g accounts of
the combatants. Marjorie said Penrod began it; Penrod said Mitchy-Mitch
began it; Sam Williams said Georgie Bassett began it; Georgie and
Maurice Levy said Penrod began it; Roderick Bitts, who had not
recognized his first assailant, said Sam Williams began it.

Nobody thought of accusing the barber. But the barber did not begin it;
it was the fly on the barber's nose that began it--though, of course,
something else began the fly. Somehow, we never manage to hang the real
offender.

The end came only with the arrival of Penrod's mother, who had been
having a painful conversation by telephone with Mrs. Jones, the mother
of Marjorie, and came forth to seek an errant son. It is a mystery how
she was able to pick out her own, for by the time she got there his
voice was too hoarse to be recognizable. Mr. Schofield's version of
things was that Penrod was insane. "He's a stark, raving lunatic!"
declared the father, descending to the library from a before-dinner
interview with the outlaw, that evening. "I'd send him to military
school, but I don't believe they'd take him. Do you know WHY he says all
that awfulness happened?"

"When Margaret and I were trying to scrub him," responded Mrs. Schofield
wearily, "he said 'everybody' had been calling him names."

"'Names!'" snorted her husband. "'Little gentleman!' THAT'S the vile
epithet they called him! And because of it he wrecks the peace of six
homes!"

"SH! Yes; he told us about it," said Mrs. Schofield, moaning. "He told
us several hundred times, I should guess, though I didn't count. He's
got it fixed in his head, and we couldn't get it out. All we could do
was to put him in the closet. He'd have gone out again after those boys
if we hadn't. I don't know WHAT to make of him!"

"He's a mystery to ME!" said her husband. "And he refuses to explain
why he objects to being called 'little gentleman.' Says he'd do the same
thing--and worse--if anybody dared to call him that again. He said if
the President of the United States called him that he'd try to whip him.
How long did you have him locked up in the closet?"

"SH!" said Mrs. Schofield warningly. "About two hours; but I don't think
it softened his spirit at all, because when I took him to the barber's
to get his hair clipped again, on account of the tar in it, Sammy
Williams and Maurice Levy were there for the same reason, and they just
WHISPERED 'little gentleman,' so low you could hardly hear them--and
Pe