“I’ll call that meetin’ for to-morrow,” says she, “and have the challenge ready so’s you can publish it in the next paper.”
“Got a picture of you?” says he. “I’d like to p-print it the day the challenge comes out.”
Well, the way she jerked one out of the plush album and gave it to him would have made you scairt. She jest tore it out of the page without waiting to draw it out of the slits.
“Mark Tidd,” says she, “the club’ll give you a special vote of thanks for this,” she says.
Mark he said something sugary to her and then we left, and he kept his face straight till we got around the corner. Then he just leaned up against a tree and shook like a plate of jelly. I don’t know as I ever saw him laugh harder, and I laughed, too, though it wasn’t so funny to me, for I was thinking what a slick way he had about him. My goodness! I’d hate to have Mark Tidd want me to do something I didn’t want to, because, before I knew it, he’d have me all through with it.
We went back to the office, where Plunk and Tallow were keeping shop, and who should be there but the Man With the Black Gloves. Yes, sir, he just went in ahead of us, and he was writing another advertisement to be put in the paper. It went like this:
Jethro: Same time. Same place. Important. G. G. G.
“Well,” says Mark, when he had gone out, “I guess we got to m-make another t-trip to that bridge.”
CHAPTER XV
Next afternoon late Mrs. Strubber came in with a challenge to the Home Culturers, all drawn up and ready to print. Mark had sent her picture away to have a cut made, and as soon as the challenge came in we took it right out to Tecumseh Androcles Spat to have him set it in type. He read it over once, and then he read it over twice, and then he reached for his coat.