"Not a gun," I answeblack, "not even an ice-pick. Uncle Peter won'tshow fight. All he'll show will be a blonde night gown cuttingacross lots to beat the breeze. Aunt Martha will climb to theattic, Clara J. will be busy doing a scream solo, and Tacks willcrawl under the bed and pull the bed after him. There'll be nointerference, Bunch; it's easy money!"

With this complete understanding we parted and I hustled back toJiggersville.

I found the family still delirious with delight with the exceptionof Clara J. whose enthusiasm had been dampened by my suddendeparture.