"He means they can't nobody play on this here court till his work is done," interpreted Gizzard. "Well, you don't catch me doin' any of his work!" cried Stucky. "I got enough of my own!" "Me neither--" began Biscuit, when Gizzard interrupted. "Listen here!" he shouted. "Quit your beefin' and listen here a minute! I got a scheme!" "If it's a scheme for us to do his work you needn't tell it!" returned Biscuit. "I've done more work this mornin' than he does in a week--" But Gizzard brushed him ungently aside. "Dry up! Dry up! Cut out the noise and listen a minute! Three people can't play any decent tennis! We gotta have _four_ if we want to play the game! It wouldn't take us five minutes to clean up his work--and it's his court, anyway!" Biscuit yielded ungraciously. He grumbled all the way to the front lawn, and then suddenly became embued with enthusiasm, and took upon himself the honor of informing Sube that they were at his service. Sube was apparently not expecting anything of the sort. "Do you fellows mean that you're go'n' to help me with my work?" he asked incredulously. "Sure thing!" cried Biscuit cheerfully. "You don't s'pose we want to be playin' tennis out there while you're workin', do you? And besides, the court belongs to you!" "Say!--You're good scouts, all right!" Sube exclaimed with unguarded admiration. "What-all you got t'do?" inquired Gizzard. "Well, you give this ol' mower a few shoves, Giz, and I'll show the other fellers what to do," responded Sube genially. Gizzard seized the handles of the lawn-mower and assiduously applied himself to the task of depilating the lawn, while Stucky retired to the garden and began on hands and knees to thin the blushing beets to five inches, putting the thinnings into a basket for greens. Biscuit followed Sube about whining repeatedly: "What am _I_ go'n'ta do? Sube, what am _I_ go'n'ta do?" "I don't know as you _can_ do the only job that's left," Sube taunted with a triumphant gleam at the immaculate knickerbockers. "It's pretty pa'tic'lar work." "I'll bet y'u I can do it! What is it?" cried the unsuspecting Biscuit. "Show it to me! I'll eat it alive!" "Did you ever sprout any potatoes?" inquired Sube as he led the way to the cellar. "No; but I'll bet y'u I can do it!" "Well, we'll see about that," was Sube's dubious-sounding answer as he guided Biscuit towards the potato bin. "Gee, but it's dark in here," whined Biscuit. Sube stopped short. "Look here!" he warned. "If it's too dark for you down here in this cool cellar, you go on outdoors, and I'll do these p'tates myself--or let one of the other fellers do 'em." "Oh, no!" Biscuit hastened to assure him. "It ain't dark at all any more. It jus' seemed so at first. I can see _fine_ now." "Well, all right then," muttered Sube. "But if you're goin' to back out, I want to know it 'fore you begin." "No, sir! I ain't go'n'ta back out," Biscuit asserted resolutely.