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Updated: July 28, 2025
Penrod stuck the muzzle of the pistol into the waistband of his knickerbockers at the left side and, buttoning his jacket, sustained the weapon in concealment by pressure of his elbow. "So you think I haven't got any; you think I'm just a man comin' along, and so you " Sam advanced. "Well, you've had your turn," he said. "Now, it's mine. I'm goin' to show you how I " "WATCH me, can't you?"
"SHAME, Penrod Schofield!" said both the aunts Rennsdale publicly, and Penrod, wholly innocent, became scarlet with indignant mortification. Carlie Chitten himself, however, marked the true offenders.
Neither of them had the slightest idea how to get it there; but such details as that were beyond the horizon; they occupied themselves with the question of what their advertisement ought to "say". Finding that they differed irreconcilably, Penrod went to his cache in the sawdust-box and brought two pencils and a supply of paper.
He was endeavouring to ascend a maple tree about twelve feet from the window. Embracing the trunk with arms and legs, he had managed to squirm to a point above the heads of Penrod and Herman, who stood close by, watching him earnestly Penrod being obviously in charge of the performance.
How sacred the sweet little baby brother, whose privilege it was to cling to that small hand, delicately powdered with freckles. "Hello, Marjorie," said Penrod, affecting carelessness. "Hello!" said Marjorie, with unexpected cordiality. She bent over her baby brother with motherly affectations. "Say 'howdy' to the gentymuns, Mitchy-Mitch," she urged sweetly, turning him to face Penrod.
As he wrote, his burden had grown lighter; thoughts of Mrs. Wilson, the wounded detective, and the silken moustached mule-driver, he had felt mysteriously relieved concerning the Child Sir Lancelot. Altogether he looked a better and a brighter boy. "Pen-ROD!" The rapt look faded slowly. He sighed, but moved not. "Penrod!
We'll pretend there isn't any cage there, and soon as I get him fortygraphed, I'll holler, 'Shoot, men! Then you must shoot, Sam and Herman, you and Verman must hammer on the cage with your spears, and holler: 'Hoo! Hoo! and pretend you're spearin' him." "Well, we aw ready!" said Herman. "Hoo! Hoo!" "Wait a minute," Penrod interposed, frowningly surveying the cage.
The cage moved from the tottering chair beneath it. It passed through the yawning hay-door and fell resoundingly to the alley below, where as Penrod and Sam, with cries of dismay, rushed to the door and looked down it burst asunder and disgorged a large, bruised and chastened cat. Gipsy paused and bent one strange look upon the broken box.
For a time he stared without attraction; the weather-worn colours conveying no meaning to comprehension at a huge canvas poster depicting the chief his torpid eye. Then, little by little, the poster became more vivid to his consciousness. There was a greenish-tinted person in the tent, it seemed, who thrived upon a reptilian diet. Suddenly, Penrod decided that it was time to go home.
This voice belonged to one Penrod Schofield. Penrod and Marjorie had descended by another stairway, and he now considered it wiser to pass to the rear of the little party at the foot of the stairs.
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