As he stood watching Mollie tremble and plunge whenever the clippers touched a ticklish spot, he became conscious of a movement at the door of the barn, and glancing around he beheld Sport. Sube was astonished, for he had supposed that the dog was safe at home. But Sport had been following him all the afternoon; never very far behind, and for obvious reasons never very conspicuous.
When Sport perceived that his presence had been detected he tried to make the best of a bad situation. He pretended that their meeting was the merest sort of coincidence; that he had come there strictly on business of his own, but was none the less glad to see his master. However, human like, Sube misunderstood all this; and pointing an automatic finger at the dog, muttered:
Sport fled. And as he went scurrying down the alley he was kept busy dodging several sticks, a tin can, and one or two old shoes.
While Sube was disposing of his insubordinate follower Fretful Mollie had obtained momentary control over her tingling nerves and become perfectly quiet. But as he returned to her side she gave a tremendous lunge and struck out savagely with both hind feet, scattering the tonsorial artists right and left.
As the clipper-man leaped to a place of safety, his clippers still in his hand, he grabbed Sube roughly by the coat-collar.
"I caught y'u that time, y'u little rascal!" he cried angrily.
Sube squirmed uncomfortably. "What'd I do?" he muttered. "I ain't done a _thing_!"
The clipper-man snatched off Sube's cap and gave it a throw as he charged, "Y'u slung some'pm at that mare. I seen y'u do it myself."
Seeing that the crime was neatly fastened on Sube, Dick Bissell, who had been keeping discreetly close to the door, now drew nearer. If anybody was to be punished for his misdeeds he wanted to be in the front row. He anticipated that Sube would receive a sound cuffing and perhaps a kick or two; but he was as much surprised as Sube at the form his punishment took. For without the slightest warning the clipper-man mowed a clean swath from Sube's brow to his crown, and giving him a vigorous shove towards the open door, admonished him to get out and stay out under pain of having his eyebrows cut off.
As Sube recovered his balance he paused, and passed a bewildered hand over his head. He resembled nothing quite so much as a youth grown prematurely bald. And at the risk of losing his eyebrows he turned and faced his assailant.