Oh, it was great to watch Harry—the way he acted. He just said, “A soldier, eh? Sit down, we were just going to have a bite to eat. I was in the big scrap, myself.” That’s what he always called it—the big scrap. He didn’t pay any attention to Brent Gaylong, and Brent just stood there staring.

Pretty soon Brent said, “Your name isn’t Chandler, is it?”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” Jib Jab said. “Who are you?”

He didn’t admit he was Chandler right away and Harry Donnelle said, kind of careless sort of, “If you’re the missing Chandler you might as well so say. We’re all tramps and wanderers here. All broke, too.”

So pretty Soon Jib Jab, is he human? admitted that he was Horace E. Chandler, and Harry Donnelle said it was mighty lucky we had decided to stay over night in that neighborhood. He said he had always thought that the world was about as big as a cocoanut, but now he knew it was the size of a green pea. He said the trouble with it was there wasn’t enough elbow room, and scouts couldn’t get away into the woods and be alone, because on account of the crowds—crowds of missing people. Oh, he was great and, believe me, we liked that fellow.

None of those Church Mice even knew that Horace E. Chandler was Jib Jab who was in the circus. On the quiet, Jib told us that Mr. Costello didn’t mind his leaving like that, because what-is-its were easy to get, on account of so many of them being out of work—I mean people. But Jib said, Mr. Costello told him he was the best what-is-it he ever had, and he would give him a good recommendation, if he wanted it.

So that’s the end of Jib Jab is he human? And, gee, you’ll have to admit he was human, all right. He said he wouldn’t go home to Greendale unless the Church Mice went with him and stayed for a few days on his father’s farm. Harry Donnelle stood up for him and said that was right. I bet he knew about it all the time. He said that he wouldn’t trust Chandler to go home alone.

“Now you’ve got him, hang onto him,” that’s what he said to Brent. “Safety first, don’t take any chances. Go up there and get your hundred. These discharged soldiers are a bad lot. See what kind of a farm he lives on, and if it’s any good we’ll hike up there next summer and strip the apple trees. Got any good russets up there, Horace?”

So that’s the way they fixed it, and the next morning Horace Chandler and the Church Mice started off on their journey to Greendale. Brent Gaylong said he was going to ’phone home from Kingston, so that their people would know. Anyway, I guess their mothers and fathers wouldn’t worry much, because Brent was the kind of a fellow they could trust, that was one sure thing.

Harry told Horace Chandler to start off with them just as if they were going to hike all the way, and then when they got good and tired, to buy tickets on the railroad. Do you know what I think? I think Harry had some money and that he gave it to Horace so he could do that. That’s what I kind of think. It would be just like him anyway.

One thing, you’re going to meet all those fellows again, but not in this story. Because after a while we went up to that farm in Greendale and camped there, and met old Major Chandler and Mr. Wade and Horace, and had a lot of fun, you can bet. It’s a whole story all by itself. They have dandy russet apples up there, and, oh boy, can’t Horace’s sister Betty make apple dumplings. I ate four one night. Hunt Manners ate six, but anyway he started before I did.