Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 57

"Do so, do so," urged Zenas, in relief. "That is a good idea."

"Very well. I hope you may be pleased; and do not forget that I am willing and ready to dispose of my harem at a most reasonable price. By Jove! I'll almost give the whole outfit away!"

Coddington and Stringer retired, having seen the professor take the seat of honor in the midst of the cushions.

The old man was rather nervous, but he endeavored to remain calm and dignified.

Finally a low burst of musical laughter came to his ears, causing him to brace up. A moment later, hand in hand, two persons entered the room and advanced swiftly, bowing low before the professor, their foreheads touching the tiling.

"Ah, these are the favorites!" murmured Zenas, his eyes shining. "Arise, my dears, and come here. Be seated beside me."

They needed no second invitation to sit beside the professor, however.

Cooing in a coy manner, they plumped themselves down amid the cushions on either hand.

"He nice!" said one.

"Him fine!" murmured the other.

Then both giggled.

"He! he!" laughed the professor nervously, as the one on his right leaned against his shoulder. "What's your name, my dear?"

"Fraud," was the answer.

"Fraud? Well, that's an odd name! How do you happen to have such a name as that?"

"Effendi, him give it. Effendi, him husband. Him call me Little Fraud."

"Ah, I see; sort of a pet name." Then he turned to the other one, on his right. "And what is your name, darling?" he asked.

"Fake."

"Hey? Fake?"

"Sure. Effendi, him call me Big Fake."

"Well, surely he has peculiar names for his wives. Do you love Effendi?"

"Oh, so, so. Him better no husband. Much tired now. Like change."

"Well, you're frank about it, to say the least. How many times have you changed husbands?"

"Sev'teen time."

"What's that? Great Scott! Seventeen times?"

"Maybe more."

"Christopher! You've had seventeen different husbands-or more? Goodness, but that's a record!"

At this juncture, Fake threw her arms round the professor.

"You be next one?" she asked. "Like you much. You be old Lobster."

"What's that? Old Lobster?"

"Pretty name," cooed Fraud, from the other side, cuddling on his shoulder. "We like old Lobster, Fake."

"You bet your back teeth!" elegantly retorted Fake. "We like him lot.

Pull his leg."

"Well, you're frank in proclaiming your intentions, at least!" gasped Zenas.

At this moment the strange music began again, and the dancing girls reappeared, posing and pirouetting, the tiny bells on their bare ankles tinkling in a lively manner.

Zenas tried to untangle himself from the twining arms of the two favorites, but they declined to be thrust aside.

"No! no!" they cried. "Keep so. Like it, old Lobster."

"Old Lobster!" grated Gunn. "Say, my dears, you'll please me if you call me something else. I don't like the name you have selected for me."

"No like it?" questioned Fake, in apparent surprise. "Pretty name."

"Sweet name," gurgled Fraud. "We like it."

"But I object! You'll have to call me something else. I won't stand for it."

"All right," said Fraud, in apparent disappointment.

Then she tried to get a strangle hold on Zenas, who was beginning to perspire and wish himself a thousand miles away.

"Well, you have a mighty queer notion about pretty names!" snapped the old man. "Don't choke me! Those dancing girls are laughing-I know they are! I can see them laughing behind their veils!"

But they clung to him more closely than ever, and all his squirming was useless.

"Where's the boss of this house?" he spluttered. "Be careful, both of you! I'm a respectable married man!"

"n.o.body ever think it," snickered Fraud.

"You be married lots more when you get us," observed Fake.

"Christopher! I should say so! I'd be too much married."

"We not all you have," said Fraud. "You get lots more like us."

"Only not so nice-not so pretty," declared Fake.

"Well, I'll have to think this thing over before I close the bargain.

I'm beginning to think that one wife is enough for any man-too much in some cases."