Somebody had the presence of mind to run for Dr. Richards, but he was not in his office. Efforts to get in touch with any of the other physicians in town failed. They were all at the hospital watching the performance of a rare operation by an eminent surgeon from a nearby city. So the women of the Temperance Union helped the stricken boys to their respective homes as best they could, that being considered the proper place to die.
That it was a case of wholesale poisoning was readily apparent to all but the victims. And each mother upon receiving her writhing son, put into practise her idea of first aid to the poisoned. Stucky Richards' mother tried the stomach pump without fatal results. Mrs. Sigsbee used a mustard plaster on Cottontop's abdomen and camphor on his temples with about equal success. Biscuit's mother prayed; but rather for her son's forgiveness than his recovery.
The Cane boys were put to bed and compelled to drink several quarts of tepid soapsuds while their father was rushing home from the office.
"What have you been eating?" he demanded breathlessly when, at last, he reached Sube's bedside.
"Nu—nu—nuthin'," Sube managed to gulp out.
"Now think hard," urged Mr. Cane sternly. "You must have eaten something or you wouldn't be so sick. Think hard! What did you eat this afternoon, all you boys together?"
"Nu—nu—nuthin'," was Sube's hopeless response.
"Now take your time," said Mr. Cane more soothingly. "Think over everything you did this afternoon—everywhere you went—and I'm sure you'll be able to remember eating something! Doesn't that remind you of something?"
"Nu—nu—no, I told you!" sobbed Sube hoarsely, taking advantage of his sickness to indulge in a little impertinence.
But his father overlooked it and tried another method of interrogation. "Where did you go right after lunch?" he asked.