ng 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!

CHAPTER V

JOHN HENRY ON STREET CAR ETIQUETTE

"Ding!"

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

[Illustration: "Naw, we don't take no transfers, needer!"]

"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 cigars. I call it a Bad Boy cigar
because as soon as it goes out it gets awful noisy.

It was away uptown and the car was empty with the exception of a couple
of benches.

Two blocks further on the car stopped and a stout lady looked over the
situation.

I think she must have been color blind, because she didn't see the
empty seats ahead and decided to cast her lot with me.

It was a terrific moment.

"Peter," I said to myself, "don't be a Hog--move over!"

And virtue was triumphant.

I moved over, and the stout lady settled squashfully into the end seat.

Her displacement was about fifteen cents' worth of bench.

After we had gone about ten blocks more every seat