"I"ll "tend to it soon"s I get time, Jim," replied the prescription clerk. "I"m busy fixin" the smallpox medicine for the sick policeman downtown."
Penrod stopped sales to watch this operation. Sam had found an empty pint bottle and, with the pursed lips and measuring eye of a great chemist, was engaged in filling it from other bottles.
First, he poured into it some of the syrup from the condemned preserves; and a quant.i.ty of extinct hair oil; next the remaining contents of a dozen small vials cryptically labelled with physicians" prescriptions; then some remnants of catsup and essence of beef and what was left in several bottles of mouthwash; after that a quant.i.ty of rejected flavouring extract--topping off by shaking into the mouth of the bottle various powders from small pink papers, relics of Mr. Schofield"s influenza of the preceding winter.
Sam examined the combination with concern, appearing unsatisfied. "We got to make that smallpox medicine good and strong!" he remarked; and, his artistic sense growing more powerful than his appet.i.te, he poured about a quarter of the licorice water into the smallpox medicine.
"What you doin"?" protested Penrod. "What you want to waste that lickrish water for? We ought to keep it to drink when we"re tired."
"I guess I got a right to use my own lickrish water any way I want to,"
replied the prescription clerk. "I tell you, you can"t get smallpox medicine too strong. Look at her now!" He held the bottle up admiringly.
"She"s as black as lickrish. I bet you she"s strong all right!"
"I wonder how she tastes?" said Penrod thoughtfully.
"Don"t smell so awful much," observed Sam, sniffing the bottle--"a good deal, though!"
"I wonder if it"d make us sick to drink it?" said Penrod.
Sam looked at the bottle thoughtfully; then his eye, wandering, fell upon Duke, placidly curled up near the door, and lighted with the advent of an idea new to him, but old, old in the world--older than Egypt!
"Let"s give Duke some!" he cried.
That was the spark. They acted immediately; and a minute later Duke, released from custody with a competent potion of the smallpox medicine inside him, settled conclusively their doubts concerning its effect. The patient animal, accustomed to expect the worst at all times, walked out of the door, shaking his head with an air of considerable annoyance, opening and closing his mouth with singular energy--and so repeatedly that they began to count the number of times he did it. Sam thought it was thirty-nine times, but Penrod had counted forty-one before other and more striking symptoms appeared.
All things come from Mother Earth and must return--Duke restored much at this time. Afterward, he ate heartily of gra.s.s; and then, over his shoulder, he bent upon his master one inscrutable look and departed feebly to the front yard.
The two boys had watched the process with warm interest. "I told you she was strong!" said Mr. Williams proudly.
"Yes, sir--she is!" Penrod was generous enough to admit. "I expect she"s strong enough----" He paused in thought, and added:
"We haven"t got a horse any more."
"I bet you she"d fix him if you had!" said Sam. And it may be that this was no idle boast.
The pharmaceutical game was not resumed; the experiment upon Duke had made the drug store commonplace and stimulated the appet.i.te for stronger meat. Lounging in the doorway, the near-vivisectionists sipped licorice water alternately and conversed.
"I bet some of our smallpox medicine would fix ole P"fessor Bartet all right!" quoth Penrod. "I wish he"d come along and ask us for some."
"We could tell him it was lickrish water," added Sam, liking the idea.
"The two bottles look almost the same."
"Then we wouldn"t have to go to his ole cotillon this afternoon," Penrod sighed. "There wouldn"t be any!"
"Who"s your partner, Pen?"
"Who"s yours?"
"Who"s yours? I just ast you."
"Oh, she"s all right!" And Penrod smiled boastfully.
"I bet you wanted to dance with Marjorie!" said his friend.
"Me? I wouldn"t dance with that girl if she begged me to! I wouldn"t dance with her to save her from drowning! I wouldn"t da----"
"Oh, no--you wouldn"t!" interrupted Mr. Williams skeptically.
Penrod changed his tone and became persuasive.
"Looky here, Sam," he said confidentially. "I"ve got "a mighty nice partner, but my mother don"t like her mother; and so I"ve been thinking I better not dance with her. I"ll tell you what I"ll do; I"ve got a mighty good sling in the house, and I"ll give it to you if you"ll change partners."
"You want to change and you don"t even know who mine is!" said Sam, and he made the simple though precocious deduction: "Yours must be a lala!
Well, I invited Mabel Rorebeck, and she wouldn"t let me change if I wanted to. Mabel Rorebeck"d rather dance with me," he continued serenely, "than anybody; and she said she was awful afraid you"d ast her. But I ain"t goin" to dance with Mabel after all, because this morning she sent me a note about her uncle died last night--and P"fessor Bartet"ll have to find me a partner after I get there. Anyway I bet you haven"t got any sling--and I bet your partner"s Baby Rennsdale!"
"What if she is?" said Penrod. "She"s good enough for ME!" This speech held not so much modesty in solution as intended praise of the lady.
Taken literally, however, it was an understatement of the facts and wholly insincere.
"Yay!" jeered Mr. Williams, upon whom his friend"s hypocrisy was quite wasted. "How can your mother not like her mother? Baby Rennsdale hasn"t got any mother! You and her"ll be a sight!"
That was Penrod"s own conviction; and with this corroboration of it he grew so spiritless that he could offer no retort. He slid to a despondent sitting posture upon the door sill and gazed wretchedly upon the ground, while his companion went to replenish the licorice water at the hydrant--enfeebling the potency of the liquor no doubt, but making up for that in quant.i.ty.
"Your mother goin" with you to the cotillon?" asked Sam when he returned.
"No. She"s goin" to meet me there. She"s goin" somewhere first."
"So"s mine," said Sam. "I"ll come by for you."
"All right."
"I better go before long. Noon whistles been blowin"."
"All right," Penrod repeated dully.
Sam turned to go, but paused. A new straw hat was peregrinating along the fence near the two boys. This hat belonged to someone pa.s.sing upon the sidewalk of the cross-street; and the someone was Maurice Levy.
Even as they stared, he halted and regarded them over the fence with two small, dark eyes.
Fate had brought about this moment and this confrontation.
CHAPTER XIV MAURICE LEVY"S CONSt.i.tUTION
"Lo, Sam!" said Maurice cautiously. "What you doin"?"
Penrod at that instant had a singular experience--an intellectual shock like a flash of fire in the brain. Sitting in darkness, a great light flooded him with wild brilliance. He gasped!
"What you doin"?" repeated Mr. Levy.