George Allan England

“ He came around close to Bennington, and stood there mockingly in the dim aura of light that reflected through the drizzle, from the headlights. “A guy that don't know enough not to run out o' gas—”
“Squiffy,” articulated Bartholomew in a hard, tense voice, albeit a bit thickly by reason of his cut lip, “I am armed. I've got a revolver. Any ordinary man in my place would shoot you in your tracks and throw your carcass to the crows. ”

“ The hens, which Squiffy positively refused to help carry, grew ever more weighty. A piercing chill transfixed Bartholomew. He shivered, chattered, but grimly endured. To become a hero, must one not tread long paths of pain?
Thus at last, after several eternities, they reached the Porterville garage.
IF you have ever aroused a garage-man at something after two s of a cold September morn, and tried to swap four hens for a couple of gallons of gas, you can form some idea of the task that now—despite all chilliness—made Bartholomew sweat.
“Say! What the hell? Out o' gas, huh? An' no coin? Say! ”

“ But alas, Bartholomew failed utterly to discover any. There was no jack to be slipped. A thrice-over search of all his pockets revealed not above seventeen cents in chicken-feed. Realization of this horrendous catastrophe gave Bartholomew pause.
“Squiffy, I'm all out of change.”
“You are, huh? Gee, but you're a swell guy, aint you? Can't even raise the price of a fill o' gas! Some Rockyfeller!”
“Have you got any money, Squiffy?”
“Gee, I got forty-two cents.”
“That makes fifty-nine, between us. That's more than enough for two of gas, to get home on. Ill pay you your dollar, then. ”

“ Who're you? Mostly rum-runners an' chicken-thieves is out, this time o' night. Gee, you make me think of a guy I use to know at Hayton. A shrimp, he was, but his wife was the goods. Some pippin, I'll tell the world! He cruelized me, but she stuck up for me, she did. Gee, but he was the prize boob, an' then some! It's a shame to let 'em live, like that guy! An' gee—say, what you stoppin' for?”
Bennington jammed the car to a swift halt, and switched on the little dash-light. Only too horribly he recognized the carroty hair, freckles and flap-ears, the abhorred physiognomy, of Squiffy. ”

“ Things I wont do, if I can come back, and things I will do: I wont swear, smoke, sauce you, fight, pull out Sam's hair, ask for money, skin out at night, kill chickens, go with bad boys, be a bandit, sell spare tires and tools off your car. Gee, I don't like this school; the food is rotten. If I can't come back, anyhow send me a good fat chicken for Easter.'”
“I'll chicken him, if that young Beelzebub ever shows up here again!” Barty menaced. “He'd better try it, once!” ”

“ Memories of severe outrages that he had suffered at Walter's juvenile hands still deeply rankled—especially damages Bartholomew had been obliged to pay for destruction wrought by Squiffy among the Hayton poultry. “That young fiend, that immature but incarnate demon, never shall return. Not while I'm alive! Never, you hear?”
“But just listen to this, hon,” the comely Beatrice entreated. ”

“ Only a man!”
Oh, it was sublime, delicious!
FROM this ecstatic revery, through which now and then the crated birds clucked contentedly as if glad to be homeward bound again, Bartholomew was presently aroused by sight of a small and trudging figure in the road, a figure that his speeding headlights rapidly brought into proximity.
The figure turned, with coat-collar up and cap down, very plainly cold and wet. It began what is expressively known as “thumb-pointing,” to indicate that a lift would be acceptable. Bennington slowed his car. ”

“ There's a reward of one hundred dollars apiece for chicken-thieves, and I might as well clean up—beside saving my birds and teaching the thieves a good lesson. A chicken-thief's the meanest varmint alive, and I'd just as soon shoot a skunk as shoot one! ”

“ No human being could even look as guilty as he looked, and not be guilty. And didn't we actually find him making Selectman Ketcham's hens drunk, and playing they were pinwheels and rockets? Now that we've got a fine flock of prize Buff Orpingtons here at Idlewilde, d'you suppose I'd take any chances? There's been trouble enough this spring with chicken-thieves round here, as it is, without importing a regular chicken-murderer! Say no more about it, Beatrice ”

“ BARTHOLOMEW'S sole answer was to lay violent hands upon Squiffy and attempt to hurl him from the car.
It is not, however, easy to exert one's full strength—such as that may be—while seated in a motorcar. And Squiffy proved far tougher than any hard-boiled owl. ”

“ That's somepin!”
“Squiffy!” the outraged Bartholomew managed to stammer. “If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of this car while you're still alive!”
“Gee, is that so? Who's goin' to hurt me? You couldn't hurt a bug! Drive on! Why'n't you drive along home? If you can't, lemme at the wheel—I'll make the old bus go some! Say, you aint got nothin' to eat, have you?- There's them chickens! Gimme a chicken, an' I'll roast it. I like to make fires, but gee, you gotta gimme a match. That'd be swell, roastin' a chicken in the road! ”

“ No man can look as damn guilty as what you do, an' not be guilty! Give us the facts, now! Where'd you get that black eye an' cut lip? An' your clo'es all tore an' muddy? An' most of all, where'd you get them birds? ”