mother'll come and make him get out the first--"

"No, she won't. She and Margaret have gone to my aunt's in the
country, and aren't goin' to be back till dark. And even if he
made a lot o' noise, it's kind of hard to hear anything from in
there, anyway, when the door's shut. Besides, he's got to keep
quiet--that's the rule, Verman. You're a pris'ner, and it's the
rule you can't holler or nothin'. You unnerstand that, Verman?"

"Aw wi," said Verman.

"Then go on in there. Hurry!"

The obedient Verman marched into the closet and sat down among
the shoes and slippers, where he presented an interesting effect
of contrast. He was still subject to hilarity--though
endeavouring to suppress it by means of a patent-leather
slipper--when Penrod closed the door.

"There!" said Penrod, leading the way from the room. "I guess NOW
you see!"

Sam said nothing, and they came out to the open air and reached
their retreat in the Williams' yard again, without his having
acknowledged Penrod's service to their mutual cause.

"I thought of that just as easy!" Penrod remarked, probably
prompted to this odious bit of complacency by Sam's withholding
the praise that might naturally have been expected. And he was
moved to add, "I guess it'd of been a pretty long while if we'd