On the contrary, Sam perceived a favourable opportunity for action.
“I just as soon go and make his bed up while he's layin' down,” he volunteered. “You climb up on the manger and watch him, Penrod, and I'll sneak in the other stall and fix it all up nice for him, so's he can go in there any time when he wakes up, and lay down again, or anything; and if he starts to get up, you holler and I'll jump out over the other manger.”
Accordingly, Penrod established himself in a position to observe the recumbent figure. Whitey's breathing was rather laboured but regular, and, as Sam remarked, he looked “better”, even in his slumber. It is not to be doubted that although Whitey was suffering from a light attack of colic his feelings were in the main those of contentment. After trouble, he was solaced; after exposure, he was sheltered; after hunger and thirst, he was fed and watered. He slept.
The noon whistles blew before Sam's task was finished; but by the time he departed for lunch there was made a bed of such quality that Whitey must needs have been a born fault-finder if he complained of it. The friends parted, each urging the other to be prompt in returning; but Penrod got into threatening difficulties as soon as he entered the house.
CHAPTER IX. REWARD OF MERIT
“Penrod,” said his mother, “what did you do with that loaf of bread Della says you took from the table?”
“Ma'am? WHAT loaf o' bread?”
“I believe I can't let you go outdoors this afternoon,” Mrs. Schofield said severely. “If you were hungry, you know perfectly well all you had to do was to—”
“But I wasn't hungry; I—”