... In the library, after Margaret's departure to her dance, Mr. and Mrs. Schofield were still discussing the visitation, Penrod having accompanied his homeward-bound guest as far as the front gate. “No; you're wrong,” Mrs. Schofield said, upholding a theory, earlier developed by Margaret, that the animated behaviour of the cape could be satisfactorily explained on no other ground than the supernatural. “You see, the boys saying they couldn't remember what Mrs. Williams wanted them to tell Margaret, and that probably she hadn't told them anything to tell her, because most likely they'd misunderstood something she said--well, of course, all that does sound mixed-up and peculiar; but they sound that way about half the time, anyhow. No; it couldn't possibly have had a thing to do with it. They were right there at the table with us all the time, and they came straight to the table the minute they entered the house. Before that, they'd been over at Sam's all afternoon. So, it COULDN'T have been the boys.” Mrs. Schofield paused to ruminate with a little air of pride; then added: “Margaret has often thought--oh, long before this!--that she was a medium. I mean--if she would let her self. So it wasn't anything the boys did.” Mr. Schofield grunted. “I'll admit this much,” he said. “I'll admit it wasn't anything we'll ever get out of 'em.” And the remarks of Sam and Penrod, taking leave of each other, one on each side of the gate, appeared to corroborate Mr. Schofield's opinion. “Well, g'-night, Penrod,” Sam said. “It was a pretty good Saturday, wasn't it?” “Fine!” said Penrod casually. “G'-night, Sam.” CHAPTER III. THE MILITARIST PENROD SCHOFIELD, having been “kept-in” for the unjust period of twenty minutes after school, emerged to a deserted street. That is, the street was deserted so far as Penrod was concerned. Here and there people were to be seen upon the sidewalks, but they were adults, and they and the shade trees had about the same quality of significance in Penrod's consciousness. Usually he saw grown people in the mass, which is to say, they were virtually invisible to him, though exceptions must be taken in favour of policemen, firemen, street-car conductors, motormen, and all other men in any sort of uniform or regalia. But this afternoon none of these met the roving eye, and Penrod set out upon his homeward way wholly dependent upon his own resources.