It was eloquent tribute to the Shark’s moral influence that Orkney appeared to be impressed. At all events, though he scowled fiercely, he received the advice in silence. Two or three boys on the outskirts of the group began to move off. To Sam it seemed to be probable that the storm had blown over. He released his hold upon Step’s collar; whereupon Step, still wrathful, took two long strides; found himself beside Orkney; plucked off his opponent’s cap, and sent it flying through the air. It sailed over a fence, struck the trunk of a tree, and dropped to the ground. Orkney bristled, but Sam already had laid hands upon Step, and was dragging him back. “Here! Quit all this foolishness!” the peacemaker ordered. “Make him get that cap, then!” Orkney insisted. “Won’t!” cried Step, and struggled to break from Sam’s hold. Again the Shark intervened. “No; it was a kid trick, but now that it’s done, we’ll let it stay done. Orkney, if you hadn’t bulldozed Step, and started the whole thing, the cap would still be on your head. So I guess it’s up to you to put it back there--or let it stay where it is.” “Sure! It was a six-year-old’s performance, but the Shark has the right notion,” Sam agreed. There was an instant in which Orkney hesitated between war and peace. Then he reached a decision which was compromise--and as unsatisfactory as compromises often are. He neither gave battle nor retrieved his headgear. Instead, with a parting scowl, which included all the allies, he wheeled, and marched away, bareheaded. “You, Step, you bring that cap to my house, or you’ll be sorry!” he called back over his shoulder. “Never!” shouted Step defiantly. The Shark stared at the retreating figure. “I’ll be hanged if the whole bunch oughtn’t to be back in the kindergarten,” was his comment. “Of all idiocies! You plumb make me tired, Step--you and that runaway pal of yours!” “But you wouldn’t get his cap for him if you were in my place,” Step insisted. “But I’m not in your place,” said the Shark drily. Sam shook his head. “Let’s stop this squabbling, fellows. One row’s enough at a time. Or, better yet, let’s end one without starting another.” The Shark’s expression was thoughtful. “If we have ended one,” said he. “Orkney’s a queer duck. There may be more to this ridiculous affair than we dream.” CHAPTER IX POKE AND STEP PUT THEIR HEADS TOGETHER Memory of the successful raid by Mr. Mercer’s big hound and its unhappy results rankled in the breasts of Poke and Step.