Good night, Wampus.

Where's the Major ?" Wampus chuckled.
"In hotel.

Sir, do the Major swear sometime ?" Uncle John crept under the tent.
"If he does," he responded, "he's swearing this blessed minute.
Anyhow, I'll guarantee he's not asleep." Wampus again mounted to his perch.
"No use my try to sleep 'til Major he come," he muttered, and settled himself to wait.
It was not long.
Presently some one approached on a run, and a broad grin overspread the chauffeur's features.

The Major had not delayed his escape long enough to don his trousers even; he had grabbed his belongings in both arms and fled in his blue and white striped undergarments.
Wampus leaped down and lifted the flap of the tent.

The Major paused long enough in the moonlight to stare at the chauffeur and say sternly: "If you utter one syllable, you rascal, I'll punch your head!" Wampus was discreet.