by an unseen agency--a can half filled with old paint.

It caught the small besieger of the door on his thoroughly surprised
right ear, encouraged him to some remarkable acrobatics, and turned
large portions of him a dull blue. Allowing only a moment to perplexity,
and deciding, after a single and evidently unappetizing experiment,
not to cleanse himself of paint, the loyal animal resumed his quaint,
upright posture.

Mr. Schofield seated himself on the window-sill, whence he could keep in
view that pathetic picture of unrequited love.

"Go on with your story, mamma," he said. "I think I can find Penrod when
we want him."

And a few minutes later he added, "And I think I know the place to do it
in."

Again the faithful voice of Duke was heard, pleading outside the bolted
door.



CHAPTER XII MISS RENNSDALE ACCEPTS

"One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!" said Professor Bartet,
emphasizing his instructions by a brisk collision of his palms at
"glide." "One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!"

The school week was over, at last, but Penrod's troubles were not.