Duke, hastening to place himself upon the stone slab, raged at his enemy in safety; and presently the indomitable Gipsy could be heard from the darkness below, turning on the bass of his siren, threatening the water that enveloped him, returning Duke's profanity with interest, and cursing the general universe.
"You hush!" Penrod stormed, rushing at Duke. "You go 'way from here! You DUKE!"
And Duke, after prostrating himself, decided that it would be a relief to obey and to consider his responsibilities in this matter at an end. He withdrew beyond a corner of the house, thinking deeply.
"Why'n't you let him bark at the ole cat?" Sam Williams inquired, sympathizing with the oppressed. "I guess you'd want to bark if a cat had been treatin' you the way this one did Duke."
"Well, we got to get this cat out o' here, haven't we?" Penrod demanded crossly.
"What fer?" Herman asked. "Mighty mean cat! If it was me, I let 'at ole cat drownd."
"My goodness," Penrod cried. "What you want to let it drown for?
Anyways, we got to use this water in our house, haven't we? You don't s'pose people like to use water that's got a cat drowned in it, do you? It gets pumped up into the tank in the attic and goes all over the house, and I bet you wouldn't want to see your father and mother usin' water a cat was drowned in. I guess I don't want my father and moth--"
"Well, how CAN we get it out?" Sam asked, cutting short this virtuous oration. "It's swimmin' around down there," he continued, peering into the cistern, "and kind of roaring, and it must of dropped its fishbone, 'cause it's spittin' just awful. I guess maybe it's mad 'cause it fell in there."
"I don't know how it's goin' to be got out," said Penrod; "but I know it's GOT to be got out, and that's all there is to it! I'm not goin' to have my father and mother--"
"Well, once," said Sam, "once when a kitten fell down OUR cistern, Papa took a pair of his trousers, and he held 'em by the end of one leg, and let 'em hang down through the hole till the end of the other leg was in the water, and the kitten went and clawed hold of it, and he pulled it right up, easy as anything.
Well, that's the way to do now, 'cause if a kitten could keep hold of a pair of trousers, I guess this ole cat could. It's the biggest cat _I_ ever saw! All you got to do is to go and ast your mother for a pair of your father's trousers, and we'll have this ole cat out o' there in no time."
Penrod glanced toward the house perplexedly.
"She ain't home, and I'd be afraid to--"
"Well, take your own, then," Sam suggested briskly.
"You take 'em off in the stable, and wait in there, and I and Herman'll get the cat out."
Penrod had no enthusiasm for this plan; but he affected to consider it.
"Well, I don't know 'bout that," he said, and then, after gazing attentively into the cistern and making some eye measurements of his knickerbockers, he shook his head. "They'd be too short. They wouldn't be NEAR long enough!"
"Then neither would mine," said Sam promptly.
"Herman's would," said Penrod.
"No, suh!" Herman had recently been promoted to long trousers, and he expressed a strong disinclination to fall in with Penrod's idea. "My Mammy sit up late nights sewin' on 'ese britches fer me, makin' 'em outen of a pair o' pappy's, an' they mighty good britches. Ain' goin' have no wet cat climbin' up 'em! No, suh!"
Both boys began to walk toward him argumentatively, while he moved slowly backward, shaking his head and denying them.
"I don't keer how much you talk!" he said. "Mammy gave my OLE britches to Verman, an' 'ese here ones on'y britches I got now, an' I'm go' to keep 'em on me--not take 'em off an' let ole wet cat splosh all over 'em. My Mammy, she sewed 'em fer ME, I reckon--d'in' sew 'em fer no cat!"
"Oh, PLEASE, come on, Herman!" Penrod begged pathetically. "You don't want to see the poor cat drown, do you?"
"Mighty mean cat!" Herman said. "Bet' let 'at ole pussy-cat 'lone whur it is."
"Why, it'll only take a minute," Sam urged. "You just wait inside the stable and you'll have 'em back on again before you could say 'Jack Robinson.'"
"I ain' got no use to say no Jack Robason," said Herman. "An' I ain' go' to han' over my britches fer NO cat!"
"Listen here, Herman," Penrod began pleadingly. "You can watch us every minute through the crack in the stable door, can't you? We ain't goin' to HURT 'em any, are we? You can see everything we do, can't you? Look at here, Herman: you know that little saw you said you wished it was yours, in the carpenter shop? Well, honest, if you'll just let us take your trousers till we get this poor ole cat out the cistern, I'll give you that little saw."
Herman was shaken; he yearned for the little saw.
"You gimme her to keep?" he asked cautiously. "You gimme her befo' I han' over my britches?"
"You'll see!" Penrod ran into the stable, came back with the little saw, and placed it in Herman's hand. Herman could resist no longer, and two minutes later he stood in the necessary negligee within the shelter of the stable door, and watched, through the crack, the lowering of the surrendered garment into the cistern. His gaze was anxious, and surely nothing could have been more natural, since the removal had exposed Herman's brown legs, and, although the weather was far from inclement, November is never quite the month for people to be out of doors entirely without leg-covering. Therefore, he marked with impatience that Sam and Penrod, after lowering the trousers partway to the water, had withdrawn them and fallen into an argument.
"Name o' goo'ness!" Herman shouted. "I ain' got no time fer you all do so much talkin'. If you go' git 'at cat out, why'n't you GIT him?"
"Wait just a minute," Penrod called, and he came running to the stable, seized upon a large wooden box, which the carpenters had fitted with a lid and leather hinges, and returned with it cumbersomely to the cistern. "There!" he said. "That'll do to put it in. It won't get out o' that, I bet you."
