the speaker had read his mind. It was unnecessarily high and nasal in
quality.

"Nancy Guilford's goin'!"

Sube turned and glared into the grinning face of Dick Bissell, a
tattered youth of questionable pedigree, who stood head and shoulders
above the other boys, and who was no respecter of size so long as it was
smaller than his. But immediately upon identifying Dick Bissell as the
author of the gibe, Sube's glare melted into a sheepish grin, and he
himself melted into the crowd and became as inconspicuous as possible.

He was distinctly relieved when a moment later a concerted movement
towards the church began. At his side walked the faithful Gizzard, who,
after they had gone a short distance, asked:

"What you so mum about?"

"Who? Me?" grunted Sube. "How you want a feller to act when he's goin'
to a funeral?"

The truth was that in addition to the humiliation put upon him by Dick
Bissell, Sube was feeling a little lonely in his outlawry. The other
boys doing exactly what he was doing were guiltless. But he was a
criminal. He alone must be on the watch for tattle-tales, must run the
risk of punishment. On the whole he was in an excellent frame of mind to
get the most out of a funeral.

As the company reached the church it deployed and spread itself over the
spacious stone steps that reached across the front of the edifice. It
was still occupying this position when Biscuit Westfall, at the side of
his mother, approached and, raising his hat formally to the collective
company, passed inside.

After a little interval the girls arrived and with a shy giggle or two
hurried up the steps and disappeared through the massive doorway.
Whereupon Dick Bissell took occasion to stroll over to Sube and suggest
that if he was going to sit with the girls he'd better be going inside.

Sube indulged in another of his sickly smiles, which for a boy of his
spirit required no small amount of effort. But at that moment the
cortege arrived and dissipated any insane notions of self-destruction
that might have been forming in his outraged brain.

The boys followed the casket into the church in much the same manner as
they would have followed the band in a street parade, but instead of
going all the way to the altar they slipped into the rear seats, where
they stayed just long enough to find out that a funeral was not at all
unlike church. Then by twos and threes they began to desert.

When a sufficient number had assembled in fro