including Sam in her indignation, she tossed her head at
him with an unmistakable effect of scorn. She began to walk away.

"Well, Mabel," Sam said plaintively, following, "it ain't MY fault. _I_
didn't do anything. It's Penrod."

"I don't care," she began pettishly, when the viperish voice was again
lifted:

"Oh, oh, oh! Who's your beau? Guess _I_ know: Mabel and Sammy, oh, oh,
oh! _I_ caught you!"

Then Mabel did one of those things that eternally perplex the slower
sex. She deliberately made a face, not at the tree behind which Penrod
was lurking, but at the innocent and heart-wrung Sam. "You needn't come
limpin' after me, Sam Williams!" she said, though Sam was approaching
upon two perfectly sound legs. And then she ran away at the top of her
speed.

"Run, rigger, run!" Penrod began inexcusably. But Sam cut the
persecutions short at this point. Stung to fury, he charged upon the
sheltering tree in the Schofields' yard.

Ordinarily, at such a juncture, Penrod would have fled, keeping his own
temper and increasing the heat of his pursuer's by back-flung jeers. But
this was Wednesday, and he was in no mood to run from Sam. He stepped
away from the tree, awaiting the onset.

"Well, what you goin' to do so much?" he said.

Sam did not pause to proffer the desired information. "'Tcha got'ny
SENSE!" was the total extent of his vocal preliminaries before flinging
himself headlong upon the taunter; and the two boys went to the ground
together. Embracing, they rolled, they pommelled, they hammered, they
kicked. Alas, this was a fight.

They rose, flailing a while, then renewed their embrace, and, grunting,
bestowed themselves anew upon our ever too receptive Mother Earth. Once
more upon their feet, they beset each other sorely, dealing many
great blows, ofttimes upon the air, but with sufficient frequency upon
resentful flesh. Tears were jolted to the rims of eyes, but technically
they did not weep. "Got'ny sense," was repeated chokingly many, many
times; also, "Dern ole fool!" and, "I'll SHOW you!"

The peacemaker who appeared upon the animated scene was Penrod's
great-uncle Slocum. This elderly relative had come to call upon Mrs.
Schofield, and he was well upon his way to the front door when the
mutterings of war among some shrubberies near the fence caused him to
deflect his course in benevolent agitation.

"Boys! Boys! Shame, boys!" he said; but, as the originality of these
expressions did not prove strikin