“What’s your burning hurry?” asked Poke. Sam opened the door. “That stove makes it too stuffy in here,” he told them. “I--I’ve just got to have fresh air.” And out he went, closing the door behind him with a force suggesting that he did not care for company in his rambles. CHAPTER V SAM FACES THE MUSIC Almost every town has the misfortune to include among its residents a few persons perhaps best described as “undesirable citizens.” In the case of Plainville by far the most undesirable of these was Peter Groche, idler, sot, brawler, and petty thief. On several occasions vigorous efforts had been made to rid the community of his presence; but Peter, unchastened by thrashings or jail sentences for robbing hen roosts or clothes-lines, persisted in turning up like the worst of bad pennies. There was, therefore, general satisfaction in the town when news spread that, at last, he had been caught in an offense so serious that Plainville reasonably could hope to be relieved of him for a term of several years; especially as the irascible, determined and energetic Major Bates was directly interested in his prosecution. Mr. Parker, returning from his trip to Epworth, heard the news down-town, and brought it home with him. Across the supper table he discussed the matter with his wife, and found her quite of his opinion that a shining example should be made of Peter Groche. The topic, in fact, fairly shared their attention with the annoying absence of the son of the house. Sam had not been home for dinner, Mrs. Parker announced; and now he appeared to have forgotten the supper hour. “I don’t know what has come over the boy,” she said. “He went out right after breakfast, and nobody but Maggie has seen him since. She says he came in about two o’clock and had lunch; and then went out again. I think you’d better talk to him seriously. He doesn’t understand how important it is to a growing boy to have his meals regularly.” “Very well; I’ll take him in hand,” said the father. Mrs. Parker gave a little sigh. “Ah! I feel, sometimes, as if Sam were growing away from me. He’s getting to be such a big fellow, you know. Now and then I can’t but have my doubts that I’m capable of managing him.” “Still, you’ve done very well so far,” her husband assured her. “Sam’s a pretty good boy, as boys go. I don’t happen to think of any other youngster for whom I’d care to exchange him. But if he’s getting beyond you--well, I’ll try my luck. Only”--he hesitated--“only, when I do, perhaps you’d better make it a strictly masculine session. I may have to lay down some rather rigid rules, and--well, it will be just as well not to have an over-merciful court of appeal too conveniently at hand. Send him to me when he comes in, and Master Sam and I will reach an understanding.”