Thus does the long-dreamed Real misbehave--not only for Penrod! More out of a sense of duty to bingism in general than for any other reason, he pointed the revolver at the lawn-mower, and gloomily murmured, “Bing!” Simultaneously, a low and cautious voice sounded from the yard outside, “Yay, Penrod!” and Sam Williams darkened the doorway, his eye falling instantly upon the weapon in his friend's hand. Sam seemed relieved to see it. “You didn't get caught with it, did you?” he said hastily. Penrod shook his head, rising. “I guess not! I guess I got SOME brains around me,” he added, inspired by Sam's presence to assume a slight swagger. “They'd have to get up pretty early to find any good ole revolaver, once I got MY hands on it!” “I guess we can keep it, all right,” Sam said confidentially. “Because this morning papa was putting on his winter underclothes and he found it wasn't there, and they looked all over and everywhere, and he was pretty mad, and said he knew it was those cheap plumbers stole it that mamma got instead of the regular plumbers he always used to have, and he said there wasn't any chance ever gettin' it back, because you couldn't tell which one took it, and they'd all swear it wasn't them. So it looks like we could keep it for our revolaver, Penrod, don't it? I'll give you half of it.” Penrod affected some enthusiasm. “Sam, we'll keep it out here in the stable.” “Yes, and we'll go huntin' with it. We'll do lots of things with it!” But Sam made no effort to take it, and neither boy seemed to feel yesterday's necessity to show the other how he did. “Wait till next Fourth o' July!” Sam continued. “Oh, oh! Look out!” This incited a genuine spark from Penrod. “Fourth o' July! I guess she'll be a little better than any firecrackers! Just a little 'Bing!' Bing! Bing!' she'll be goin'. 'Bing! Bing! Bing!'” The suggestion of noise stirred his comrade. “I'll bet she'll go off louder'n that time the gas-works blew up! I wouldn't be afraid to shoot her off ANY time.” “I bet you would,” said Penrod. “You aren't used to revolavers the way I--” “You aren't, either!” Sam exclaimed promptly, “I wouldn't be any more afraid to shoot her off than you would.” “You would, too!” “I would not!” “Well, let's see you then; you talk so much!” And Penrod handed the weapon scornfully to Sam, who at once became less self-assertive. “I'd shoot her off in a minute,” Sam said, “only it might break sumpthing if it hit it.” “Hold her up in the air, then. It can't hurt the roof, can it?” Sam, with a desperate expression, lifted the revolver at arm's length. Both boys turned away their heads, and Penrod put his fingers in his ears--but nothing happened. “What's the matter?” he demanded. “Why don't you go on if you're goin' to?” Sam lowered his arm. “I guess I didn't have her cocked,” he said apologetically, whereupon Penrod loudly jeered.