"What's that!" cried Sube and Gizzard in a chorus.
"Yessir! The payroll officer came this mornin' and found Seth's face all blotchy 'cause he'd been on two or three drunks lately, and the officer said there was a lot of complaints against 'im, so he took 'im back to prison!"
"Did they take 'im jus' cause his face was all broke out?" asked Sube weakly.
"Oh, my no!" replied Biscuit. "Hi says he's been drunk every night for a month, hollerin' round and bustin' windows and all like that!"
"Hear that, Gizzard, ol' sock!" cried Sube, lustily thumping Gizzard on the chest. "Hear what he said!"
For an answer Gizzard returned a jovial body-blow, after which the two boys clinched and went down rolling over and over in the exuberance of their spirits.
The gang was hastily assembled for a swim, and soon with unrestrained shouts of joy they were tearing along the narrow path, undressing as they went. Sube was the first one in the water. As he came to the surface his companions thought they detected a peculiar expression on his face, but they threw themselves into the pool without stopping to investigate. Then they were sorry. For the pool was unspeakably polluted.
They hurriedly dragged themselves out on the bank, making faces expressive of disgust and disappointment. Sube was the first to speak.
"It's all off for this year!" he growled. "We might jus' well go up to the spring and wash this smelly ol' water off'm us. That rotten ol' pickle factory's opened up—"
"Pickle factory?" asked Biscuit. "What's the pickle factory got to do with it?"