his
occasion Cousin Charley finally gained the mastery by his threats not to
take the younger boy to the circus.

It was agreed that Cousin Charley should tell the folks of the day's
adventure. As they neared home their mirth diminished as their fears
increased: how to run the gauntlet, as it were. So far they had avoided
the highways, skulking through thicket and fields. As they neared the
old Smouse place, now occupied by Mart Massie as a dairy farm, the
milkman was hitching up preparatory to making his usual rounds.

Cousin Charley, perhaps feeling it would be a good rehearsal, recounted
the story he had concocted to relate to Alfred's parents. The milkman
was greatly interested in the thrilling narrative and consented to store
the boys in the back end of the milk wagon, delivering them when he
delivered the milk to their folks. The boys thought it a very long milk
route. Alfred had Cousin Charley as nearly nervous as his nature would
permit by more than once threatening to get out and walk home.

When they neared home, passing through Church Street, Alfred made a move
to leave the wagon, crawling over the end gate backwards, his limbs
dangling outside, his head and body hid by the closely drawn curtains.
Cousin Charley, after struggling, pulled him into the wagon under cover.

[Illustration: "If Ye Ain't Lyin' About This and I'm Hopin' Ye Air"]

Several women had caught sight of the limbs and the unmentionable
garments. While the driver was entirely ignorant of the cause, he was
forever disgraced on this part of his route. An old Scotch lady declared
to several of her neighbors the "shameless hussy was bare to the kilt."

Arriving in front of Alfred's home, Cousin Charley hustled him into the
house the front way as Lin came up the path from the back part of the
house in answer to the bell of the milkman, who was of the gossiping
kind, and managed to give Lin the outlines of Cousin Charley's story as
he drew the milk and cream from his large cans.

Lin could scarcely wait until he poured the milk into her pitcher.
Giving the milk vendor a withering look, she slammed the gate and
hissed:

"I'll bet a fippennybit that's another of Charley's durn lies."

Hurrying into the kitchen she seized a rolling pin, her favorite weapon.
Two stairs at a time she bounded, reaching the room where Cousin Charley
had related about half of the harassing details of the rescue of Alfred.
This was his story:

"He had stopped to