Page:Hugh Pendexter--Tiberius Smith.djvu/309

 forced by the rising sun, revealed for the first time what those captains of industry had been doing. During the night they had enclosed us and our villa in a palisade of young trees and slabs of bark; while at the other end of the corral the tawny form of our recent visitor walked nervously back and forth with slow, gliding step. Our host had prepared a little Roman holiday, and it was the anticipation of this treat that incited him to chortle so merrily on yester-eve.

"‘We're the newer, better breakfast-food,' explained Tib, as he tried to wipe the nightmare from his eyes. Then he gazed on me cunningly and demanded, 'Don't play it too strong on the old man, Billy. I feel doped; but is that—or is it not—'

"‘It is,' I gasped. 'For my sake come out of it. It's real.'

"‘Enough to scare a scarlatina germ into being sterilized?' he lisped. 'And, oh, for the touch of a Maxim gun and the sound—'

"‘We've only our pocket-knives,' I reminded, going so limber I had to clutch his hysterical shoulder for support.

"My grasp seemed to jolt him towards reason a bit; for after looking at me inquiringly he appreciated the situation and said, more soberly: 'We must show 'em the early martyrs weren't the only hardy people, Billy. Pocket-knives only, and—