"Grab that thing!" he shouted, dashing forward. "Stop it! Hit
it!"

It was at this moment that Sam Williams displayed the presence of
mind that was his most eminent characteristic. Sam's wonderful
instinct for the right action almost never failed him in a
crisis, and it did not fail him now. Leaping to the door, at the
very instant when the rolling cape touched it, Sam flung the door
open--and the cape rolled on. With incredible rapidity and
intelligence, it rolled, indeed, out into the night.

Penrod jumped after it, and the next second reappeared in the
doorway holding the cape. He shook out its folds, breathing hard
but acquiring confidence. In fact, he was able to look up in his
father's face and say, with bright ingenuousness:

"It was just laying there. Do you know what I think? Well, it
couldn't have acted that way itself. I think there must have been
sumpthing kind of inside of it!"

Mr. Schofield shook his head slowly, in marvelling admiration.

"Brilliant--oh, brilliant!" he murmured, while Mrs. Schofield ran
to support the enfeebled form of Margaret at the top of the
stairs.

. . . In the library, after Margaret's departure to her dance,
Mr. and Mrs. Schofield were still discussing the visitation,
Penrod having accompanied his homeward-bound guest as far as the
front gate.