He threw the melon hard against the barn. It burst against the siding, breaking into a dozen fragments and leaving an unsightly blotch of oozing seeds.
“Jerry, you shouldn’t do that,” Penny chided. “Mrs. Davis won’t like it.”
“Okay, I’ll be good,” the reporter promised. “The temptation was just too strong to resist.”
By this time, the hubbub in the melon patch had slightly subsided as the youngsters gained their fill of cantaloupe. Soon institution officials began to pilot the children to the waiting cars. Several lads protested at the early termination of the party.
“Do let the boys stay awhile longer,” Penny pleaded. “Jerry and I will bring them back in a few minutes.”
“Very well,” the matron consented. “But don’t allow them to eat so many melons that they will be sick.”
The responsibility of looking after six orphans weighed heavily upon Penny. After the cars had driven away, she and Jerry patrolled the patch, trying vainly to maintain order. With institution authorities no longer present, the boys proceeded to enjoy themselves. They ran races down the furrows, lassoed one another with vines, and pelted ripe melons against the fence posts.
“Hey, you little hoodlums!” Jerry shouted. “Cut it out or you’ll go back to the Home pronto!”
“Says who?” mocked one saucy little fellow in a piping voice.
“Quiet everyone!” commanded Penny suddenly. “Listen!”