THE UNEXPECTED.

Welcome Perkins was as full of vagaries as a moving-picture show is full of trouble. Although he proudly referred to himself as "Eagle-eye," yet his sight was none too good, even when he had on his spectacles.

Matt and Susie, standing in the background, laughed as half a dozen puffing boys in sleeveless white shirts, running-pants and spiked shoes came abreast of the gate and straggled on toward the bridge. When the last one had flickered out of sight, Welcome muttered under his breath, sat upon the ground and began tinkering with the broken strap of his wooden leg.

"All-fired queer," said he, "how my mind's allers a-huntin' trouble that-away. 'Course if I'd a-had them spectacles on my nose I might have seen that them was runners from the high school, but I only ketched the flash o' them red letters on their white shirts, an' I jest up an' thinks o' Injuns right off. It's the ole sperrit b'ilin' around inside me, I reckon, an' I'm afeared it'll make me do somethin' yet that I'll be sorry for. I used to be a powerful man in a tussle."

Welcome pulled at the mended strap and got the wooden leg back in place; then he picked up the old weapon and Matt helped him to his feet.

"It must be awful," said Matt, with a sly look at Susie, "to have the disposition of a Royal Bengal tiger and forced to keep a muzzle on it all the time."

"Tur'ble," answered the old man with a gruesome shake of the head; "I can't begin to tell ye how tur'ble onhandy I find it oncet in a while," and with that he started off toward the back yard.

"Welcome is as jolly as a show," laughed Matt. "It's a mighty good thing that old pop-gun of his is harmless. If it wasn't for that he might make a mistake some time that would be anything but pleasant. It's a cinch he's an old false-alarm, but there's always a possibility that he'll explode by accident and do damage. Where did you say my pal Chub was?"

"In his laboratory," said Susie. "He sent Welcome to town after something, and I guess the old humbug has gone to the laboratory with it."

"What's Chub trying to invent now?" queried Matt, as he and Susie started around the house on the trail of Perkins.

"I think it's smokeless powder," replied Susie.

"Great hanky-pank!" gasped Matt. "Why, that's already been invented. Besides, Susie, Chub hadn't ought to be fooling around with stuff like that."

The back yard of the McReady home stretched down to the cottonwoods that fringed the bank of the canal. Here, in an old poultry-house, Mark, otherwise "Chub" McReady, did most of his experimenting.

A dozen feet from the "laboratory" was a tall pole rising some forty feet from the ground and overtopping the trees. At its lofty extremity was an arm with the tip of a lightning-rod swinging downward from its outer end.

"How's the wireless working, Susie?" asked Matt as they moved toward the canal.

"Mark got a spark from the Bluebell Mine last night," said Susie; "just one flash, that's all. After that something seemed to go wrong. That's generally the way with Mark's inventions, Matt. I wish he'd stop fooling away his time; but, even if his time isn't valuable, there's always the expense. Welcome encourages him, though, and furnishes most of the money. I wonder where Welcome gets it?"

"Welcome's a sly old possum in spite of his foolishness, and it's my opinion he's got a stake settled away somewhere. This wireless-telegraph experimenting is harmless enough, but I'm Dutch if I think it's the right thing for Chub to tamper with this smokeless-powder idea. Something might happen, and——"

Just then something did happen, something that was clearly not down on the program. There was a muffled roar from the laboratory, followed by a burst of smoke from the door and the open window. With a wild yell, Welcome Perkins rolled through the window, heels—or heel—over head. He was on fire in several places.

A chunky, red-haired boy came through the door as though he had been shot out of a cannon. This was Chub, and he was badly singed.

"Whoo!" yelled Chub, coming to a dazed halt and rubbing one hand across his eyes. "That was a corker, though. I guess something went crossways. Say, Perk! Hold up there, Perk!"

Welcome Perkins had scrambled erect and was stumping along for the canal like a human meteor. He was carrying his hat and seemed to think his life depended on getting where he was going in the shortest possible time.

Without waiting to explain matters to Matt and Susie, Chub darted after Welcome.

"Goodness' sakes," screamed Susie, "the laboratory is burning up!"

"Small loss if it does burn up," answered Matt, "but we'd better do what we can to put out the fire and keep sparks away from the house."

Matt ran swiftly into the kitchen of the adobe house, picked up a bucket of water and darted back toward the laboratory. There was a good deal of smoke, but not very much fire, and the single pail of water was enough to quench the flames. But the interior of the laboratory was completely wrecked.

"There'll be no conflagration, Susie," announced Matt, coming out of the place and joining the girl near the door. "Chub was a lucky boy to get out of that mess as well as he did. Let's hike for the canal and see what he and Welcome are doing."

"Mark might have killed himself," said Susie, half sobbing with the strain her nerves had undergone, "and he might have killed Welcome, too. He's got to stop this foolish experimenting. You tell him, Matt, won't you?"

"You can bet I'll do what I can, Susie," answered Matt; "I don't want Chub to blow himself up. If Welcome furnishes the money, though, I don't just see how we're going to keep Chub from furnishing the time for all this fool investigating. The thing to do is to find where Welcome keeps his grub-stake and take it away from him."

When Susie and Matt reached the canal there was a spirited dispute going on between Chub and Welcome. The latter, from his appearance, must have jumped into the canal and extinguished the flames that had fastened upon his clothes, for he was as wet as a drowned rat.

"Perk," Chub was shouting, "I told you to get alcohol, alcohol! What was it you brought back?"

"No sich of a thing!" whooped Welcome, jumping up and down in his excitement and raining water over everybody. "Sulfuric acid, that there's what ye said—an' that there's what I got."

"And there was me," snorted Chub, "trying to mix sulfuric acid with gunpowder. Say, Perk!"

"Wow! Talk to yerself, talk to anybody else, but don't ye talk to me. I've had plenty, I have. Look! Everythin' I got's sp'iled."

"Perk," counseled Chub, "you jump into the canal again and stay there."

"Jump in yerself—yah! I'm goin' out inter the hills an' hold up stages an' things jest like I useter do—an' it's you what's driv' me to it. Thar's somethin' for ye to think of when ever'body's huntin' me an' thar's a price on my head an' I ain't got no place to go. When that thar time comes, Chub McReady, jest remember it was you driv ole Welcome Perkins to his everlastin' doom!"

Then, with his head high in the air, the ex-pirate of the plains stumped off through the cottonwoods, jabbing wrathfully with his wooden pin at every step. Chub watched him a moment, then leaned against a tree and looked sheepishly at Susie and Matt.

"I guess I was too hard on Perk," remarked Chub, a slow grin working its way over his freckled face, "for I was as much to blame as he was. By rights, we both ought to jump in the canal and stay there. How's the fire?"

"Matt put it out, Chub," said Susie. "I'm going to tell dad about this when he gets back. You've got to stop this nonsense before you kill yourself or somebody else."

"All right, sis," answered Chub humbly, "I'll stop. If I could only get that wireless-telegraph line to workin' between here and the Bluebell I'd have somethin' to keep me busy. Say, Matt, if you've got time I'd like to have you tell me what's the matter with that wireless apparatus. Got a spark from the Bluebell last night, but that's all it amounted to. You're no inventor, but you're always pretty handy in telling me where I make a miscue in my machines. Go up to the house, sis," Chub added to Susie, "and keep that old fire-eater from going out into the hills and slaughtering somebody. I don't think he'd slip out at all, and I know he wouldn't massacre a horned toad, but he likes us to believe he's just naturally a bad man trying to reform, and it's just as well to keep an eye on him."

Before Susie left she cast a significant look at Matt.

"Let's go up the canal a ways, Chub," said Matt, when he and his chum were alone, "where we can make ourselves comfortable and have a little quiet confab."

"You've got more'n your hat on your mind, Matt," returned Chub, "I can tell that by the look of you; but if it's this business of mine that's put you in a funk——"

"It's not that altogether, Chub," interrupted Matt. "You see, I've got to leave Phoenix, and I want to talk with you about it."

Chub was astounded, and stood staring at Matt with jaws agape. His hair and eyebrows were singed, there was a black smudge on his face, and his clothes were more or less demoralized. In his bewilderment he made a picture that brought a hearty laugh to Matt's lips.

"Come on, Chub, what's struck you in a heap?" said Matt, catching his arm and pulling him off along the canal-bank. "You act as though I'd handed you a jolt below the belt."

"That's just the size of it, Matt," returned Chub. "Say, if you leave Phoenix you've got to take Reddy McReady along with you—or you don't go. That's flat. Are you listening to my spiel, pal?"