Chapter IX · (continued 2)

Horrors! The pot would not budge. It was stuck on his head. Pull as he might he could not get it off. He sat down in the corner to plan a campaign of action, and consoled himself with licking the dripping bean treacle from his nose end. That got tiresome after a while, so Tommy sought his mother.

Mrs. Devine scolded over the lost beans at first, and then tried to remove the pot, but she, too, was unsuccessful. Then she became alarmed. In desperation she started for the doctor’s with the pot still on Tommy’s head, the pans jangling around his neck, and the bean juice running down his back.

Passengers in the street car dropped their papers in amazement, for they did not know that Tommy was a crusader, while Mrs. Devine looked out of the window and tried to make it appear that crusading was an every day affair.

But Tommy’s tears and wails attracted the attention of an old man. He stopped the car and called the motorman, who came with his controller handle in his hand.

“Crack the blamed thing off,” ordered the old man.

The motorman cracked, and off fell the jar. Tommy set up a whoop of joy, and Mrs. Devine hurried home to give the erstwhile crusader a bath—and a spanking.