OUT OF WHOLE CLOTH
As Cathead reached the bottom of the stairs, Sube dived under the bed. And as Cathead entered the pantry, Sube darted up the attic stairs and threw the tainted clothes far into the darkness. From the splash that followed he feared they might have landed in the rain water tank, but that could not be helped now. As he rapidly slid down the attic stairs he was thoroughly in sympathy with those who shed their brothers' blood so far as disposing of the corpus delicti was concerned.
Sube had reached his room in safety when he heard Cathead angrily scuffing up the stairs; and, wishing to have the appearance of doing something, he stepped over to the bureau and picked up a hairbrush. But when he took off his cap the hairbrush dropped from his nerveless fingers. His mutilated scalp fairly screamed at him!
In the excitement of the fight he had forgotten all about it. But there was no time to lose. Cathead was at the door. Sube mechanically pulled his cap far on his head, and sank limply down on the bed as Cathead came into the room peevishly charging him with being the biggest fibber out of captivity.
"There wasn't a cookie there, and you know it!" he cried.
"Annie must've hid 'em," returned Sube feebly.
Cathead's anger subsided as he caught sight of his brother's livid countenance. "What's the matter of you?" he asked.
"Nuthin'."
"You're as white as paper," declared Cathead. Then catching sight of his brother's swollen lip which in the semi-darkness of the hallway had escaped his notice, he asked, "How'd you hurt your lip?"
The natural thing would have been to tell Cathead the truth, all the truth, and nothing but the truth. But Sube did not care to do this. Not that he was afraid Cathead would tell; he had no thought of that. In regard to their joint delinquencies Cathead had always been absolutely leak-proof. Sube simply did not wish to put himself in Cathead's power; so he took what he considered to be the easiest way.