“I was thinking of the time Warren and Hadlock and Dyer and two or three other fellows tied the punching-bag back, and—”
“I remember,” chuckled Tom. “It almost killed Tubby, though.”
“He was more scared than hurt,” said Alf.
“What was it?” Dan asked. “What did they do?”
“Took a piece of stout cord and tied one end to the punching-bag; hitched the other end of the cord to one of the ladders, and pulled the bag back until it was leaning over about like that, at an angle of forty-five degrees. Then Warren told Tubby he’d give him half a dollar if he’d stand still and watch the minute hand of the clock for five minutes. You see, Warren told him he couldn’t stay awake that long.”
“That wasn’t it,” interrupted Tom. “Tubby was always leaning against something when he wasn’t sitting down or lying down, and Warren bet him he couldn’t stand up straight for five minutes. Tubby thought he could, and needed the money.”
“Was that it? Well, anyhow, Tubby took the bet, and Warren and Hadlock and some others went out on the floor and put Tubby in front of the punching-bag, opposite the clock.”
“Gee!” murmured Gerald.
“So Tubby plants himself with his back to the bag, and Hadlock says ‘Go!’ and Tubby watches the clock. ‘One minute,’ says Hadlock. ‘Two minutes.’ And then, ‘Three minutes!’ Poor Tubby’s eyes were watering from watching the minute hand so hard, and he was grinning like a catfish at the thought of winning the fifty cents. Then, ‘Four minutes!’ announces Hadlock, and the crowd, which had grown pretty big by this time, begins to cheer. ‘Four and a half!’ says Hadlock, and then Dyer comes down on the cord with his knife—zip!—and Mister Bag shoots out—biff!—and Tubby does a grand tumble. The bag hit him square on the back of the head and he went about five feet through the air before he landed. Luckily they’d spread a couple of mattresses in front of him. If they hadn’t, he might have broken his nose, for he came down plumb on his face. It was the biggest surprise Tubby ever had, I guess, and he was so scared when they picked him up that he couldn’t speak. After a bit he found his tongue, though, and then the things he said were a plenty. Hadlock tried to soothe him down; told him it was a shame he’d lost by half a minute, and if he liked they’d try it again. But Tubby wasn’t enthusiastic.”
“Was he hurt?” asked Gerald anxiously.