exppresions have not got any effect on me only to injure your own self
when you go to meet your Maker Oh I guess you have had enogh for one day
and I think you have learned a lesson and will not soon atemp to beard
Harold Ramorez again so with a tantig laugh he cooly lit a cigarrete and
takin the keys of the cell from Mr Wilson poket went on out.

Soon Mr Wilson and the wonded detective manged to bind up their wonds
and got up off the floor---- ----it I will have that dasstads life now
sneered they if we have to swing for it---- ---- ---- ----him he shall
not eccape us again the low down---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Chapiter seventh

A mule train of heavily laden burros laden with gold from the mines was
to be seen wondering among the highest clifts and gorgs of the Rocky Mts
and a tall man with a long silken mustash and a cartigde belt could be
heard cursin vile oaths because he well knew this was the lair of Harold
Ramorez Why---- ---- ----you you---- ---- ---- ---- mules you sneered he
because the poor mules were not able to go any quicker ---- you I will
show you Why---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----it sneered he his oaths growing
viler and viler I will whip you---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----you
sos you will not be able to walk for a week---- ----you you mean old----
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----mules you

Scarcly had the vile words left his lips when----

"PENROD!"

It was his mother's voice, calling from the back porch.

Simultaneously, the noon whistles began to blow, far and near; and the
romancer in the sawdust-box, summoned prosaically from steep mountain
passes above the clouds, paused with stubby pencil halfway from lip to
knee. His eyes were shining: there was a rapt sweetness in his gaze. As
he wrote, his burden had grown lighter; thoughts of Mrs. Lora Rewbush
had almost left him; and in particular as he recounted (even by
the chaste dash) the annoyed expressions of Mr. Wilson, the wounded
detective, and the silken moustached mule-driver, he had felt
mysteriously relieved concerning the Child Sir Lancelot. Altogether he
looked a better and a brighter boy.

"Pen-ROD!"

The rapt look faded slowly. He sighed, but moved not.

"Penrod! We're having lunch early just on your account, so you'll have
plenty of time to be dressed for the pageant. Hurry!"

There was silence in Penrod's aerie.

"PEN-rod!"

Mrs. Schofields voice sounded nearer, indicating a threatened approach.
Penrod bestirred