"Seward!" called Mr. Cane sternly. "Come here!"
Bang! The front door closed with sufficient violence to jar the entire house as Sube dashed up the street. Sube had heard his father's voice plainly in spite of the fact that he continued to assure himself that he had not.
He had proceeded only a short distance from home when Nancy Guilford and her mother loomed up before him. Sube rarely overlooked an opportunity to demonstrate to Mrs. Guilford his Chesterfieldian manners. But to-day he dodged past with nothing more than a bourgeois twitch at his cap; and railing under his breath at an unkind fate he sped on towards the barber shop.
But alas, he was too late. The door was locked, and the barber, in company with his wife, was just turning away as Sube came panting up.
"Mr. McInness! Mr. McInness!" he called feverishly as he caught sight of the retreating tonsorial.
Mr. McInness glanced back, then paused expectantly.
"I got here just in time!" Sube puffed. "I want to get my hair cut."
The barber scowled and looked at his watch. "Too late, son," he said. "You'll have to wait till to-morrow. It's after six."
"But I can't wait till to-morrow," Sube returned in his most persuasive tone. "I got to get it cut now!"
The barber shook his head. "Nuthin' doin', son," he said. "I run a union shop. If I didn't close up at six, the union'd be on my neck inside of thirty seconds." He made a move to start on. "You come back in the mornin' and I'll fix you up fine!"