l as if they were
grains of gold.

"I've got 'em!" he triumphantly declared. "This is my fu'st swarm this
spring. I thought the blamed things was goin' to git away, but I've got
'em. Giner'ly they light on a tree when they're swarmin', or on
somethin' green!"

"That's why they struck Veazie!" some one shouted from the crowd.

"Can I get up?" Veazie gasped. "I'm wetter than the thea!"

"Yes, young man, an' I'm 'bliged to ye. The rest of 'em will find their
way to the queen, I guess. When these bees makes honey, if you'll come
over I'll give you a hunk."

CHAPTER IX.

SHOOTING.

Lew Veazie was a sorry sight when he got up from the ground. The water
had converted the soil into mud, which plastered him now from head to
foot. And here and there on his face and hands were red spots made by
the bee stings.

Gene Skelding was flailing at some bees that did not seem to have
discovered that the queen was captured and their rightful domicile was
the farmer's pail. There were other bees also at liberty, and one of
them, angered no doubt by the turn of events, popped a stinger into the
cuticle of Bink Stubbs.

"Scatt!" shrieked Bink. "Get away from here, or I'll murder you!"

Browning moved back, for a bee seemed to be making a desperate effort to
single him out as a victim. Then he stuck his pipe into his mouth,
quickly fished out some tobacco, and crammed the bowl full, and lighted
it.

"Smoke 'em off!" he said. "That's a good way to fight bees."

"And tobacco smoke keeps away other female critters!" laughed Danny,
trying rather vainly to imitate the peculiar quality in the farmer's
speech. "That's the reason you have never been popular with the fair.
Now there is Veazie----"

"What about cigarettes?" drawled Browning, making a fog round his head.
"Don't let the kettle call the pot Blackie! The most disgusting thing
ever created is a smoker of cigarettes!"

"Yah!" growled Danny, taking out a cigarette. "Lend me a match, old
man."

And Browning lent him a match. Bink was rubbing earnestly at the stung
spot.

"I'll never see honey again without thinking of this."

"Which honey do you mean?" asked Danny. "I heard you calling a
chambermaid Honey the other evening. You must have thought her sweet!"

"And I heard one of them calling you a fool the other evening. She must
have thought you an idiot."

"Thomebody get me a cab!" begged Veazie, rubbing his stings and ruefully
regarding himself. "Thay, fello