CHAPTER XIII
THE EVER-GLORIOUS FOURTH
Probably the longest period of time that a boy is capable of comprehending is that which drags itself out between one Fourth of July and the next. From Christmas to Christmas is not nearly so long. This is a question that modern calendar makers should investigate, as Julius Cæsar seems to have overlooked it.
But in spite of everything the Fourth of July was actually approaching. It was only days away. Sube viewed the advent of the festival with more than ordinary equanimity. He still had two dollars left from the flyer in cats, and the authorities had apparently relaxed their efforts to get him. His continued passing of Dan Lannon on the other side of the street was simply the survival of an inborn prejudice against the conservators of law and order. It couldn't have been timidity.
As far as Sube and Gizzard were concerned, the customary pre-holiday rush for remunerative employment was a thing of the past. They lolled luxuriantly in the shade while the other boys were picking neighborhood cherries, manicuring the lawns and doing what they were pleased to call "odd jobs."
"What's the use killin' ourselves workin'?" Sube asked Gizzard one day as they lazily passed a ball back and forth in a listless game of catch. "Of course," he added in the bored tone of the idle rich, "if I didn't have money, I s'pose I'd get busy, too. I always like to give the ever-glorious Fourth a good send-off."
At the term "ever-glorious" Gizzard's hand was poised in air. He was tempted to put Sube out of his misery on the spot; but a natural repugnance to the destruction of human life stayed the stroke, and he returned the ball without intent to kill, albeit a little faster than Sube regarded as entirely necessary.
"Ouch!" cried Sube as the ball stung his bare hand. "Say! What you think you're playin'? Stinger? I'll show you that two can play at that game!"
He returned the ball with a vengeance.
Gizzard stepped aside and let it pass. "If you're goin' to sling that hot stuff you can chase it yourself," he muttered sullenly as he threw himself down on the grass.