"Tell me who did it, and I'll soon settle with him."
"Who rolled over the buttertub?" asked Tom solemnly. "One peanut reward
for the first correct answer to this absorbing puzzle. Please don't all
raise your hands at once."
"I believe you did it, Tom Rover!" bellowed the rich youth.
"I? Never, Tubby, my dear boy. I never rolled over a buttertub in my
life. You've got the wrong number. Kindly ring the bell next door."
"Then it was Sam, and I'll fix him for it, see if I don't!"
"No, it wasn't Sam. He never touched a washtub in his life."
"I say it was Sam," cried Tubbs, who was almost beside himself with
rage. "And I'm going to teach him a lesson. There, Sam Rover, how do you
like that?"
As the rich youth finished, he caught the youngest Rover by the shoulder
with his left hand and with his right gave Sam a slanting blow on the
cheek.
"Stop! I didn't trip you!" exclaimed Sam; and then as Tubbs aimed
another blow at him he ducked and broke loose and hit out in return. His
blow was harder and more truly aimed than he had anticipated, and it
took Tubbs directly on the nose.
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