're all upset—"
"Yes, now—this instant!"
"But it's all lighted—the children are all here! We must wait until they have finished and gone into the dining-room, and then you can do anything you want to. But not just now—"
And again Mrs. Guilford led her distraught sister down the hall and into the side room.
It was the firm conviction of all the children save two, that the tall lady in black was crazy (a conviction of which some of them were never able to rid themselves in after years), and they did not hesitate to whisper about it among themselves.
The two who entertained no doubt as to the soundness of her mind were Sube and Nancy. To them her verbal wanderings about the little black ring had been perfectly lucid. But no look of understanding passed between them. In fact, their eyes did not squarely meet again during the entire evening, although neither one was for an instant unaware of the other's exact location.
Observing that Sube was standing by the tree, Nancy made her way thither by devious wanderings; but when she reached the tree she found that Sube had moved over by the doorway leading into the hall. She started in that direction, but before she had come up to him, the first call to supper was sounded; and by the time that she had reached the dining-room she found him securely seated between Cottontop Sigsbee and Stucky Richards.
In some mysterious way an exchange of seats was effected between Nancy and Cottontop; but no sooner had Cottontop yielded his seat to the hostess than Sube had slipped quickly across the room and hauledBiscuit Westfall from his seat, of which he at once took possession with the announcement that he and Biscuit had also swapped.
This was an act of plain insanity; for of course nothing remained for Biscuit to do except to go over and seat himself beside Nancy. It would have been difficult to decide which Sube would have kicked the harder, himself or Biscuit, had he been given a "free kick" at that moment. But he had no such good fortune.
Instead, he was compelled to sit idly by and look helplessly on at Biscuit and Nancy in close and apparently very intimate conversation. Of course Sube had no way of knowing that Nancy was simply assuring Biscuit that she would at once effect an exchange of seats with the lady at Sube's side, and thus restore Biscuit to the damsel of his choice.
The situation quickly became intolerable to Sube, and under cover of the confusion caused by the entry of a corps of waitresses bearing napkins and plates, he contrived to escape into the hall. This was his first false step; but others quickly followed.
For, finding nobody in the hall to observe him, he slipped into the deserted parlor. This was done with no definite purpose other than a desire to remove himself from a painful sight; the boy wassimply wandering in the midst of a haze of bewildered jealousy—until his eyes fell on the Christmas tree. And then he came to his senses with a perceptible bump.
If the tree was really a witness against him, he ought to know it. If therewasa little black ring around the trunk surely it had escaped his attention. The candles had all been extinguished; there could be no possible harm in examining the trunk, and then he would be sure. He was drawn to the spot with all the fascination of a murderer for the scene of his crime.
He tipped the tree and attempted to peer under the box in which it stood, when in some way it got away from him and fell to the floor with a tremendous crash, the tinkling ornaments flying in all directions.
But alas! There was no opening through the bottom of the box!
As he stood glowering over the prostrate tree, he heard his name called. At almost the same instant he heard Mr. Guilford asking what the crash was. Hurried footsteps in the hall became audible. He was caught red-handed!
He glanced around desperately for a window through which he might essay a dive, when he spied