It was Penrod who answered.
"Drinkin' lickrish water," he said simply, and wiped his mouth with such delicious enjoyment that Sam's jaded thirst was instantly stimulated. He took the bottle eagerly from Penrod.
"A-a-h!" exclaimed Penrod, smacking his lips. "That was a good un!"
The eyes above the fence glistened.
"Ask him if he don't want some," Penrod whispered urgently. "Quit drinkin' it! It's no good any more. Ask him!"
"What for?" demanded the practical Sam.
"Go on and ask him!" whispered Penrod fiercely.
"Say, M'rice!" Sam called, waving the bottle. "Want some?"
"Bring it here!" Mr. Levy requested.
"Come on over and get some," returned Sam, being prompted.
"I can't. Penrod Schofield's after me."
"No, I'm not," said Penrod reassuringly. "I won't touch you, M'rice. I made up with you yesterday afternoon—don't you remember? You're all right with me, M'rice."
Maurice looked undecided. But Penrod had the delectable bottle again, and tilting it above his lips,
