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Late that night, when Big Tom had eaten to repletion of the watermelon, and smoked himself to sleep on one of One-Eye's cigars, Johnnie reached in around the jamb of Cis's door and cautiously drew that big suit box to him. In the morning it would have to join the books upstairs. However, for a happy, dark hour or two he could enjoy the outfit. How crisp and clean and strong it felt!
Action he fairly craved it. And continued those out-of-the-ordinary jobs. The cupboard shelves had not been cleaned this long time. He scrubbed them, and turned Cis's fancifully scissored shelf-papers. He washed the chairs, including the wheeled one. Each day, he worked till dark, then went to the roof. There, as he walked about, taking the air, he invariably thought about Cis.
Thus doubly clad, he looked exceedingly plump and padded. That was not the worst of it. The sleeves of the new coat showed. But all he had to do was draw up over them that pair of Cis's stockings which had kept his thin arms warm during the past winter. Of course his leggings and the shoes also showed, so he took these off.
Johnnie sighed, and winked two bright lashes, whereupon the priest lifted the boy's head and gave him a sip from Cis's cup of water. "Aw, a drink o' tea'll fix him all right," asserted Barber. "He ain't half as bad off as he pretends." "Don't talk t' me at all, Tom Barber!" commanded the priest. "For I've no temper for it as I look at the face and shoulders o' this lad that ye've whipped so cruel!
One-Eye took the cigar from his mouth. "It'd be a grand match for her," he conceded. His tone implied that the alliance with Royalty was by no means a remote possibility. "A-a-a-aw!" scoffed Johnnie, flashing up at One-Eye a wise smile. "All the girls at Cis's fac'try seen him, too, and they all like him just the same as she does. But the Prince, he's got t' marry a Princess." One-Eye agreed.
Slipping out of the big shirt once more, and borrowing Cis's mirror, he contrived, by skewing his head around, chinning first one shoulder, then the other, to get a meager look at his back. He appraised his spindling arms and legs. He thumped his flat chest. "Gee! Mister Perkins is dead right!" he admitted soberly. "I'm too skinny, and too thin through, and my complexion's too good."
The report of the number of speeches to be learnt took off the sting of Cis's disappointment, though she would not allow that it did so, declaring with truth that she could learn by hearing faster than any of the boys. Indeed, she did learn all Humfrey's speeches, and Antony's to boot, and assisted both of them with all her might in committing them to memory.
The cowboy seemed much embarrassed just at first, and avoided Cis's smiling look as she thanked him for the apple. Her little speech over, however, he soon warmed into quite a jovial mood. "Jes' had t' see sonny, here, t'night," he declared. "Y' know it's so seldom a feller meets up with a kid that's worth botherin' about.
And presently, the drying process over, and Cis's old toothbrush laid away, a pink and glowing body was bending and twisting close to the window, and shooting out its limbs.
When he came out of the bedroom it was to empty his garnerings into the stove and repeat the dust-gathering process in Cis's room, that cubby-hole, four-by-seven, which had no window, and doubtless had been intended for a storage place, or a bathroom free from draughts. It held no furniture at all only a long, low shelf and a dry-goods box.
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