Part 26 (1/2)

”d.i.c.k, you cut him up,” answered Hans, rather faintly.

d.i.c.k took the carving knife and set to work. The knife went into the ”cake” with ease, but there it stuck.

”What's the matter, d.i.c.k?” asked Sam.

”I don't know-the knife is stuck.”

”Better let me cut it.”

”Go ahead and try your luck, Sam.”

The youngest Rover came around and took hold of the knife. He tried to draw the blade free but merely succeeded in raising the ”cake” into the air.

”h.e.l.lo, it sticketh closer than a brother!” exclaimed Tom. ”Hans, did you put a porous plaster in that cake?”

”Not much I tidn't!” snapped the German lad. ”Here, you gif me dot cake!

I cut him ub for you, so quick like neffer vas!”

Very valiantly Hans took the ”cake” and the knife and set to work. He had no more success than had d.i.c.k and Sam. Finally, in a rage, he lifted knife and ”cake” on high and brought them down on a stone with a bang.

The ”cake” bounced back like a rubber ball and all but struck him in the face.

”h.e.l.lo, Hans has been manufacturing a football!” cried Tom.

”Vot's der madder mit dot ennahow!” roared the German youth. ”I make him chust like mine mudder make him in der old country.”

”Hans, did you make the coffee cake with glue?” asked d.i.c.k.

”I ton't know how I make him!” groaned poor Hans. ”I got me all mixed up, mit eferybody around me! Say, can't you vos got dot knife owid somehow?”

he questioned anxiously.

”I'll try a new way,” said d.i.c.k, and placed the ”cake” under his feet.

Then he drew on the knife, and it came up between his feet with a sucking sound.

”I guess you can sell that coffee cake for rubber,” said Sam.

”Don't you want a slice, Sam?” asked Tom.

”Not today, thank you.”

”I d.i.n.k I drow him into der vater!” cried Hans, and picked up the glue-like ma.s.s. Then he ran down to the lake front and balanced it on one of his hands. He gave a throw, but the ”cake” did not land in the water as he had intended. Instead it remained stuck to his fingers.

”Can't get rid of it so easily!” cried d.i.c.k. ”Be careful, Hans, or that cake will be the death of you!”

”Du meine zeit!” groaned the German youth, and then he pulled at the ma.s.s until he had it free from his fingers. Then he gave it a kick with his foot, and it went into the lake with a splash.

And that was the first and last time Hans tried to make German coffee cake.