The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1916-10-11

not theory"
Hartley got up, pretty average
gingerly. and they climbed into
the skiff. | pushed off and be-
gun to row.
The tide was going out fast
and twas hard pull, three of us
In that little skiff. but by and by
we reached the main. And there
was Scudder's hired boy waiting
for us. He had the hens-a doz-
en- of 'em-jammed into one lath
coop. The door of It was fastened
with shaky wood button.
where's the pig?" says Hart
ley.
Here he is"
We could hear him. He want
in box at all, as he'd ought to
have been according to contract,
but setting in the sand with his
hind legs tied together with
string.
Little he was, and thin, but the
Heavenlies fell down and wor-
shipped him like he was a hog
angel.
| loaded the critters into the
skiff-the pig fairly sung psalms
while | was doing it-and then
the Twins climbed aboard.
"All right, skipper" says Van.
"Shove off,"
Just minute" says |. what
am I going to do-take the next
train? This transport seems to be
pretty well loaded"
1t was. Van Brunt was on the
amidships thwart. Hartley was up
in the bow, with the pig between
his knees. The chicken coop was
piled in the siren. l didn't exact
ly kneel, but l straddled across
the stern somehow, with the butt
end of the hen roost in my lap
and my feet over each rail, just
clear of the wet.
We moved off stately and slow
like an ocean liner leaving her
dock. Van rowed like a good one
till he got about two-thirds of the
way across. Then the tide got a
grip on us and he commenced to
go slower, and groan.
By and by Hartley spoke up.
What makes this pig kick
SOL" says he.
"You look out he don't kick
that string off his legs" | hol-
lers.
He bent forward and looked
down. "Why!" says he. '"I'll be
shot if he hasn't done it already"
Hang on to him then!" | yells.
For the land sakes don't let him
loose"
Van Brunt gives final groan
and stops the oars.
mo use, skipper" he says. my
cucumber recreation has put me
out of the race. | wouldn't row
another stroke for the control of
the Standard Oil. You'll have to
be shofer the rest of the way"
Then the pesky idiot stood up
to stretch, leaving the oars in the
rowlocks. Course the skiff swung
broadside on and wave knocked
the starboard oar overheard. Hart
ley see 1t going and made a jump
and a grab. He missed it, you
might know, but he let go of the
pig.
l ripped out lively kind of
speech and dove for the port oar.
The hen coop was in my way and
1t and me went headfirst into Van
Brunt's shirt front. When | got
out of the mix-up, both oars was
ten yards astern, the pig was do
ing three laps minute over us
and under the thwarts, and the
hens was all out of jail and proud
of it. Likewise we was drifting
out to sea.
"Well!" says l. "This is nice,
This last part was to a pullet that
amt it? Get out, you varmint!"
was Tapping on my shoulders.
Would you believe 1t, all them
Heavenly looms done was to laugh.
They Just roared. l was mad
clean through.
This skiff won't float forty
minutes, loaded the way she is, II
she drifts outside that point yon-
der" l yells.
Then she mustn't drift there"
says Van, cheerful. Il don't want
to get wet-not now, with James
gone. This is the only present
able suit I've got left. II this is
wrecked you'll have to press it,
SOL"
My, but | was hopping! Talk
ing about pressing clothes, and us
next door to going to the bottom.
''I'll press nothing" says /.
and I'll say right now, Mr.. Van
Brunt, that | like you both first
rate-when you amt crazy-but
either you'll have to get me a
helper. or I'll have to quit. That
is, IL we get out of this mess
alive, which amt likely"
All the time l was preaching
this way | was Juggling at the
'midships thwart. Finally l got
it loose and showed 1t over the
stern. l was going to try to scull
with IL.
The Heavenlies was complete
ly upset. Not by the fear of
drowning-drat' em. / don't CAL
late they was afraid of anything
but my talk of quitting seemed
to knock 'em silly.
by Jove, you know" says
Van. This is serious, skipper.
You cant mean it."