“I don’t know what dad’ll say. There’ll be an awful fuss. Just give me a box on the ear, won’t you?”
“What for?”
“I’ll tell dad you gave me an awful clip on the side of the head, and ran off, though I tried to stop you.”
“All right,” said Harry, laughing.
He gave Joel the required box on the ear, tripped him up, laying him gently on his back on the landing, and then, with a friendly “good-by,” he ran down the stairs, and before Mrs. Fox returned from her call was a mile away.
She found Joel wiping his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Joel?” she asked.
“That boy, Harry, called me upstairs, and got me to open the door. Then he gave me an almighty clip on the side of my head that almost stunned me, then he knocked me over, and ran out of the house as fast as he could run—my head aches awful!”
“The owdacious young ruffian!” ejaculated Mrs. Fox. “To beat my poor, dear Joel so! Never mind. Joel, dear, I’ll give you a piece of pie and some cake. As for that boy, he’ll be hung some day, I reckon!”
After eating the cake and pie, which were luxuries in that frugal household, Joel said he felt better. He went out behind the house, and taking out the five-dollar note, surveyed it with great satisfaction.