The
next instant, streaming and inconceivably gaunt, the ravening
Gipsy appeared with a final bound upon Sam's shoulder. It was not
in Gipsy's character to be drawn up peaceably; he had ascended
the trousers and Sam's arm without assistance and in his own way.
Simultaneously--for this was a notable case of everything
happening at once--there was a muffled, soggy splash, and the
unfortunate Herman, smit with prophecy in his seclusion, uttered
a dismal yell. Penrod laid hands upon Gipsy, and, after a
struggle suggestive of sailors landing a man-eating shark,
succeeded in getting him into the box, and sat upon the lid
thereof.
Sam had leaped to his feet, empty handed and vociferous.
"Ow ow, OUCH!" he shouted, as he rubbed his suffering arm and
shoulder. Then, exasperated by Herman's lamentations, he called
angrily: "Oh, what _I_ care for your ole britches? I guess if
you'd 'a' had a cat climb up YOU, you'd 'a' dropped 'em a hunderd
times over!"
However, upon excruciating entreaty, he consented to explore the
surface of the water with a clothes-prop, but reported that the
luckless trousers had disappeared in the depths, Herman having
forgotten to remove some "fishin' sinkers" from his pockets
before making the fated loan.
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