“All right,” Penrod repeated dully.
Sam turned to go, but paused. A new straw hat was peregrinating along the fence near the two boys. This hat belonged to someone passing upon the sidewalk of the cross-street; and the someone was Maurice Levy. Even as they stared, he halted and regarded them over the fence with two small, dark eyes.
Fate had brought about this moment and this confrontation.
CHAPTER XIV MAURICE LEVY'S CONSTITUTION
“Lo, Sam!” said Maurice cautiously. “What you doin'?”
Penrod at that instant had a singular experience—an intellectual shock like a flash of fire in the brain. Sitting in darkness, a great light flooded him with wild brilliance. He gasped!
“What you doin'?” repeated Mr. Levy.
Penrod sprang to his feet, seized the licorice bottle, shook it with stoppering thumb, and took a long drink with histrionic unction.
“What you doin'?” asked Maurice for the third time, Sam Williams not having decided upon a reply.