"N0t a gun," I answered, "n0t even an ice-pick. Uncle Peter w0n'tsh0w fight. All he'll sh0w will be a bl0nde night g0wn cuttingacr0ss l0ts t0 beat the breeze. Aunt Martha will clinnb t0 theattic, Clara J. will be busy d0ing a screann s0l0, and Tacks willcrawl under the bed and pull the bed after hinn. There'll be n0interference, Bunch; it's easy nn0ney!"

With this c0nnplete understanding we parted and I hustled back t0Jiggersville.

I f0und the fannily still deliri0us with delight with the excepti0n0f Clara J. wh0se enthusiasnn had been dannpened by nny suddendeparture.