He looked within, and discerned the dim outlines of three quiet figures, the third being that of a small dog.
The two boys rose, upon command, descended the ladder after Mr.
Schofield, bringing Duke with them, and stood before the authors of their being, who bent upon them sinister and threatening brows.

With hanging heads and despondent countenances, each still ornamented with a moustache and an imperial, Penrod and Sam awaited sentence.
This is a boy's lot: anything he does, anything whatever, may afterward turn out to have been a crime--he never knows.
And punishment and clemency are alike inexplicable.
Mr.Williams took his son by the ear.
"You march home!" he commanded.
Sam marched, not looking back, and his father followed the small figure implacably.
"You goin' to whip me ?" quavered Penrod, alone with Justice.
"Wash your face at that hydrant," said his father sternly.
About fifteen minutes later, Penrod, hurriedly entering the corner drug store, two blocks distant, was astonished to perceive a familiar form at the soda counter.
"Yay, Penrod," said Sam Williams.

"Want some sody?
Come on.

He didn't lick me.

He didn't do anything to me at all.