"Groser Gott wir loben dich;
Herr, wir preisen deiner stärke,"
when suddenly Nuderkopf Trinkelspiel emitted a most appalling yell, and followed it up with so many others of a similar character, that the song sank to a faltering termination, and the singers crowded around their disturber, scarcely knowing whether to attribute the disturbance to pain or to grace. Several minutes elapsed before Nuderkopf Trinkelspiel sought the cause of his agony, but when at length he extracted the pin from the seat of his trowsers and held it aloft in explanation, no one failed to comprehend the cause of his agitation. Then astonishment gave place to mystery, for it passed conjecture how the pin could even have got upon the bench, with several reliable brethren just behind Nuderkopf and one at either side of him. During the general arising, Jack considered it safer to start homeward to see the company that had been expected early in the evening, but he lingered outside the window just a moment, to see the excitement subside, and great was his mirth as he beheld the wondering faces of the honest Germans. Here he was joined by the Pinkshaw twin and two or three other boys, but just then Vater Offenstein reminded the congregation that time was rapidly bearing them on to eternity, so the brethren resumed their seats, and Jack was going to start for home when the Pinkshaw twin asked, perhaps forgetting Jack's new professions,
"What next?"
Lazy George Crayton remarked that he had brought some torpedoes which he had saved over from the fourth of July, but none of them had exploded when he threw them, perhaps because in the church he could not get good elbow-room when he threw.
Jack had determined not to make any more trouble, but if there was anything which he despised above all others, it was a person who could never think of but one way to do a thing. So he reproached George Crayton with being a dunderhead, and George replied that if somebody was smarter than somebody else, perhaps somebody would have the kindness to show how. So Jack thought carefully for a moment or two, and then asked if anyone had an old letter in his pocket. Nobody answered in the affirmative, but as Jack said that any stout sheet of paper a foot long would do, a boy who lived near by sped homeward, and soon returned with a sheet of foolscap. Jack rolled this into a tube, put several torpedoes into it, put his lips to one end by way of illustration, and remarked
"There!"
"I'll bet you can't blow them hard enough to snap," whispered the lazy George in reply.
Such an aspersion of the power of his lungs was too much for Jack's principles, so he peered cautiously about the church for an appropriate mark. Vater Offenstein was the most prominent and tempting one in sight, but him Jack regarded almost as the Lord's anointed. On either side of the pulpit, however, were large oil lamps, and inviting attention to the one which was nearest, Jack took deliberate aim and blew a mighty blast. He missed the lamp, but the wall behind the pulpit was hard enough to stop any small projectile, and against this the torpedoes crashed almost as a single one, and caused Vater Offenstein to jump nearly across the pulpit. Half a dozen of the faithful hurried out of doors, and after them, to see the fun, dashed all the occupants of the back seats, while from some unknown hiding place sprang the constable. Away flew the boys, all in the same direction, and after them went the constable, the brethren and the whole body of the scoffers. Jack and the Pinkshaw twin easily got away from their pursuers and found friendly cover in the darkness, but a confused sound of harsh voices, dominated by a loud wail, indicated that lazy George Crayton had been caught.
"Oh, oh, oh," exclaimed Jack in a hoarse whisper, "isn't it too dreadful?"