"Yes; this is NICE!" Sam said, in a tone of plaintive sarcasm.
"This is a PERTY way to do!" (He was alluding to the personal
spitefulness of the elements.) "I'd like to know what's the sense
of it--ole sun pourin' down every day in the week when nobody
needs it, then cloud up and rain all Saturday! My father said
it's goin' to be a three days' rain."
"Well, nobody with any sense cares if it rains Sunday and
Monday," Penrod said. "I wouldn't care if it rained every Sunday
as long I lived; but I just like to know what's the reason it had
to go and rain to-day. Got all the days o' the week to choose
from and goes and picks on Saturday. That's a fine biz'nuss!"
"Well, in vacation--" Sam began; but at a sound from a source
invisible to him he paused. "What's that?" he said, somewhat
startled.
It was a curious sound, loud and hollow and unhuman, yet it
seemed to be a cough. Both boys rose, and Penrod asked uneasily:
"Where'd that noise come from?"
"It's in the alley," said Sam.
Perhaps if the day had been bright, both of them would have
stepped immediately to the alley doors to investigate; but their
actual procedure was to move a little distance in the opposite
direction.
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