"
"Well, this is the way we'll do," Penrod said authoritatively:
"I'll let you hold the trousers, Sam. You lay down and keep hold
of one leg, and let the other one hang down till its end is in
the water. Then you kind of swish it around till it's somewheres
where the cat can get hold of it, and soon as he does, you pull
it up, and be mighty careful so's it don't fall off. Then I'll
grab it and stick it in the box and slam the lid down."
Rather pleased to be assigned to the trousers, Sam accordingly
extended himself at full length upon the slab and proceeded to
carry out Penrod's instructions. Meanwhile, Penrod, peering from
above, inquired anxiously for information concerning this work of
rescue.
"Can you see it, Sam? Why don't it grab hold? What's it doin'
now, Sam?"
"It's spittin' at Herman's trousers," said Sam. "My gracious, but
it's a fierce cat! If it's mad all the time like this, you better
not ever try to pet it much. Now it's kind o' sniffin' at the
trousers. It acks to me as if it was goin' to ketch hold. Yes,
it's stuck one claw in 'em--OW!"
Sam uttered a blood-curdling shriek and jerked convulsively.
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