For the first time in years Mr. Budlong paid Mrs. Budlong a sincere homage: 

“You’re a genius.  It takes a woman to squirm out of a difficulty after all.”

He was so excited he actually kissed her—­and he hadn’t finished his evening paper at that!

This overjoyed her so far that she fairly glowed.

“Oh, I’m so glad you approve, Ulie dear.  And you’ll help me, won’t you?”

“You bet I will, ducky dove.”

“That’s glorious.  Now which will you pretend to have, yellow fever or smallpox or—­”

“Which will I pretend to have?  Do you mean to say that you expect me to go bed with a fatal disease?”

“It doesn’t have to be fatal, my love.  Just so long as it’s contagious, you know.”

“Well, of all th—­what’s to happen to my business?”

“Why, you can call it a vacation.  And you can pretend to get well after Christmas; or you can have the doctor say it wasn’t yellow fever after all.”

“But I stay in bed for several days, eh?”

“Oh, you can move round all you want, just so ’s’t you don’t go outdoors, and keep away from the windows.”

Mr. Budlong’s admiration was reverting to its normal state.  He growled: 

“You women would be an awful joke, if you were only a little funnier.  If you’re so keen on this quarantine business you quarantine yourself.  You can have yellow fever, or scarlet, or green or any color you like—­robin’s egg blue fever for all I care.”

“But, my darling, I can’t be having those things!  You know I don’t believe in them this year, since I became a—­oh, it wouldn’t do at all for Me.  But You could have it because You believe in diseases.”

“You bet I do, and I believe you’ve got softening of the brain.”  He paced the floor in an effort to keep up with his temper.  Eventually he stopped short.  He remembered that his son had failed to help the family out in its distress.  He said: 

“Let Ulie have something.”

XI

GANG AGLEY AGAIN

Mrs. Budlong felt a certain superstitious uneasiness, but was finally won over, and Ulie was unanimously elected the scapegoat—­or in more modern form, the goat.

Ulie was in bed at the time sleeping like an innocent cherub and smiling in his sleep.  He was dreaming of a great invention:  he would set a figure-4 trap near his fireplace and snare Santa Claus by the foot.  Then from a safe ambush under the bed, he would assail the old gentleman with his nigger-shooter till he laid him low, whereupon he could rifle the entire pack at his leisure, and select what he wanted.  Ulie had not been attending Sabbath School in vain.  The lesson of the week concerned David and Goliath.

Prom such dreams as these Ulie woke the next morning to be told that he need not leave his bed.  He had scarlet fever and must keep close under his cover.