So, it COULDN'T have been the boys." Mrs.
Schofield paused to ruminate with a little air of pride; then
added: "Margaret has often thought--oh, long before this!--that
she was a medium. I mean--if she would let her self. So it wasn't
anything the boys did."
Mr. Schofield grunted.
"I'll admit this much," he said. "I'll admit it wasn't anything
we'll ever get out of 'em."
And the remarks of Sam and Penrod, taking leave of each other,
one on each side of the gate, appeared to corroborate Mr.
Schofield's opinion.
"Well, g'-night, Penrod," Sam said. "It was a pretty good
Saturday, wasn't it?"
"Fine!" said Penrod casually. "G'-night, Sam."
CHAPTER III. THE MILITARIST
PENROD SCHOFIELD, having been "kept-in" for the unjust period of
twenty minutes after school, emerged to a deserted street. That
is, the street was deserted so far as Penrod was concerned. Here
and there people were to be seen upon the sidewalks, but they
were adults, and they and the shade trees had about the same
quality of significance in Penrod's consciousness. Usually he saw
grown people in the mass, which is to say, they were virtually
invisible to him, though exceptions must be taken in favour of
policemen, firemen, street-car conductors, motormen, and all
other men in any sort of uniform or regalia.
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