Sube Cane Part 31

Sube quickly turned around, and recognizing at a glance that the man belonged with the circus, cried exultantly:

"I've got 'im!"

"So I should judge," replied the man, smiling broadly.

At this moment the broken ranks of the Fourth Section began to arrive, badly winded but still swearing magnificently.

"What do you know about that, boys!" shouted the red-faced individual, pointing with his milk-white whip at a poster on the barn-door.

It was a relic of Sube's circus.

OnLY GenUWiNe BLooD SweATTiNg BoHemuTH oF HoLy WRiT iN cAPiTiVity ADmiSion 5sTc 1o MArbLeS oR 20 PiNs

"Did you capture him yourself?" asked the red-faced individual as he clambered heavily from the runabout.

"Yes, sir."

"May I see him?"

Sube's a.s.surance fled. His bashful reply was almost inaudible. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Five cents, I suppose," said the showman loudly as he pressed an unexpected nickel into Sube's hand and peered into the barn.

Sube backed away a few steps and stood picking at the nickel with his thumbnail when the showman turned from the door and said to the circus hands:

"He's in there all right. Go after him!" Then placing a large red hand on Sube's shoulder he added, "Young man, my name's Barney. I've been in the show business a good many years. But when you get ready to take your show on the road, I'll get ready to retire. You've got _me_ skinned a mile!"

Supposing that this was some sort of a doubtful compliment Sube hung his head. He rubbed his lips with the back of his hand. He bored his heel into the earth. A sudden feeling of aversion for the loud-mouthed showman and his cursing a.s.sistants swept over him. He decided to abandon his career as a showman. And without raising his eyes he said:

"I ain't goin' int' the show business. I'm goin' to be a lawyer."

CHAPTER XX

TEN KNIGHTS IN A BARROOM

Sube Cane had often seen his father wrapped in contemplation, so he knew how the thing ought to be done. He accordingly clasped his hands behind his back beneath the place where coat-tails should have been, drew his eyebrows into a scowl, pursed his lips, and fixed his gaze on the object to be considered.

This proved to be a hole; a small hole in the side of ol' Uncle George Bond's barn, close to the ground. It was perfectly rounded at the top and equipped with a neat sliding-door; and it did look interesting. But then, any hole that there is even the slightest possibility of crawling through looks interesting to a boy. Sube was so engrossed in his contemplations that he started perceptibly on hearing a gruff voice inquire what he thought he was doing there.

He quickly withdrew his hands from underneath the imaginary coat-tails and released the scowl. Then he glanced around to find himself looking into the grinning face of his friend, Hon. Gizzard Tobin.

"Thought you'd scare me, didn't you?" Sube growled.

"_Thought_ so!" cried Gizzard. "Say! You jumped a mile!"

"Well, I guess I didn't jump! I knew it was you all the time."

"Yes, you didn't! What'd you jump for, then?"

"Didn't jump. Jus' moved a little."

"I should say you _did_ move! You thought ol' Uncle George was right after you!"

"That shows how much you know about it," Sube sneered as he bent over to examine the hole at closer range.

Gizzard vaulted the fence and came up beside him. "What you lookin' at that ol' chicken-hole for?" he asked disdainfully.

Sube c.o.c.ked his head over on one side as if to view the problem from another angle and replied: "I was jus' wonderin'."

"What about?"

"Jus' wonderin' if a feller could crawl through there," said Sube pointing a stubby finger at the hole.

"You couldn't, and I wouldn't want to," replied Gizzard with unaccustomed promptness.

"Why couldn't I?" asked Sube deliberately.

"'Cause that there slide's hooked on the inside!"

Sube muttered something unintelligible as he bent over and inserted his finger under the sliding-door. He raised it far enough to demonstrate that it was not fastened, and dropped it as he asked:

"Now why wouldn't you want to?"

"S'pose I want ol' Uncle George to kick the liver out of _me_! Why, I jus' looked in the door one day when he was in there, and he swore at me till I was out of sight; and he said if he ever caught me on his premises again, he'd kick the liver out of me! And I bet he would, too!"

Relatively speaking, ol' Uncle George Bond was n.o.body's uncle; but as a matter of nomenclature he was everybody's. He was death on boys, to be sure. However, his unfriendly att.i.tude was of very little importance at this particular time because he was out of town.

"Gone to Sodus for a month," was the information Sube presently imparted.

"What makes you think so?" asked the skeptical Gizzard, still intent on the preservation of his liver.

"Saw him buy his ticket and get on the train this mornin'. That's what makes me think so! And I heard him tell the agent he was goin' for a month's vacation!"

"All right," said Gizzard. "I'll go in there if you will--if we can get in."

Sube squeezed through without a great deal of difficulty; but Gizzard stuck fast somewhere about amids.h.i.+ps. He kicked and wriggled while Sube pulled, but it was all in vain. It was necessary for Gizzard to back out and s.h.i.+ft his cargo before he could come into port. He presently handed in to Sube one baseball, one broken padlock, one bicycle-wrench, one slingshot, and other articles too numerous to mention; and having been thus lightened, he came through without difficulty.

The wonders of the forbidden country unfolded with such bewildering rapidity that the youthful explorers had difficulty in deciding what to try first. However, they soon concluded to redecorate the interior of the barn with remnants left over from the recent painting of ol' Uncle George's house.

When they had tired of being painters they opened a carpenter shop and started to build a boat out of some old boards with the aid of ol' Uncle George's razor-edged tools. This went very well until Sube hammered his thumb, when he retired from the concern and left Gizzard to complete the vessel alone; but after Gizzard had planed a thin layer from the end of his finger he too retired, and the carpenter business went to the wall.

They next engaged in the manufacture of cider, opening a mill in a corner of the barn, where they found a small hand-press. Sube turned the crank while Gizzard poured in bushels of imaginary apples. Then they "put on the brakes" to squeeze out the imaginary juice, which was drawn from a spigot at the bottom in real gla.s.ses and bottles with which the place seemed to abound. After a little the strain on their imagination became so great that something had to be done to relieve it.

"If we jus' had a few apples we could make a little _real_ cider," Sube suggested tentatively.