Billy gasped and proceeded to pull the suit on over his messenger boy's uniform.
"Stand on your head."
Billy knew how to do this. He had practiced it often enough against fences when he should have been delivering messages.
Taking one of Billy's trouser legs in each hand, Mr. Gas gave a quick jerk and Billy found himself standing on his feet with the rubber suit inside of his uniform.
"There," said Mr. Gas, "that's done—the next thing is to blow you up."
"Oh! Mr. Gas, please don't do that," said Billy, thinking of gunpowder and things.
"With a hot air pump—stand quiet," chug-chug-ff-chug-ff-squee-e went the pump and there stood Billy like a great round butter ball. His uniform fitted as close and snug on the rubber suit as the skin on an onion. For that was a peculiar property of the rubber suit; any clothes, loose, tight or otherwise were bound to fit over it.
"Thank you sir," said Billy looking down and trying to see his foot, "but—"
"Here's the hot air pump; put it in your pocket.—Now—be careful, don't jump or you'll bump your head. You're ready now to hunt Bogie Man."