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"That's just what it is, and Jerry knew it as soon as he heard it. A hive of bees in this old live-oak, with perhaps a big store of honey laid up. Bluff, doesn't that tickle your palate? Well, it did Jerry's, for sure. He climbed up!" "After he had shot that deer, then?" asked Bluff. "Undoubtedly. I remember, now, that honey always appealed to Jerry more than any other sweet stuff.
It hardly needed glimpses of him bending over the spots where there were shoals along the tideway to understand that he was looking to see whether the one dearest wish of his heart was about to be fulfilled. "I guess he'll find some, at last," laughed Frank, after calling Jerry's attention to the fact that the other had gone. "Bluff is daft on the subject of oysters, all right.
So we cocked the bottle up on a rock and went back to the pirate-cave-entrance place to finish a game of smugglers. Wecanicut is a nice place to smuggle and do other dark deeds in, and I don't believe we'll ever be too old to think it's fun. This time we cut the rest of the tinfoil into roundish pieces with Jerry's jackknife, and stowed them into a cranny in the cave.
The more he allowed his thoughts to revel in the American ride and its delights, the more uncontrollable became his desire to see the one who had whirled with him in "Light-horse Jerry's" coach. "I wish to know how soon I am to see your mistress," he exclaimed, impulsively, sitting up and striking his companion's arm byway of emphasis.
Jerry was dumfounded and so must Danny and Chris have been, for they gasped. The voice that issued from the lips of the strange man was the voice of Whiteface, the clown, the new-found father of Jerry! Jerry's thoughts were paralyzed for a minute and he could only stare up at Robert Bowe, ordinary citizen, in stupefaction.
"He has been," said Mrs. Mullarkey. Kathleen looked up at Jerry and gurgled. "Never mind, Celia Jane," consoled Nora. "He'll be in the family, anyway." Celia Jane was greatly cheered by that consolation and brightened visibly, much to Jerry's relief. She kissed him good-by, throwing both arms tightly about his neck in her impetuous fashion.
Only too glad to beat a retreat His Highness picked up his cap and slipping from the room raced across the lawn in the direction of his own quarters. Jerry's prediction proved to be quite true for as His Highness neared the garage a hum of activity pervaded it.
He looked dangerous, I think, for Lloyd edged off a little. Marcia kept her gaze fixed upon his face and what she read there was hardly reassuring. "Jerry!" she cried again. "What does this mean? Your clothes are torn; your face scratched. Has has something happened to you?" The question was unfortunate, for it loosened Jerry's thick tongue. "Yes.
I knows a lady whose treatment of her husband is a dooplicate of Jerry's. She metes out the worst of it to that long-sufferin' shorthorn at every bend in the trail; it looks like he never wins a good word or a soft look from her once. An' yet when that party cashes in, whatever does the lady do? Takes a hooker of whiskey, puts in p'isen enough to down a dozen wolves, an' drinks off every drop.
"How in the world can I ever do it?" "Well, sing out when you want to stop. We'll hang you up in a tree, safe and sound, just as I did that wolf I got; and later on one of the boys can come for you with a horse," was Jerry's cheerful remark.
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