"No; but I brought something else."
The lad came into view, carrying his old hat in both hands, and the hat was full of eggs.
Scudder’s head seemed to swim. Through a haze he saw that hatful of eggs, and he was dazed and bewildered.
"What have you got?" he gasped.
"Fruit!" chuckled the boy. "Found ’em over at Jones’ barn. I gave you a hatful of fruit once before and didn’t get anything for it, and now I’m going to give you another hatful. Oh, golly! Tige, ain’t we goin’ to have some fun!"
A feeling of despair seized upon Uric Scudder.
"Don’t you dare!" he gasped.
The boy carefully placed the hat on the ground.
"The most of this fruit is dead ripe," he grinned. "It’s been layin’ in an old nest under the barn till it ripened off fust-rate. Now this, for instance"—selecting one of the eggs—"is the real thing. Jest open your mouth and let me see how nigh I can come to it."
"If you throw that at me——" began Uric.