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REAPING THE WHIRLWIND
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ing how quickly he could put on suitable clothing to make his appearance on the street. As he worked he called for the little Scout and when the youngster appeared, he said: “Lock up quickly. Have the front door key ready for me. I have an urgent business call to the city and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Aw!” said the little Scout, in disgusted tones, “I came to stay all day! There was a lot I wanted to get done on my property.”

“Yes, I know,” said Jamie. “Maybe to-morrow. You better call the gang and play the rest of the day on the beach or run along home.”

He was out of the door, locking it behind him. Then he made a headlong plunge down the walk and down the street toward the car line.

The little Scout stood looking after him.

“‘Important business!’ Well, I’ll tell the world it’s important! The house is on fire, the dog’s bit the baby, Ma’s lost her vanity case, the Government ain’t survivin’, God’s dropped out of Heaven, and there ain’t a darned thing right in the whole world! Leap to it, Jamie! Fix it all up fine! Oh, boy!”

The little Scout walked around the house, climbed in the back window, punched up Jamie’s pillow, and lay down on the foot of his bed.

Jamie sprinted to the nearest street car and rode to the city, getting instructions on the way as to where Irolo and Seventeenth Streets might be, and when he landed some distance away, he took a taxi. Once seated within