a forgiving disposition, but he also possessed a melancholy
wisdom. In the company of either Penrod or Sam, alone, affection often
caused him to linger, albeit with a little pessimism, but, when he saw
them together, he invariably withdrew in as unobtrusive a manner as
haste would allow.

"What you doin'?" Sam asked.

"Nothin'. What you?"

"I'll show you if you'll come over to our house," said Sam, who was
wearing an important and secretive expression.

"What for?" Penrod showed little interest.

"Well, I said I'd show you if you came on over, didn't I?"

"But you haven't got anything I haven't got," said Penrod indifferently.
"I know everything that's in your yard and in your stable, and there
isn't a thing----"

"I didn't say it was in the yard or in the stable, did I?"

"Well, there ain't anything in your house," returned Penrod frankly,
"that I'd walk two feet to look at--not a thing!"

"Oh, no!" Sam assumed mockery. "Oh, no, you wouldn't! You know what it
is, don't you? Yes, you do!"

Penrod's curiosity stirred somewhat.

"Well, all right," he said, "I got nothin' to do. I just as soon go.
What is it?"

"You wait and see," said Sam, as they climbed the fence. "I bet _your_
ole eyes'll open pretty far in about a minute or so!"

"I bet they don't. It takes a good deal to get me excited, unless it's
sumpthing mighty----"

"You'll see!" Sam promised.

He opened an alley gate and stepped into his own yard in a manner
signaling caution--though the exploit, thus far, certainly required
none--and Penrod began to be impressed and hopeful. They entered the
house, silently, encountering no one, and Sam led the way upstairs,
tiptoeing, implying unusual and increasing peril. Turning, in the upper
hall, they went into Sam's father's bedroom, and Sam closed the door
with a caution so genuine that already Penrod's eyes began to fulfill
his host's prediction. Adventures in another boy's house are trying to
the nerves; and another boy's father's bedroom, when invaded, has a
violated sanctity that is almost appalling. Penrod felt that something
was about to happen--something much more important than he had
anticipated.

Sam tiptoed across the room to a chest of drawers, and, kneeling,
carefully pulled out the lowest drawer until the surface of its
contents--Mr. Williams' winter underwear--lay exposed. Then he fumbled
beneath the garments and drew forth a large object, displaying it
triumphantly to the satisfacto