"I be," said Bumbus; "who's your friend?"
"Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative," shouted that youth, drawing his cap pistol. "But I shall sell my life dearly," and he snapped the cap at Bumbus. How it did make Bumbus jump, but instead of falling dead in his tracks as they do in dime novels, he seized Billy's collar with one hand and reached for the boy detective's collar with the other.
"Missed!" cried Snawksnaw, throwing his pistol to the ground; "ten thousand furies. I don't know what old Sneuth would do now, but I know what I'm going to do," and he ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.
"Good riddance," said Bumbus, laughing, "which proves beyond a doubt that the wicked flourish like a green bay rum tree."
"How is that?" asked Billy.
"Meaning that no matter how close the shave, green bay rum can face it."
"I suppose you are going to take me prisoner to the factory," said Billy, wishing to have the worst over as soon as possible.
"My, my, but you are a good guesser," then calling loudly, "Nickel Plate, Drone—here is Billy Bounce."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed Nickel Plate, striding through the corn. "So Billy Bounce is once more in our power, eh! This time he shall not escape us."
"Yaw-haw," yawned a sleepy-looking Bee, coming slowly out of the factory.