Sam Williams's mouth fell open; he was silenced indeed. But for a moment, the confused and badgered Roddy was incredulous; he had not dreamed that Penrod possessed such a sum. “Lemme take a look at that money!” he said. If at first there had been in Roddy's mind a little doubt about his present rights of ownership, he had talked himself out of it. Also, his financial supplies for the month were cut off, on account of the careless dog. Finally, he thought that the horn was worth about fifty cents. “I'll do it, Penrod!” he said with decision. Thereupon Penrod shouted aloud, prancing up and down the carriage-house with the horn. Roddy was happy, too, land mingled his voice with Penrod's. “Hi! Hi! Hi!” shouted Roddy Bitts. “I'm goin' to buy me an air-gun down at Fox's hardware store!” And he departed, galloping. ... He returned the following afternoon. School was over, and Penrod and Sam were again in the stable; Penrod “was practising” upon the horn, with Sam for an unenthusiastic spectator and auditor. Master Bitts' brow was heavy; he looked uneasy. “Penrod,” he began, “I got to--” Penrod removed the horn briefly from his lips. “Don't come bangin' around here and interrup' me all the time,” he said severely. “I got to practice.” And he again pressed the mouthpiece to his lips. He was not of those whom importance makes gracious. “Look here, Penrod,” said Roddy, “I got to have that horn back.” Penrod lowered the horn quickly enough at this. “What you talkin' about?” he demanded. “What you want to come bangin' around here for and--” “I came around here for that horn,” Master Bitts returned, and his manner was both dogged and apprehensive, the apprehension being more prevalent when he looked at Sam. “I got to have that horn,” he said. Sam, who had been sitting in the wheelbarrow, jumped up and began to dance triumphantly. “Yay! It WASN'T his, after all! Roddy Bitts told a big l--” “I never, either!” Roddy almost wailed. “Well, what you want the horn back for?” the terrible Sam demanded. “Well, 'cause I want it. I got a right to want it if I want to, haven't I?” Penrod's face had flushed with indignation. “You look here, Sam,” he began hotly. “Didn't you hear Roddy say this was his horn?” “He said it!” Sam declared. “He said it a million times!” “Well, and didn't he sell this horn to me?” “Yes, SIR!” “Didn't I pay him money cash down for it?” “Two dollars!” “Well, and ain't it my horn now, Sam?” “You bet you!” “YES, sir!” Penrod went on with vigour. “It's my horn now whether it belonged to you or not, Roddy, because you SOLD it to me and I paid my good ole money for it. I guess a thing belongs to th`, person that paid their own money for it, doesn't it? _I_ don't haf to give up my own propaty, even if you did come on over here and told us a big l--”