once became less self-assertive.

"I'd shoot her off in a minute," Sam said, "only it might break
sumpthing if it hit it."

"Hold her up in the air, then. It can't hurt the roof, can it?"

Sam, with a desperate expression, lifted the revolver at arm's length.
Both boys turned away their heads, and Penrod put his fingers in his
ears--but nothing happened. "What's the matter?" he demanded. "Why don't
you go on if you're goin' to?"

Sam lowered his arm. "I guess I didn't have her cocked," he said
apologetically, whereupon Penrod loudly jeered.

"Tryin' to shoot a revolaver and didn't know enough to cock her! If I
didn't know any more about revolavers than that, I'd----"

"There!" Sam exclaimed, managing to draw back the hammer until two
chilling clicks warranted his opinion that the pistol was now ready to
perform its office. "I guess she'll do all right to suit you _this_
time!"

"Well, why'n't you go ahead, then; you know so much!" And as Sam raised
his arm, Penrod again turned away his head and placed his forefingers
in his ears.

A pause followed.

"Why'n't you go ahead?"

Penrod, after waiting in keen suspense, turned to behold his friend
standing with his right arm above his head, his left hand over his left
ear, and both eyes closed.

"I can't pull the trigger," said Sam indistinctly, his face convulsed as
in sympathy with the great muscular efforts of other parts of his body.
"She won't pull!"

"She won't?" Penrod remarked with scorn. "I'll bet _I_ could pull her."

Sam promptly opened his eyes and handed the weapon to Penrod.

"All right," he said, with surprising and unusual mildness. "You try
her, then."

Inwardly discomfited to a disagreeable extent, Penrod attempted to talk
his own misgivings out of countenance.

"Poor 'ittle baby!" he said, swinging the pistol at his side with a fair
pretense of careless ease. "Ain't even strong enough to pull a trigger!
Poor 'ittle baby! Well, if you can't even do that much, you better watch
me while _I_----"

"Well," said Sam reasonably, "why don't you go on and do it then?"

"Well, I _am_ goin' to, ain't I?"

"Well, then, why don't you?"

"Oh, I'll do it fast enough to suit _you_, I guess," Penrod retorted,
swinging the big revolver up a little higher than his shoulder and
pointing it in the direction of the double doors, which opened upon the
alley. "You better run, Sam," he jeered. "You'll be pretty scared when I
shoot her off, I guess."

"We