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Bingism — And Its Cure Proves a Thriller for Penrod and Sam While It Lasts By BOOTH TABKINGTON 1 l <3t3t3>3t3l3<3»3l3<?y yy i3HtK3t3t3l3t3t3<3<3<3<3t3<3>3t3>3>3>3>3l303ta.a.iraTtTra , a«Ü^_] (Copyright, 1917, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.) Penrod Schofield, having been "kept In" for the unjust period of twenty «nImites after school, emerged to a de serted street. That Is, the street was deserted so far as Penrod was con cerned. Here and there people were to be seen upon the sidewalks, hat they were adults, and they and the «hade trees had about the same quality of significance in Penrod's conscious ness. Usually he saw grown people In the mass, which is to say, they were virtually invisible to him, though ex ceptions must be taken In favor of policemen, firemen, street-car conduc tors, motormen and all other men in any sort of uniform or regaliu. But this afternoon none of these met the roving eye, and Penrod set out upon tils homeward way wholly dependent upon his own resources. To one of Penrod's inner texture, a mere unadorned walk from one point to another w'as intolerable, and he tiud not gone a block without achiev ing some slight remedy for the tame ness of life. An electric-light pole at the corner, invested with powers of observation, might have been surprised to llnd itself suddenly enacting a role of dubious honor in Improvised melo drama. Penrod, approaching, gave aj the pole a look of sharp suspicion, T", then one of conviction ; slapped It lightly and contemptuously with his open hand ; passed on a few paces, but turned abruptly and, pointing his rigid forefinger, uttered the symbolic •word, "Bing!" Early childhood is not fastidious about the accessories of its drama— a cane is vividly a gun which may in stantly, as vividly, become a horse; but at Penrod's time of life the lath sword is no longer satisfactory. In deed, he now hud a vague sense that weapons of wood were unworthy to the point of being eontemptible and ridiculous, and he employed them only •when he was alone and unseen. For months a yearning had grow n more and more poignant in his vitals, and this yearning was symbolized by one of his most profound secrets. In the In ner pockets of his jacket he carried a hit of wood whittled Into the distant likeness of a pistol, but not even Sam Williams had seen It. The wooden pis tol never knew the light of day, save when Penrod was in solitude; and yet It never left his side except at night, when It was placed under his pillow. Still, It did not satisfy ; it was but the token of his yearning and his dream. With all his might and main Penrod longed for one thing beyond all others. He wanted a Real Pistol ! At this moment a shout was heard from the alley, "Yay, Penrod!" and the sandy head of com rad Sam Williams appeared above the fence. "Come on over," said Penrod. As Sam obediently climbed the fence, the little old dog, Duke, moved slowly away, but presently, glancing over his shoulder and seeing the two boys standing together, he broke into a trot ami disappeared round a corner of the house. He was a dog of long and en lightening experience; and he made It clear that the conjunction of Penrod and Sam portended events which, from his point of view, might be unfortu nate. Duke had a forgiving disposi tion, but he also possessed a melan choly wisdom. In the company of either Penrod or Sam. alone, affec tion often caused him to linger, albeit with a little pessimism, but when he | saw them together, lie invariably with drew In ns unobtrusive a manner as haste would allow. "What you doin'?" Sam asked. "Nothin'. What you?" "I'll show you If you'll come over to our house," said Sam, who was wear ing an important and secretive expres sion. "What for?" Penrod showed little in terest "Well, I said I'd show you if you came on over, didn't I?" "But you haven't got anything I haven't got," said Penrod indifferent ly. "I know everything that's In your yard and In your stable, and there Isn't a thing—" "I didn't say it was in the yard or in the stable, did I?" "Well, there ain't anything in your house," returned Penrod frankly, "that I'd walk two feet to look at— not a thing!" "Oh, no!" Sam assumed mockery. **Oh, no, you wouldn't ! You know what It Is, don't you? Yes, you do!" Penrod's curiosity stirred somewhat. "Well, all right," he said, "I got nothin' to do. I just as soon go. What Is It?" "Yon wait and see," said Sam, as -they climbed the fence. "I bet your ole eyes'll open pretty far in about a min nte or so!" "I bet they don't. It takes a good deal to get me excited, unless It's «umpthlng mighty—" "You'll see!" Sam promised. He opened an alley gate and stepped Into his own yard In a manner signal ing caution—though the exploit, thus far, certainly required none—and Pen er, TUI. iney enter j encountering no one, and Sam led tne , way upstairs, tiptoeing, implying un- >' visual and increasing peril. Turning, in the upper hall, they went into Sant's father's bedroom, and Sam closed the •door with a caution so genuine that ftl de was con hat the ex of in But the a he at of It his his in to of a | ready Penrod's eyes began to fulfill his host's prediction. Adventures in an other boy's house are trylDg to the nerves; and another boy's father's bed room, when invaded, has a violated sanctity that is almost appalling. Pen rod felt that something was about to happen—something much more import ant thau he had anticipated. Sam tiptoed across Ihe room to a chest of drawers, and, kneeling, care fully pulled out the lowest drawer un til the surface of its contents—Mr. Williams' winter underwear—lay ex posed. Then he fumbled beneath the garments and drew forth a large ob ject, displaying it triumphantly to the satisfactorily dumfounded Penrod. It was a blue-steel Colt's revolver, of the heaviest pattern made in the seventies. Mr. Williams had inherited it from Sam's grandfather (a small man. a deacon, a dyspeptic) and it was larger and more horrible tiian any re volver either of the boys had ever seen in any picture, moving or stationary. Moreover, greenish bullets of great size were to be seen in the chambers of the cylinder, suggesting massacre rather than mere murder. This revol ver was real and It was loaded ! Both boys lived breathlessly through a magnificent moment. "Leave me have it !" gasped Penrod. "Leave me have hold of It!" "You wait a minute!" Sam protest ed. in a whisper. "I want to show you how I do." "No; you let me show you how I do !" Penrod Insisted ; and they scuffled for possession. "Look oyt !" Sam whispered warn ingly. "It might go off." "Then you better leave me have it !" And Penrod victorious and flushed, stepped back, the weapon in his grasp. "Here," he said, "this is the way I do ; You be a crook ; and suppose you got a dagger, and I—" "I don't want any dagger," Sam pro tested, advancing. "I want that re volver. It's my father's revolaver, j ain't it?" "Well, wait a minute, can't you? I got a right to show you the way I do, ; first, haven't I?" Penrod began an im- I provisntion on the spot. "Say I'm com- ; in' along after dark like this—look, ! Sara ! And say you try to make a jump at me—" "I won't !" Sam declined this role j Impatiently. "I guess it ain't your fath- ! er's revolaver, is it?" "Well, it may be your father's but j it ain't yours," Penrod argued, becom- j iug logical. "It ain't elther's of us re- j volaver, so I got as much right—" "You haven't either. It's my fath—" j "Watch, can't you—just a minute!" ! Penrod urged vehemently. "I'm not j goin' to keep It, am I? You can have it when I get through, can't you? ! Here's how I do : I'm cornin' along af ter dark, just walkin' along this way— j like this—look, Sam !" Penrod, suiting the action to the ! word, w r alked to the other end of the j room, swinging the revolver at his side with affected carelessness. "I'm just walkin' along like this, and first I don't see you," continued the ac tor. "Then I kind of get a notion sumpthing wrong's liable to happen, so I— No !" He Interrupted himself ab ruptly. "No; that isn't it. You wouldn't notice that I had my good ole revolaver with me. You wouldn't think I had one, because it'd be under my coat like this, and you wouldn't see it." Pen rod stuck the muzzle of the pistol into the waistband of his knickerbockers at the left side and, buttoning his Jack et, sustained the weapon in conceal ment by pressure of his elbow. "So you think I haven't got any ; you think I'm Just a man cornin' along, and so you—" Sam advanced. ."Well, you've had your turn," he said. "Now, It's mine. I'm goin' to show you how I—" "Watch me, can't you?" Penrod wailed. "I haven't showed you how I do, have I? My goodness! Can't you watch me a minute?" "I have been ! You said yourself It'd be my turn soon as you—" "My goodness ! Let me have a chance, can't you?" Penrod retreated to the wall, turning his right side to ward Sam and keeping the revolver still protected under his coat. "I got to have ray turn first, haven't I?" "Well, yours is over long ago." "It isn't either! I—" "Anyway," said Sam decidedly, clutching him by the right shoulder and endeavoring to reach his left side —"anyway, I'm goin' to have it now." "You said I could have my turn out !" Penrod, carried away by indig nation, raised his voice. "I did not!" Sam, likewise lost to cantion, asserted his denial loudly. "You did, too." "You said—'' "I never said anything 1" "You said— Quit that I" "Boys!" Mrs. Williams, Sam's moth er, opened the door of the room and stood upon the threshold. The scuf fling of Sam and Penrod ceased In ■ j ««Boys, you weren't quarreling, were , J J >' ou? "Ma'ant?" said Sam. "Were you quarreling with Penrod?" "No, ma'am," answered Sam in a small voice. a of it I,it "It sounded like it. Whirl was ihe matter?" Both boys returned her curious glance with meekness. They were sum moning their faculties—which were needed. Indeed, these are the crises which prepare a boy for the business difficulties of his later life. Penrod, with the huge weapon beneath his jacket. Insecurely supported by an el bow and by a waistband which he in stantly began to distrust, experienced distressful sensations similar to those of the owner of too heavily insured property carrying a gasoline can under his overcoat and detained for conver sation by a policeman. And if in the coming years, it was to be Penrod's lot to find himself in that precise situa tion, no doubt he would be the better prepared for It on account of this pres ent afternoon's experience under the scalding eye of Mrs. Williams. It should be added that Mrs. Williams' eye was awful to the imagination only. It was a gentle eye and but mildly curious, having no remote suspicion of the dreadful truth, for Sam had backed upon the chest of drawers and elosed the damnatory open one with the calves of his legs, Sam. not bearing the fatal evidence upon his person, was in a better state than Penrod, though when boys fall into the stillness now assumed by these two. It should be understood that they are suffering. Penrod, in fact, was the prey to apprehension so keen that the actual pit of his stomach was cold. ■ Being the actual custodian of the crime, he understood that his case wt' « several degrees more serious than that of Sam, who, In the event of detection, would be convicted as only an acces sory. It was a lesson, and Penrod al ready repented his selfishness in not allowing Sam to show how he did, first. "You're sure you weren't quarrel ing. Sam?" said Mrs. Williams. "No, ma'am ; we were just talking." "I'm glad you weren't quarreling," said Mrs. Williams, reassured by this reply, which though somewhat baf fling. was thoroughly familiar to her ear. "Now, if you'll come downstairs, I'll give you each one cookie and no more, so your appetites won't be spoil ed for your dinners." She stood, evidently expecting them to precede her. To linger might renew vague suspicion, causing it to become j ; I ; ! j ! j j j j ! j ! j ! j y\// / 1 1 s&i "I Can't Pull the Trigger," Said Sam Indistinctly. i i j more definite ; and boys preserve them selves from moment to moment, not of ten attempting to secure the future. Consequently, the apprehensive Sam and the unfortunate Penrod (with the monstrous Implement bulking against his ribs) walked out of the room und down the stairs, their countenances in dicating an interior condition of sol emnity. And a curious shade of be huvior might have here interested a criminologist. Penrod endeavored to keep as close to Sam as possible, like a lonely person seeking company, while, on the other hand, Sam kept moving away from Penrod, seeming to desire an appearance of aloofness. "Go into the library, boys," said Mrs. Williams, as the three reached the foot of the stairs. "I'll bring you your cookies. Papa's la there." Under her eye the two entered the library, to find Mr. Williams reading his evening paper. He looked up pleas antly, but it seemed to Penrod that he had an ominous and penetrating ex pression. "What have you been up to, you boys?" Inquired this enemy. "Nothing," said Sam. "Different things." "What likeT' "Oh—Just different things." Mr. Williams nodded ; then his glance rested casually upon Penrod. "What's the matter with your arm, Penrod T Penrod became paler, and Sam with drew from him almost conspicuously. "Sir?" "I said, What's the matter with your arm?" "Which one?" Penrod quavered. "Your left. You seem to be holding it In an unnatural position. Have you hurt It?" Penrod swallowed. "Yes, sir. A boy I,it m«—T men •' —a doc bit me.' Mr. Willi:yn* murmured sympatheti cally: "That's too bad! Where did he bite you?" "On the—right on the elbow." "Good gracious ! Perhaps you ought to have It cauterized." "Sir?" "Did you have a doctor look at it?" "No, sir. My mother put some stuff from the drug store on it." "Oh, 1 see. Probably it's all right, then." "Yes. sir." Penrod drew breath more freely, and accepted the warm cookie Mrs. Williams brought him. He ale it without relish. "Was it your own dog that bit you?" Mr. Williams inquired. "Sir? No, sir. It wasn't Duke." "Penrod!" Mrs. Williams exelaimed. "When did It happen?" "1 don't remember Just when," he answered feebly. "I guess It was day before yesterday." "Gracious ! How did it—" She was interrupted by the entrance of a middle-aged colored woman. "Miz Williams," she began, and then, as she caught sight of Penrod, she addressed him directly. "You' ma telefoam if you here, send you home right away, 'cause they waitin' dinner on you." "Run along, then," said Mrs. Wil liams, patting the visitor lightly upon his shoulder; and she accompanied him to the front door. "Tell your mother I'm so sorry about your getting bitten, and you must take good care of it, Penrod." "Yes'm." Penrod lingered helplessly outside the doorway, looking at Sam, who stood partially obscured in the hall, behind Mrs. Williams. Penrod's eyes, with n veiled anguish, conveyed a pleading for help as well as a horror of the position in which he found him self. Sam, however, pale and deter mined, seemed to hnve assumed a stony attitude of detachment, as if it were well understood between them that his own comparative innocence was established, and that whatever catastrophe ensued, Penrod had brought it on and must bear the brunt of it alone. "Well, you'd better run along, since they're waiting for you at home," said Mrs. Williams, closing the door. "Good night, Penrod." . . . Ten minutes later Penrod took his place at his own dinner-table, some what breathless but with an expression of perfect composure. "Can't you ever come home without being telephoned for?" demanded his father. "Yes, sir." Änd - Penrod added re proachfully. placing the blame upon members of Mr. Schofield's own class, "Sam's mother and father kept me, or I'd been home long ago. They would keep on talkin', and I guess I had to be polite, didn't I?" His left arm was as free as his right ; there was no dreadful bulk beneath his jacket, and at Penrod's age the fu ture Is too far away to be worried about. The difference between tempo rary security and permanent security is left for grown people. To Penrod, security was security, and before his dinner was half eaten his spirit had become fairly serene. Nevertheless, when he entered the empty carriage-house of the stable, on his return from school the next after noon, his expression was not altogether without apprehension, and he stood In the doorway looking well about him before he lifted a loosened plank In the flooring and took from beneath It the grand old weapon of the Williams family. Nor did his eye lighten with any pleasurable excitement as he sat himself down In a shadowy corner and began some sketchy experiments with the mechanism. The allure of first sight was gone. In Mr. Williams' bed chamber, with Sam clamoring for pos session, it had seemed to Penrod that nothing in the world was so desirable as to have that revolver in his own hands—It was his dream come true. But, for reasons not definitely known to him, tlie charm had departed; he turned, the cylinder gingerly, almost with distaste : and slowly there stole over him a feeling that there vas I he he something repellent nnd threatening In the heavy blue steel. Thus does the long-dreamed real misbehave—not only for Penrod ! More out of a sense of duty to bing ism in general than for any other rea son. he pointed the revolver at the lawn-mower, and gloomily murmured, "Bing !" Simultaneously, a low and cautious voice sounded from the yard outside, "Yay, Penrod!" and Sam Williams darkened the doorway, his eye falling Instantly upon the weapon in his friend's hand. Sam seemed relieved to see it. "You didn't get «aught with It, did you?" he said hastily. Penrod shook his head, rising. "I guess not ! I guess 1 got some brains around me," he added, Inspired by Sam's presence to assume a slight swagger. "They'd have to get up pret ty early to find any good ole revolaver, once I got my hands on It !" "I guess we can keep If, all right," Sam said confidentially. "Because this morning papa was putting on his win ter underclothes and he found It wasn't there, and they looked all over and ev erywhere, and he was pretty mad. and snl<l # he knew It was those cheap plumb ers stole it that mamma got Instead of the regular plumbers h«> always used to have, and he said there wasn't any chance ever gettin' It back, because you couldn't tell which one took it, nnd they'd all swear St wasn't them. So It looks like we could keep it for our revolaver, Penrod, don't it? I'll give you half of It.'' Penrod affected some enthusiasm. "Sam' we'll keep it out here in the stable." "Yes, and we'll go huntin' with It. We'll do lots of things with it !" But Sam made no effort to take it. and neither boy seemed to feel yesterday's necessity to show the other how he did. "Walt till next Fourth o' July !" Sam continued. "Oh, oh! Look out!'' This invited a genuine spark from Penrod. "Fourth o' July! I guess she'll be a little better than any firecrackers ! Just a little 'Bing! Bing! Bing!' she'll be goin'. 'Bing! Bing! Bing!'" The suggestion of noise stirred his comrade. "I'll bet she'll go off louder'n that time the gas-works blew up ! I wouldn't be afraid to shoot her off any time." "I bet you would," said Penrod. "You aren't used to revolavers the way I—" i "You aren't, either!" Sam exclaimed i promptly. "I wouldn't be any more j afraid to shoot her off thuu you would." "You would, too!" "I would not !'' "Well, let's see you then ; you talk so much !" And Penrod handed the weapon scornfully to Sam, who at 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. Botli boys turned away their heads, and Penrod put his fingers in his ears —but nothing happened. "What's the matter?" he demanded. "Why you go on if you're goin' to?" Sam lowered his arm. "I guess I didn't have her cocked," he said apolo getically, 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 per form 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 forefing ers in his ears. A pause followed. "Why'n't you go ahead?" Penrod, after waiting in keen sus pense, 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 ef forts 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 nnd unusual mildness. "You try her, then." Inwardly discomfited to a disagree able extent, Penrod attempted to talk his own misgivings out of counten ance. "Poor 'lttle baby !" he said, swinging the pistol at his side with a fair pre tense of careless ease. "Ain't even strong enough to pull a trigger! Poor 'lttle 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 going 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 direc tion 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." Well, why don't you see If I will? I bet you're afraid yourself." Oh, I am, am I?" said Penrod, in a reckless voice—and his finger touched the trigger. It seemed to him that his finger no more than touched it ; perhaps he had been reassured by Sam's asser tion that the trigger was difficult Ills don't his of at Intentions must remain in doubt, and probably Penrod himself was not cer tain of them; but one thing Jomes to the surface us entirely d«din!fe—that trigger was not so hart to pull as Sam said it wus. Bang! Wh-a-a-aok. A shattering re port split the air of the stable, and there was on orifice of remarkable di ameter In the alley door. With these phenomena, three yells, expressing ex citement of different kinds, were al most simultaneous—two from within the stable and the third from a point in the alley about eleven inches lower than the orifice Just constructed la the planking of the <ioor. This third point, roughly speaking, was the open m«»uth of a guyly dressed young color ed man whose attention, ns he strolled, had been thus violently distracted from some mental computations be was making In numbers, Including, particu larly, those symbols of ecstasy or woe, ns the case might be, seven nnd eleven. His eye at once perceived the orifice on a line enervatlngly little above the top of his head; and, although he had not supposed himself so well known in this neighborhood, he was aware that he did, here and there, possess ac quaintances of whom some such un complimentary action might he expect ed as natural and characteristic. His immediate procedure was to prostrate himself flat upon the ground, against the stable doors. In so doing, his shoulders came brusquely In contact with one of them, which hnppeued to be unfastened, and it swung open, revealing to his gaze two stark-white white boys, one of them holding an enormous pistol and both staring at him In stupor of ulti mate horror. For, to the glassy eyes of Penrod and Sam, the stratagem of the young colored man, thus dropping to earth, disclosed, with awful certain ty, a slaughtered body. *J3 This dreadful thing raised itself up on Its elbows and looked at them, and there followed a motionless moment— a tableau of brief duration, for both boys turned and would have fled, shrieking, but the body spoke: "'At's a niee business!" it said re proachfully. "Nice business! Tryin' blow a man's head off!" Penrod was unable to speak, but Sam managed to summon the tremu lous semblance of a voice. "Where—where did it hit you?" he gasped. "Nemmine anything 'bout where It hit me," the young colored man return ed, dusting Ms breast and knees as he rose. "I want to know what kine o' white boys you think you is—man can't walk 'long street 'tliout you blow in' his head off!" He entered the sta ble and. with an indignation surely justified, took the pistol from the limp, cold hand of Penrod. "Whose gun you playin' with? Where you git 'at gun?" "It's ours," quavered Sam. "It be longs to us." "Then you' pa ought to be 'rested," said the young colored man. "Lettin' boys play with gun!" He examined the revolver with nn Interest In which there began to appear symptoms of a pleasurable appreciation. "My goo' ness! Gun like 'Iss blow a team o' steers thew a brick house! Look at 'at gun !" With his right hand he twirled it in a manner most dexterous and sur prising; then suddenly he became se vere. "You white boy, listen me !" he said. "Ef I went an did what I ought to did, I'd march straight out 'iss sta ble, git a policeman, an' tell him 'rest you an' take you off to jail. 'At's what you need—blowin' man's head off ! Listen me: I'm goin' take 'iss gun an' th'ow Iter away where you can't do no mo' harm with her. I'm goin' take her way off in the woods an' th'ow her away where can't nobody fine her an' go Mowin' man's head off with her. 'At's what I'm goin' do!" And placing the revolver inside his coat as Incon spicuously ns possible, he proceeded to the open door nnd into the alley, where he turned for a final word. "I let yon off 'Iss one time," he said, "but listen me—you listen, white boy : yo bet' not tell you' pa. I nin' goin' tell him, an' you ain' goin' tell him. He want know where gun gone, you tell him yon los' her." He disappeared rapidly. Sam Williams, swallowing continu ously, presently walked to the alley door, and remarked In a weak voice, "I'm sick at my stummlck." He paused! then added more decidedly: "I'm goin' home. I guess I've stood about enough around here for one day!" And be stowing a last glance upon his friend, who was now sitting dumbly upon the floor In the exact spot where he had stood to fire the dreadful shot, Sam moved slowly away. The early shades of autumn evening were falling when Penrod emerged from the stable; and a better light might have disclosed to a shrewd eye some indications that here was a boy who had been extremely. If temporar ily, ill. He went to the cistern, and, after a cautious glance round the re cover. ■ vocal They of Penrod e slowly con nssurlng horizon, lifted! Then he took from . his Jacket an object listlessly into the wati of wood, whittled to pistol. And though h nor any sound Issued organs, yet were word* were so deep in the p< they came almost from valesclng profundities ^"hlTs'tomarh. These words concerned firearms, and they were: "Wish I'd never seen onel want to see one again 1" Of course Penrod had no way of knowing that, as regards blngisin In general, several of the most distin guished old gentlemen In Europe were at that very moment in exactly the same statu of mind. Never