give a prize for the first one who sees and speaks to this unhappy
spirit--won't it be jolly? Where are you going, John?"

"Me, to the undertakers--I mean I must run back to town. That
telegram this morning--important business--forgot all about it--see
you later--don't breathe till I get back--I mean, don't live till
I--Oh! the devil!"

Just then I fell over the lawn mower, picked myself up hastily and
rushed off to town to find Bunch for I was certainly up against it
good and hard.




CHAPTER III.

JOHN HENRY'S BURGLAR.

When finally I located Bunch and told him the bitter truth he acted
like a zee-zee boy in a Wheel House.

Laugh! Say! he just threw out his chest and cackled a solo that
fairly bit its way through my anatomy.

Every once in a white he'd give me the red-faced glare and
snicker, "Oh, you mark! You Cincherine! You to the seltzer
bottle--fizz!--fizz! The only and original Wheeze Puller, not!
You're all right--backwards!"