Sube Cane Part 39

In common with a number of other people, Gizzard was not sure about this. He said he would have to ask his father. And at this point the bell rang to summon Sube to his midday meal. As the boy seated himself at the table his father asked:

"Have you returned all those things that were out in the barn?"

"Yes, Papa," answered the boy quietly. "We took them all back."

"Well, what did you do with the money?" Mr. Cane inquired. "You must have taken in some money."

"We haven't done an'thing with it--yet."

"What are you _going_ to do with it?" asked the merciless inquisitor.

"Why,--why, we were thinking about sending it to the President, so he could put it back in the treasury."

"Conscience money, eh?" demanded Mr. Cane. "Well, it's a great relief to discover that you _have_ a conscience. But why don't you satisfy your conscience by devoting it to the purpose for which you raised it?"

Sube looked up at his father with an expression of ineffable relief.

"_Could_ we do that?" he asked breathlessly.

"Why not?" replied Mr. Cane. "By the way, how much was there?"

"Twenty dollars and seventeen cents."

Mr. Cane uttered a low, long whistle. "And the auction was only half over when it was raided!" he murmured. "Mother, you ought to let this boy handle the next charity bazaar for the church."

CHAPTER XXV

STUNG

"I ain't hardly had a decent swim all summer," Sube complained to Gizzard one day late in August. "It's all right to go in on the sly once in a while, but when you got to do it all the time it gets to be a chestnut."

"Well, why don't we fix up some other swimmin'-hole?" suggested Gizzard.

"The Unionville hole is the only decent one there is!" returned Sube bitterly. "And I'm goin'ta fix that Bigmouth Bissett so's he won't come botherin' when _I'm_ in swimmin'! That's what I'm goin'ta do!"

Gizzard's interest was aroused at once. "What you goin' to do to 'em?"

he asked.

"Never you mind! I'll fix 'em! He'll be sorry he ever monkeyed around _me_!"

"But how'll you fix 'em?" Gizzard insisted.

"You jus' wait! I'll show you!"

To tell the truth Sube did not then know what he was going to do to his arch enemy. But he had supreme faith that there is always something to be done if one can only think of it. Relations had been strained ever since the limburger episode. Seth Bissett had sworn that he would avenge himself, and he was everywhere regarded as a gentleman of his word in matters of vengeance.

Accordingly, whenever Sube and his companions had desired to take a swim, they had deemed it advisable to post a sentry in a place where he could command a view of the approach to the swimming-hole. And as picket duty usually fell to Biscuit's lot no matter who counted out or how, Biscuit made slow progress in mastering the art of swimming in the water with the same degree of skill he exhibited on top of the kitchen table.

He was still inclined to swim like a fish--under water.

But he was a past-master at the art of "chawin' beef." He could untie knotted clothes faster than any other member of the gang--perhaps because he had had more practice--and he was familiar with every known penalty meted out to "the last man with his clo's off." He could tell with clairvoyant certainty who was "cracking stones"; and as a sentry he stood in a cla.s.s by himself. He never slept, he never loafed; he never slipped back to take a peek at the game of tag. But when the enemy approached he quickly spread the alarm so that the swimmers could s.n.a.t.c.h up their clothes and retire into the bushes.

At first the element of danger was exhilarating; then it became bothersome; and finally, intolerable. It was at this stage that Sube made known his intention to fix Seth Bissett. Not long afterwards he went into the silence and emerged with an idea. Then his actions became suspicious, and his face a.s.sumed a look of inscrutable determination.

The subsequent acts of Sube and Gizzard were baffling in the extreme.

They repaired to the upper story of the barn for a conference; but when Annie innocently entered the barn a few moments afterwards in quest of kindling wood, Sube's suspicions were aroused, for suspicions are one of the most precious possessions of boyhood.

"Bet she's follerin' us!" he whispered.

Gizzard glanced cautiously about before he replied, "Prob'ly."

"Let's get out of here and go to some place that's safe."

An adjournment was thereupon taken to the midst of the berry patch in the rear of the deserted house, to which they had fled the night Dan Lannon was after them. From there they returned to the barn and obtained the ball of strong twine that Sube had used on his box kite, after which they took a roundabout course that brought them at dusk to the Unionville Mill.

They slipped across the bridge and plunged into the jungle back of the swimming-hole; and there they lay in hiding until the last laggard swimmer had left. Then they stepped boldly into the clearing.

After a.s.suring himself that the coast was clear Sube drew back his sleeves in imitation of a prestidigitator. "Watch me closely, ladies and gent'mun!" he began in an undertone. "The hand is quicker than the eye."

He made a few baffling pa.s.ses with his hands and produced the ball of string. This he held aloft between his thumb and forefinger that each and all might see.

"I have here a simple little ball of twine, ladies and gent'mun! A simple little--"

"Aw, shut up!" cried Gizzard good naturedly. "And go on up that tree 'fore it gets so dark you can't see nuthin'!"

Sube immediately began to climb the huge leaning willow that overhung the pool, protesting meanwhile that the hand was quicker than the eye.

But after he had ascended a few feet he became singularly silent.

Between the darkness and the foliage Gizzard lost sight of him completely, but he did not appear to be alarmed, for he lay down on his back and gazed up at the stars that were just beginning to become visible. It was some time before Sube re-appeared laboriously lowering himself to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the sod he s.n.a.t.c.hed the ball of string from his teeth and spat vigorously.

"Rottenes' string I ever tasted!" he sputtered.

"Well," returned Gizzard, "if it's any worse'n chawin' a knot out of a porpoise-hide shoestring, I don't want any."

"But I got it fixed all right," said Sube.

Then Gizzard led the way into the shrubbery, followed by Sube, who carefully paid out the string as he went. An observer might have thought that the pair were intent upon outwitting a labyrinth; but a.s.suredly such was not their purpose. For after retiring a few paces into the underbrush, Sube tied the string securely to a sapling, and detaching the ball with his knife, put it into his pocket; then, taking hold of hands in order to keep together they made a wide detour to avoid coming in contact with the string, and started for home.

The next night was a memorable one in the annals of the Unionville swimming-hole. None of the bathers present that night could think of anything else for several hours afterwards; and the pangs of some of them lasted well into the next day, and even the day after that. The thing began just as Seth Bissett was poised on the bank for a dive.

He heard a vicious hum, and at almost the same instant felt something strike him a stinging blow on the ear. Before he could so much as raise his hand to investigate, another pierced his shoulder. Then a broadside swept his entire body.

The other members of the party were at a loss to account for his strange actions, other than by the hypothesis that he had been seized with sudden insanity; for, with an unearthly yell, he leaped into the air swinging his arms and legs like the wings of an ungainly windmill, and landed, after a short but successful flight, far out in the water.

As he came to the surface he took up the yell where he had left off and again began the windmill motions to the accompaniment of incoherent profanity. Then he went down again. By this time his strange conduct was perfectly understood by his companions, for they had themselves been attacked by the same insidious foe. A swarm of yellow-jacket hornets, proverbially mad, had descended upon them without apparent provocation, and wholly without warning.

As soon as the wily yellowjackets discovered that their prey was in the water, they hovered about over the surface, striking at everything that came up. And while mankind is, in a limited way, amphibious, surely he makes no claim of extensive submarine ability. This fact the murderous hordes seemed to have taken into consideration in carrying out their attack.