Vinegar took out a soiled handkerchief and mopped the copious sweat from his beaming face.
“Lawd,” he sighed in delighted tones. “Ain’t it hot!”
“Lay off dat long-tail prancin’-albert coat, Revun,” Skeeter said irritably. “You oughter run yo’se’f through a wringer befo’ you wear dem clothes—dey makes you too moistuous—you’s spoutin’ water like a whale right now!”
Vinegar sprang up gladly and pulled off his coat.
Then he glanced at his wrists in shocked surprise, and began to put on his coat again with all possible haste.
But sharp-eyed Skeeter Butts was too quick for him. He sprang up, seized the coat, and wrenched it away.
“Hol’ on, Vinegar!” he barked. “Whut you doin’ wid all dat harness on yo’ wrists?”
Vinegar pulled back his big white cuffs and sheepishly displayed the “harness.”
Around each wrist a large leather strap was securely bound, and from each strap, projecting toward Vinegar’s fingers was a powerful iron hook with a sharp point!
“Whut in de name of mud is dat fer?” Skeeter howled.