“Work!” repeated Donald, casting on his brother a look of admiration. “It couldn’t have worked better if you’d spent a week in planning it. The old duffer we struck first swelled up like a hot balloon and threatened to call a cop to pinch him. The second fellow, the lean chap with the bald head, got funny and knocked Tommy’s dip off on to the floor. Tommy got crazy and grabbed a pitchfork, and I thought sure there was going to be murder.” Duncan was giggling joyously. “If I could only have been there! Tell it to me from the beginning, Don, and be sure you don’t leave anything out.” Donald had just finished his second detailed description when Tompkins’s knock was heard, and the victim appeared. He walked solemnly into the room and turned directly to Duncan, a single glance at the two expressive faces having betrayed the guilty one. “By rights I ought to get mad as a hatter,” he said, “and run amuck among the Pecks for about twenty minutes; but I’m not going to do it. The trick was so good that I’m going to forget about it. But let me tell you two fellows once for all, I’ve had all the things to forget that I want. The next time that you try any of your little games on me there’ll be a peck of trouble,—do you understand?—and a Peck in trouble. I’m giving you a last warning.” “Much obliged,” returned Duncan, grinning broadly. Now that the storm no longer threatened, his courage and delight were returning. “Now tell me what put you next that trick?” demanded the senior. “That’s my secret,” replied Duncan. “He invented it himself, of course,” declared Donald, proudly. That afternoon, at the slightest chuckle from Peck Number One, Number Two burst into a violent titter. And they both had poor lessons. Mr. Moore was actually forced to interrupt the recitation in order to inform the Pecks that their conduct was most reprehensible, and that their recitations were good proof that silly faces and empty heads were usually found together. All of which the Pecks received with becoming humility. CHAPTER XII THE HALO FADES