back
into the road again, travelin' wide and free, with the shawl streamin'
out behind and the nearest avenger two blocks behind us, when out jumps
a Johnny-on-the-spot citizen and gives him the low tackle. He was a
pussy, bald-headed little duffer, this citizen chap, and not bein' used
to blockin' runs he goes down underneath. Before they could untangle we
comes up, snakes Homer off the top of the heap, and skiddoos for all we
had left in us.

By the time that crowd of jay-hawkers comes boomin' down to Mother
Bickell's to view the remains we had the old girl up and settin' at the
front window with a light behind her. They asked each other a lot of
foolish questions and then concluded to go home.

While things was quietin' down we were making a grand rush to get Homer
into bed before he passed in altogether. Neither Leonidas nor me looked
for him to last more'n an hour or two after that stunt, and we were
thinkin' of taking him back in a box. But after he got his breath he
didn't say much except that he was plumb tired. We were still wonderin'
whether to send for a doctor or the coroner, when he rolls over with his
face to the wall and goes to sleep as comfortable as a kitten in a
basket.

It was in the middle of the forenoon before any of us shows up for
breakfast. We'd inspected Homer once, about eight o'clock, and found him
still sawin' wood, so we didn't try to get him up. But just as I was
openin' my second egg down he comes, walkin' a little stiff, but
otherwise as good as ever, if not better.

"How far was it that I ran last night, Mr. Dodge?" says he.

"About a mile and a half," says Leonidas, stating it generous. "And it
was as good amateur sprinting as I ever saw."

Homer cracked the first smile I'd seen him tackle and pulled up to the
table.

"I'm beginning to think," says he, "that there can't be much of a leak
in my heart, after all. When we get back to town to-night, Mr. McCabe,
we'll have another talk about those boxing lessons. Eggs? Yes, thank
you, Mrs. Bickell; about four, soft. And by the way, Dodge, what _was_
the date on that gravestone, anyway?"

CHAPTER II

What did we do with Homer, eh? Ah, forget it! Say, soon's he got back to
town and found he could navigate 'round by himself, he begins to count
up expenses. Then he asks us to put in a bill.

"Bill!" says I. "What for? I'm no hired man. I've been doin' this for
fun." Leonidas says the same.

But Homer wouldn't have it tha