"Why can't we put some REAL bonds
on him? We could put bonds on his wrists and around his legs--we
could put 'em all over him, easy as nothin'. Then we could gag
him--"
"No, we can't," said Penrod. "We can't, for the main and simple
reason we haven't got any rope or anything to make the bonds
with, have we? I wish we had some o' that stuff they give sick
people. THEN, I bet they wouldn't get him back so soon!"
"Sick people?" Sam repeated, not comprehending.
"It makes 'em go to sleep, no matter what you do to 'em," Penrod
explained. "That's the main and simple reason they can't wake up,
and you can cut off their ole legs--or their arms, or anything
you want to."
"Hoy!" exclaimed Verman, in a serious tone. His laughter ceased
instantly, and he began to utter a protest sufficiently
intelligible.
"You needn't worry," Penrod said gloomily. "We haven't got any o'
that stuff; so we can't do it."
"Well, we got to do sumpthing," Sam said.
His comrade agreed, and there was a thoughtful silence; but
presently Penrod's countenance brightened.
"I know!" he exclaimed.
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