“How did you get inside the vase?” several voices questioned.
Penny laughed.
“That was easy. I slid through the table leg. It was hollow and went down like a tunnel under the stage.”
“I was there,” Wally spoke up proudly. “I pushed up Penny and the roses through the table and through the bottom of the vase. It was a neat trick. I only wish—”
“What?” everybody asked when he paused.
“I wish my father’s pocketknife would turn up like Penny did,” he said ruefully. “Pop’s mad at me. I borrowed it to play with, and dropped it in the hay in your barn, Judy.”
“You did?” Judy asked. “When was this?”
“Saturday morning,” he replied. “I was going to look for it, but Ricky chased me out of there. We’d had a fight. He said, ‘Don’t look for it!’ I was going to come back and hunt around later, but he kept chasing me out, and yelling, ‘Run!’ and I was scared. He can throw knives, that Ricky! He’s—”
“Wait a minute,” Judy stopped him. “He has a knife, but have you ever seen him throw it?”
“N-no,” Wally admitted. “He can throw a lasso, though.”