"Say, that was a dandy anthem, wasn't it?" he would say to the good Father. "Suited me down to the ground! Good sermon you preached, too, Father. Common sense! I liked that sermon. Only, wasn't you just a mite hard on the heathen? I've known dandy heathen, sir, simply dandy. I wish't you knew old Sing Lee. He used to tell about a guy they call Confusion, and I never could see why they called him that, for he was plain as print, 'peared to me, and his ideas was dandy, they sure was. Well, so long, Father! Yes, sir, I'd like a blessin' real well; thank you kindly!" Taking his leave, he would leave the house very quietly, shutting the door after him without a sound. Before going home he would wander, apparently aimlessly, about the town, diving into alleys, coming suddenly round corners, exploring the quarter of the town known familiarly as Devildom. During this week the pilferings hung fire. Anxious housewives counted their garments on the line, storekeepers looked well to tills, locks and bolts, and slept with their pocketbooks under their pillows; but nothing happened, and it began to be whispered about that "the mean folks" had left town and gone elsewhere. Toward the end of the week Pippin made an excursion to a neighboring village on urgent representation from one of its inhabitants, "sharpened 'em up good," as he expressed it, all round, gave them a Gospel concert, spent a happy day visiting round among the scattered farms, and started for home with a light heart and a pocketful of dimes. He had covered a good deal of ground, and became aware that he was distinctly "leg weary"; but green grass! he thought, what a dandy time he had had, and how good supper would taste! It was growing dusk as he drew near Kingdom. There was the patch of woods that was full of violets a month ago. He wondered if there would be any still in bloom. Mrs. Baxter was ter'ble fond of violets (and yet they wa'n't her pattern, you'd think; pineys was more her kind), but if there _was_ any violets-- Entering the cool shade of the wood path, he was pacing slowly along, glancing left and right for the "proud virgins of the year," when he heard a rustling among the bushes by the roadside. Thought flashed back to that day--only a week ago, was it? It seemed a month--when those other bushes had rustled. For an instant he dreaded to see the pale, lovely, imploring face of the imbecile girl; then common sense returned. "She couldn't have got so far," was his first thought; "nor yet she wouldn't be wearin' pants!" his second. There was no time for a third. Out from the shadow stepped two masked figures, one of them with a leveled pistol. "Throw up your hands!" "That's what!" said Pippin.