His hypocrisy was shallow: many a horrible quarter of an hour had taught him his duty in this matter.
"El-e-VAY-ter!" shouted Penrod sternly.

"You want me to come down there to you ?" Duke looked suddenly haggard.

He pawed the basket feebly again and, upon another outburst from on high, prostrated himself flat.

Again threatened, he gave a superb impersonation of a worm.
"You get in that el-e-VAY-ter!" Reckless with despair, Duke jumped into the basket, landing in a dishevelled posture, which he did not alter until he had been drawn up and poured out upon the floor of sawdust with the box.

There, shuddering, he lay in doughnut shape and presently slumbered.
It was dark in the box, a condition that might have been remedied by sliding back a small wooden panel on runners, which would have let in ample light from the alley; but Penrod Schofield had more interesting means of illumination.