Evaline. Hss-s-s-sh!"

   The warning was too late.

   The Scourges of the Swamp had discovered the cage and drew nearer.

   "He laughs at us," whispered Professor Glueface; "now he is telling her that the cage is only made of steel and it is a cinch. He has gone to get his drill. What is to be done?"

   "In the interests of science," Uncle William whispered, "let us sneak out and run for the police with all our hearts."

   And this they did while Percy was getting his drill ready.

   Time, for the first 100 yards, nine seconds flat; for the rest of the distance about ten seconds on the average.

   The committee has not yet reported whether or not there is malaria in a mosquito's bite, because they didn't wait to let him bite them.

   Stung!

   "Ding!"

   "Naw, we don't take no transfers, needer! Aw, chase yerself!"

   "Ding, ding!"

   For my part I haven't been able to figure it out, but Uncle Peter is the lad who has made a profound study of that street car proposition known as the End-Seat Hog.

   I'm going to pass you out a talk he handed me a few evenings ago on that subject.

   Pipe!

   Suffering crumpets, John! I don't know anything about this end seat business, and the more I try to find out the more complex becomes the problem.

   I've been up and down and over and across in the surface cars, John, and my experience is ornamented by ripped trousers and discolored shins, but my intellect blows out a fuse every time I try to dope out the real way not to be an End-Seat Hog.

   Last Monday I jumped on an open-face car and it seemed that all the world was filled with joy and good wishes.

   I was smoking one of those Bad Boy 

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