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"Honest, you make me sick!" Penrod's expression became one of despair. "Well, who IS he?" he cried. "'Who IS he?" mocked the other, with a scorn that withered. "'Who IS he? ME!" "Oh!" Penrod was humiliated but relieved: he felt that he had proved himself criminally ignorant, yet a peril seemed to have passed. "Rupe Collins is your name, then, I guess. I kind of thought it was, all the time."
Sam had a premonition that something even more painful than Penrod's knuckle was going to be inflicted upon him. "THAT don' hurt," said Penrod, pushing him away. "Yes, it does, too!" Sam rubbed his temple. "Puh! It didn't hurt me, did it, Rupie? Come on in, Rupe: show this baby where he's got a wart on his finger." "You showed me that trick," Sam objected. "You already did that to me.
"But how, in the name of all that is wonderful, came you to discover the danger of the pettish Baronet and his far more deserving daughter?" "I saw them from the verge of the precipice." "From the verge! umph And what possessed you dumosa pendere procul de rupe? though dumosa is not the appropriate epithet what the deil, man, tempted ye to the verge of the craig?"
"Yes, sonny, Rupe Collins is my name, and you better look out what you say when he's around or you'll get in big trouble! Penrod was cowed but fascinated: he felt that there was something dangerous and dashing about this newcomer. "Yes," he said, feebly, drawing back. "My name's Penrod Schofield." "Then I reckon your father and mother ain't got good sense," said Mr.
Sam, maintaining his position near the other door, Penrod went to him and caught him round the neck. "Watch me, Rupie!" Penrod called, and performed upon Sam the knuckle operation which he had himself just undergone, Sam submitting mechanically, his eyes fixed with increasing uneasiness upon Rupe Collins.
Everything looks the same hereabouts. I seem to have been absent but a few days. How strange it is! Signe, there you see Willowby, on that rise; quite a town yet. How's Dry Bench, James?" "Much the same, Rupe. No improvements since you left." "And the reservoir?" "As you left it, though it needs repairing badly."
"'Rupe Collins is the principal at your school, I guess!" He laughed harshly again, then suddenly showed truculence. "Say, 'bo, whyn't you learn enough to go in the house when it rains? What's the matter of you, anyhow?" "Well," urged Penrod timidly, "nobody ever TOLD me who Rupe Collins is: I got a RIGHT to think he's the principal, haven't I?" The fat-faced boy shook his head disgustedly.
Both darkies jumped full upon him instantly, and the three rolled and twisted upon the stable-floor, unloosing upon the air sincere maledictions closely connected with complaints of cruel and unusual treatment; while certain expressions of feeling presently emanating from Herman and Verman indicated that Rupe Collins, in this extremity, was proving himself not too slavishly addicted to fighting by rule.
He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed it. A moment later he stood in the courtyard beside Rupert's horse, where the others were waiting. "Heavens!" said Hugh to Philip; "what's happened to Rupe?" "Yes," echoed Vernon, "who's that in old Rupe's clothes?" "Shut up!" Philip hissed, fixing them with a meaning glance. "Say another word, and I'll flay you!
"Say, ain't you got ANY sense?" "What?" "Say, wouldn't you be just as happy if you had SOME sense?" "Ye-es." Penrod's answer, like the look he lifted to the impressive stranger, was meek and placative. "Rupe Collins is the principal at your school, guess." The other yelled with jeering laughter, and mocked Penrod's manner and voice.
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