That was the spark. They acted immediately; and a minute later Duke, released from custody with a competent potion of the smallpox medicine inside him, settled conclusively their doubts concerning its effect. The patient animal, accustomed to expect the worst at all times, walked out of the door, shaking his head with an air of considerable annoyance, opening and closing his mouth with singular energy--and so repeatedly that they began to count the number of times he did it. Sam thought it was thirty-nine times, but Penrod had counted forty-one before other and more striking symptoms appeared. All things come from Mother Earth and must return--Duke restored much at this time. Afterward, he ate heartily of grass; and then, over his shoulder, he bent upon his master one inscrutable look and departed feebly to the front yard. The two boys had watched the process with warm interest. “I told you she was strong!” said Mr. Williams proudly. “Yes, sir--she is!” Penrod was generous enough to admit. “I expect she's strong enough----” He paused in thought, and added: “We haven't got a horse any more.” “I bet you she'd fix him if you had!” said Sam. And it may be that this was no idle boast. The pharmaceutical game was not resumed; the experiment upon Duke had made the drug store commonplace and stimulated the appetite for stronger meat. Lounging in the doorway, the near-vivisectionists sipped licorice water alternately and conversed. “I bet some of our smallpox medicine would fix ole P'fessor Bartet all right!” quoth Penrod. “I wish he'd come along and ask us for some.” “We could tell him it was lickrish water,” added Sam, liking the idea. “The two bottles look almost the same.” “Then we wouldn't have to go to his ole cotillon this afternoon,” Penrod sighed. “There wouldn't be any!” “Who's your partner, Pen?” “Who's yours?” “Who's yours? I just ast you.” “Oh, she's all right!” And Penrod smiled boastfully. “I bet you wanted to dance with Marjorie!” said his friend. “Me? I wouldn't dance with that girl if she begged me to! I wouldn't dance with her to save her from drowning! I wouldn't da----” “Oh, no--you wouldn't!” interrupted Mr. Williams skeptically. Penrod changed his tone and became persuasive. “Looky here, Sam,” he said confidentially. “I've got 'a mighty nice partner, but my mother don't like her mother; and so I've been thinking I better not dance with her. I'll tell you what I'll do; I've got a mighty good sling in the house, and I'll give it to you if you'll change partners.”