I said to Westy, “If we don’t have to go to the penitentiary, maybe we’ll be out in time to go to school this afternoon—out of the frying pan into the fire.” “I haven’t given up hope of the penitentiary,” Westy said. “While there’s life there’s soap,” I said. “We’ll have to get our mothers to write us notes to our teachers, saying we had to stay away on account of being accused of a crime, and that we’ll try not to be late the next time.” “What do you mean? The next time we commit a crime?” he wanted to know. I said, “The next time I’m out on patrol—I mean parole—I hope it will be on a Wednesday on account of matinee at the Lyric.” The inventor said, “I haven’t got any mother, so maybe if I have to have a letter maybe one of your mothers will write it, hey?” Gee whiz, I just looked at Westy and he just kind of looked at me, but neither one of us said anything. “Don’t you worry, inventor,” I said; “we’ve got mothers enough to go round; never you mind.” He said, “Maybe if they don’t like me they wouldn’t give me a letter, hey? Maybe they won’t.” CHAPTER XXVIII—“FINDINGS, KEEPINGS” Now comes the big court scene. It’s short, that’s one good thing. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I guess that’s why they called it a hearing. No wonder you couldn’t hear it, because there wasn’t anything to hear. Recorder Van Wort sat behind a desk up on a platform and he was hammering with a mallet. He said everybody should keep still. I whispered to Westy, “That’s a good idea, having that mallet. I think I’ll get one for our patrol meetings.” “You’d better get an ax,” he said, under his breath. Recorder Van Wort was making a man pay twenty-five dollars for stopping his automobile in the wrong place in front of a fire hydrant. I whispered to Westy, “That would be a good place for the inventor to park, in front of a fire hydrant.” Westy kind of giggled and Recorder Van Wort began pounding with his mallet. I said, “Keep still; the first thing you know he’ll throw it at you.” That room was full of people and I could see my father sitting with Mr. Martin. I could see Mr. Slausen, too, sitting on the other side of the room, and Charlie alongside of him. One thing, I was glad Charlie hadn’t run away. But he looked mighty scared and nervous as he sat there. No wonder, because he knew that as soon as we told about seeing him in the garage every one would suspect him. I guess he knew no one would believe him if he denied he had been there. I guess he was afraid of what might happen after Recorder Van Wort got through with us. We weren’t afraid on account of ourselves, but I felt awful sorry for that fellow.