“'D'ye hear that, you that's to be Margaret O'Shaughnessy? You do? Well, then, as your husband that's to be in tin minutes, I order you to give that small divil what's comin' to him. D'ye hear me? Will yez obey me, or will yez not?'
“She didn't know what to do. You could see she wanted to—her fingers was itchin' to do it, but—And then Archie held up the ruins of the hat and commenced to laugh.
“That settled it. Next minute he was across her knee and gettin' what he'd been sufferin' for ever sence he was born; and gettin' all the back numbers along with it, too.
“And in the midst of the performance Sim Phinney leans over to me with the most heavenly, resigned expression on his face, and says he:
“'It ain't OUR fault, Hiram. We promised not to interfere.'”
“What did Sam Holden and his wife say when they got home?” asked Captain Sol, when the triumphant whoops over Archibald's righteous chastisement had subsided.
“We didn't give him much of a chance to say anything. I laid for him in the hall when he arrived and told him that Phinney had got a telegram and must leave immediate. He wanted to know why, and a whole lot more, but I told him we'd write it. Neither Sim nor me cared to face Cousin Harriet after her darlin' son had spun his yarn. Ha! ha! I'd like to have seen her face—from a safe distance.”
Captain Bailey Stitt cleared his throat. “Referrin' to them automobiles,” he said, “I—”
“Say, Sol,” interrupted Wingate, “did I ever tell you of Cap'n Jonadab's and my gettin' took up by the police when WE was in New York?”
“No,” replied the astounded depot master. “Took up by the POLICE?”