“Why not? How many times does a junkman have to buy a piece of lead before it becomes sinful to steal from him?” “I don't know. But, anyway,” said Lem, “they'd have had to stop pretty soon, because old Shuder would get to know that chunk o' lead by heart, an' he'd know he had bought it before, so he would n't buy it again.” “I'm afraid you don't understand the Riverbank youth's theory of property rights in old metal, Lorna,” said Henrietta. “It seems to be based on the idea that anything that can be picked up belongs to the picker-up.” “But not railroad iron,” said Lem. “You got to leave that alone because nobody'll buy it off you. They'll get pinched if they do.” “But after a junkman has bought it, Lem, it belongs to him,” said Lorna. “I might see how useless old metal, even if not just lying on the street, might seem to be nobody's property, but when it is in a junkman's yard--” “Well, they could take care of it if they wanted to,” said Lem. “They could put barb-wire on the fence, or somethin', if they did n't want it stole. How does anybody know they don't want it stole when they just leave it out in the yard? How would anybody know it was n't just some old junk they left out there on purpose to have it stole?” Lorna looked at Henrietta and shook her head. This sort of logic was too much for her. “But I bet you one thing,” said Lem. “I would n't ever buy any junk they had just stole out of pop's yard. If they went around back an' stole some, an' brought it around front an' wanted to sell it, you bet I would n't buy it. That ain't honest. That's cheatin'.” “So you see, Lorna,” said Henrietta; “what is needed here is an education in property rights and not summary punishment. But I have a feeling that Lem's theory of rights will be hard to make clear to Miss Susan.” “Well, I'll get even with her, all right,” said Lem, nodding his head. “You wait an' you'll see! She can't make my father leave me here an' then go an' tell old Schulig to put me in jail. I'll get even, you bet!” “Listen, Lem,” Henrietta said, taking his hand. “You must not feel that way.” “Well, I do, just the same,” he said. “But you must not. Your Aunt Sue likes you--” “In a pig's eye, she does!” “Yes, she does. She loves you, Lem. We all love you. Your Aunt Sue does n't understand boys yet, and she was upset when she heard you say you had stolen--” “I'll upset her, all right!” The supper bell tinkled and Henrietta arose. “Shall I bring you your supper?” she asked. “A nice tray, with everything on it I can think of? So you won't have to go down this evening?” “Yes, mam. If you want to,” Lem said. They were no sooner out of the room than Lem was out of the bed and putting on his few ragged garments. It required only a moment. Then he pushed up the screen of his only window, climbed out upon the roof, and, hanging from the gutter, dropped to the ground. He paused to see that he was not pursued and then made a dash for the back gate. CHAPTER XII