Schofield musingly. "Of course you
and I and everybody who really knows the Bitts and Magsworth families
understand the perfect absurdity of it; but I suppose there are ever so
many who'll believe it, no matter what the Bittses and Magsworths say."

"Hundreds and hundreds!" said Mrs. Williams. "I'm afraid it will be a
great come-down for them."

"I'm afraid so," said Mrs. Schofield gently. "A very great one--yes, a
very, very great one."

"Well," observed Mrs. Williams, after a thoughtful pause, "there's only
one thing to be done, and I suppose it had better be done right away."

She glanced toward the two gentlemen.

"Certainly," Mr. Schofield agreed. "But where ARE they?"

"Have you looked in the stable?" asked his wife.

"I searched it. They've probably started for the far West."

"Did you look in the sawdust-box?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then that's where they are."

Thus, in the early twilight, the now historic stable was approached by
two fathers charged to do the only thing to be done. They entered the
storeroom.

"Penrod!" said Mr. Schofield.

"Sam!" said Mr. Williams.

Nothing disturbed the twilight hush.

But by means of a ladder, brought from the carriage-house, Mr. Schofield
mounted to the top of the sawdust-box. He looked within, and discerned
the dim outlines of three quiet figures, the third being that of a small
dog.

The two boys rose, upon command, descended the ladder after Mr.
Schofield, bringing Duke with them, and stood before the authors of
their being, who bent upon them sinister and threatening brows. With
hanging heads and despondent countenances, each still ornamented with a
moustache and an imperial, Penrod and Sam awaited sentence.

This is a boy's lot: anything he does, anything whatever, may afterward
turn out to have been a crime--he never knows.

And punishment and clemency are alike inexplicable.

Mr. Williams took his son by the ear.

"You march home!" he commanded.

Sam marched, not looking back, and his father followed the small figure
implacably.

"You goin' to whip me?" quavered Penrod, alone with Justice.

"Wash your face at that hydrant," said his father sternly.

About fifteen minutes later, Penrod, hurriedly entering the corner drug
store, two blocks distant, was astonished to perceive a familiar form at
the soda counter.

"Yay, Penrod," said Sam Williams. "Want some sody? Come on. He didn't
lick me. He didn't do anything to me at all. He gave me a q