Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 58

"How silly!" commented Fake.

"Awful chump," said Fraud.

"But we love him," purred Fake. "Him old. Him not last long. Then we have 'nother husband."

"That fun," giggled Fraud.

"Say, you're beginning to make me sick!" snapped the distressed victim.

"Call the boss of the house-call him! He can keep his harem!"

"You nervous," said Fake. "See girls dance. Be still."

"I see them," groaned Gunn, "and they see us. They're making sport of us! I didn't come here to be laughed at! I won't stand it."

"No stand-sit still," advised Fraud.

He gave over his efforts and fell to watching the dancers. They were very graceful, but he remembered that Coddington had spoken carelessly of them, declaring that the favorites of the harem were far more beautiful. To Zenas it seemed that the so-called favorites were big, husky ladies, while their free-and-easy manners, and their slang, filled him with aversion. He had fancied the beauties of a harem to be something entirely different from the ones who were boldly embracing him. And one of them had confessed that she had changed husbands sixteen times-or more! This in a land where he had supposed a man could have a number of wives, but that no wife ever had more than one husband.

The glamour of the harem was fast wearing off, as far as Zenas Gunn, of Fardale, was concerned. Already he was beginning to think he had seen quite enough of it.

Fake and Fraud were not inclined to keep still long. The former began to dally with the professor's whiskers, running her fingers through them and pulling them playfully.

"Pretty! pretty!" she cooed.

"Ba-a-a-a!" bleated Fraud, like a goat. "Wind go z-z-z-z-z."

"Quit your fooling!" half snarled the fretted old fellow, pus.h.i.+ng Fake's hand away.

Her gloved fingers seemed to catch in his whiskers and give them a fearful yank, as he thrust her hand aside.

He howled with pain.

"Nice hair," commented Fraud, giving a pull at the professor's wig and jerking it off. "Oh, see! Hair all loose! He look funny now!"

"Gimme that!" panted the professor, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the wig; but Fraud thrust it back of her, laughing mockingly behind her heavy veil.

She was strong, astonis.h.i.+ngly strong. He found he could not recover the wig by force, so he gave over the attempt.

"That nice," said Fake. "Behave, old Lobster. Pretty teeth. Bite Fake's little finger."

Before he even suspected her purpose she thrust her finger into his mouth. In some manner she caught hold of his upper set of false teeth and jerked them out.

Then both favorites uttered exclamations of seeming surprise and merriment, while the triumphant Fake held the extracted set of teeth above her head.

"Him fine!" she cried. "Hair come off! Teeth come out! Old Lobster lots funny!"

"We take old Lobster all to pieces," said Fraud. "Come on, Fake. Take him eyes out next."

"Hold on, both of you!" frothed Zenas. "Don't you dare carry thish thing any farsher! Gimme my wig! Gimme me my tees.h.!.+ Hand 'em over, or shomebody going to get hurt!"

By this time he was greatly enraged, but he found himself almost helpless in the hands of the favorites.

The dancing girls were continuing their gyrations, but he knew they were laughing.

He felt that he had been robbed of his dignity and humiliated, and he was eager to take flight from the harem. Again and again he sought to struggle up, but Fake and Fraud pulled him back and held him.

"Oh, good old Lobster!" they cooed. "We love old Lobster. Him great joke."

"I demand to be released!" gasped the professor. "If you hang onto me you'll regret it! I'm a desperate man! I'm dangerous!"

He had managed to recover his teeth and thrust them back into his mouth, and now Fraud sought to mollify him by restoring his wig, which she placed on his head, hind side foremost.

"If this is what the owner of a harem has to endure, I'm thankful I don't own one," declared Zenas.

Then they patted his cheeks and sought in various ways to pacify him.

"We like you," they protested.

"Well, you both have hanged queer ways of showing your affection, that's all I've got to say!" he retorted.

"Maybe old Lobster like to kiss me?" questioned Fraud.

"No; old Lobster like to kiss me," declared Fake.

"Who told you so much?" sneered Gunn.

"We say so, old Lobster have to kiss us," a.s.serted Fake.

"Have to?" gasped the perspiring pedagogue. "Why should I?"

"That rule," explained Fraud. "We want it, no man get away less he do so."

A groan of genuine distress escaped the lips of Zenas.

"I'm sure you don't want it," he hastened to say. "Just call Mr.

Coddington. I'm very ill! I must see a physician at once! Please let me off!"

But they were obdurate, both insisting on receiving a kiss from him.

"It's foolishness," he declared. "You have veils on."

"Oh, we move um," Fake hastened to say.

"We move um," echoed Fraud.

"And then will you call the boss of the house?"

"We have him called then," they promised.