"No; you're wrong," Mrs. Schofield said, upholding a theory,
earlier developed by Margaret, that the animated behaviour of the
cape could be satisfactorily explained on no other ground than
the supernatural. "You see, the boys saying they couldn't
remember what Mrs. Williams wanted them to tell Margaret, and
that probably she hadn't told them anything to tell her, because
most likely they'd misunderstood something she said--well, of
course, all that does sound mixed-up and peculiar; but they sound
that way about half the time, anyhow. No; it couldn't possibly
have had a thing to do with it. They were right there at the
table with us all the time, and they came straight to the table
the minute they entered the house. Before that, they'd been over
at Sam's all afternoon. So, it COULDN'T have been the boys." Mrs.
Schofield paused to ruminate with a little air of pride; then
added: "Margaret has often thought--oh, long before this!--that
she was a medium. I mean--if she would let her self. So it wasn't
anything the boys did."

Mr. Schofield grunted.

"I'll admit this much," he said. "I'll admit it wasn't anything
we'll ever get out of 'em."

And the remarks of Sam and Penrod, taking leave of each other,
one on each side of the gate, appeared to corroborate Mr.
Schofield's opinion.

"Well, g'-night, Penrod," Sam said. "It was a pretty good
Saturday, wasn't it?"