Mr. Cane, "it is in on the parlor
table." And he resumed the reading of his paper.

For a moment Sube was immovable. Then it dawned on him. The Holy Writ
was just another name for the Bible. And those figures underneath the
portrait of his favorite were a reference to the Book of Job. He would
go back and see what they were.

Half an hour later as Mr. Cane stepped behind the davenport in the
parlor to adjust a screen, he nearly fell over the boy.

"What in thunder are you doing there?" he demanded irritably.

"Sir?"

"I said, 'What are you doing there?'"

"Reading." Sube tried to cover up the object of his perusal by lying on
top of it; but this move only excited further curiosity on the part of
his father.

"What are you reading?"

"A book."

Evasion was always aggravating to Mr. Cane. "What book?" he cried as he
struggled to keep down his rising temper.

"This one right here." Sube indicated it with a motion of his body.

"What is the name of it?" thundered the exasperated parent.

"Sir?"

"You heard what I said!"

"The name of this book?"

Mr. Cane did not deign to answer. He simply glowered, opening and
closing his hands as if they itched to take hold of something.

Sube understood the look and the convulsive movement of the hands, and
made haste to answer: "Why, the name of it's the--" he was compelled to
turn the book over and examine the title--"the Bible," he mumbled.

"What's that?" asked Mr. Cane petulantly. "Speak so a person can
understand you! Don't mumble."

Sube hung his head as he murmured, "I said, 'the Bible.'"

Mr. Cane softened instantly. He thought he had discovered an
undreamed-of spark of reverence in his son. "That's a very good book
for you to read," he said kindly. "I hope you'll read it every day."

If Mr. Cane had looked into the parlor two minutes later, he would have
realized his mistake. For Sube carefully tore from the Holy Writ a
single page which he folded up compactly and thrust deep into his
hip-pocket. At that moment he heard his mother's voice calling him; and
hurriedly thrusting aside the screen his father had so carefully
adjusted, he leaped from the window and was gone.

As Sube's showmanship developed, his manners dwindled. Sometimes it
seemed to his family that his reason was tottering. One evening at
dinner he humiliated his parents and irritated beyond words a dyspeptic
jurist who was his father's guest, by interjecting into the conversation
obser