"But what is so funny about it?" insisted Mrs. Cane. "If I didn't know you were both teetotalers I should certainly think you men had been drinking."
The doctor subdued his laughter with an effort as he said: "It's Sube I'm laughing at!"
Sube's magazine fell to the floor; he half stood up, then dropped back into his chair stiff as a poker.
"Isn't he immense!" howled the doctor. "Isn't he delicious! That boy will make his mark in the world!"
"But what has he to do with it?" asked Mrs. Cane, glancing at the boy's open mouth and popping eyes.
"Oh—oh, nothing to do with that," stammered the doctor. "I was just laughing at the way he was sitting there reading. I wanted to come in and get a look at him!"
"A look at him?" asked she, mystified.
"Why, yes!" roared the doctor. "He's had his head shingled and I hadn't seen him!"
As soon as the doctor had gone Mrs. Cane hurried her husband to his room for dry clothing. Sube heard with bitterness the sound of their suppressed laughter.
"That's right," he muttered. "Laugh at some joke of ol' Doc Richards and then come down and whale the daylights out of me—"