ed without attraction; the weather-worn colours
conveying no meaning to comprehension at a huge canvas poster depicting
the chief his torpid eye. Then, little by little, the poster became more
vivid to his consciousness. There was a greenish-tinted person in the
tent, it seemed, who thrived upon a reptilian diet.

Suddenly, Penrod decided that it was time to go home.

CHAPTER XX BROTHERS OF ANGELS

"Indeed, doctor," said Mrs. Schofield, with agitation and profound
conviction, just after eight o'clock that evening, "I shall ALWAYS
believe in mustard plasters--mustard plasters and hot--water bags. If
it hadn't been for them I don't believed he'd have LIVED till you got
here--I do NOT!"

"Margaret," called Mr. Schofield from the open door of a bedroom,
"Margaret, where did you put that aromatic ammonia? Where's Margaret?"

But he had to find the aromatic spirits of ammonia himself, for Margaret
was not in the house. She stood in the shadow beneath a maple tree
near the street corner, a guitar-case in her hand; and she scanned with
anxiety a briskly approaching figure. The arc light, swinging above,
revealed this figure as that of him she awaited. He was passing toward
the gate without seeing her, when she arrested him with a fateful
whisper.

"BOB!"

Mr. Robert Williams swung about hastily. "Why, Margaret!"

"Here, take your guitar," she whispered hurriedly. "I was afraid if
father happened to find it he'd break it all to pieces!"

"What for?" asked the startled Robert.

"Because I'm sure he knows it's yours." "But what----"

"Oh, Bob," she moaned, "I was waiting here to tell you. I was so afraid
you'd try to come in----"

"TRY!" exclaimed the unfortunate young man, quite dumfounded. "TRY to
come----"

"Yes, before I warned you. I've been waiting here to tell you, Bob, you
mustn't come near the house if I were you I'd stay away from even this
neighbourhood--far away! For a while I don't think it would be actually
SAFE for----"

"Margaret, will you please----"

"It's all on account of that dollar you gave Penrod this morning," she
walled. "First, he bought that horrible concertina that made papa so
furious--"

"But Penrod didn't tell that I----"

"Oh, wait!" she cried lamentably. "Listen! He didn't tell at lunch, but
he got home about dinner-time in the most--well! I've seen pale people
before, but nothing like Penrod. Nobody could IMAGINE it--not unless
they'd seen him! And he looked, so STRANGE,