"It wasn't locked,
Daddy."
"And then you broke Jimmie's case of butterflies," said Daddy.
"What did you do then?"
"We swept the glass under a pad," said Sister, finding her voice.
"Did Jimmie tell Mr. Dougherty?"
"Jimmie didn't know, and he certainly would not tell the police,"
declared Daddy Morrison, smiling a little in spite of his evident
anxiety. "Miss Putnam, children, has made a complaint to the
police that you tracked fresh tar over her porch and sidewalk, and
she wants you to clean it off. That was why Mr. Dougherty came
tonight."
"We won't either clean it off!" cried Brother angrily. "Serve her
right to clean it off herself; mean old thing!"
"Don't let me hear you talk like that again," said Daddy Morrison
sternly. "Did either of you have anything to do with putting tar
on her porch or walk?"
"No, sir," replied Brother more meekly.
"But did you PLAY with the tar?" asked Mother Morrison. "Mr.
Dougherty told us there were roofers mending the Gillson houses
today, and using hot tar."
"Yes, they gave us some," said Brother honestly enough. "Didn't
they, Betty? All the children had some, and we went by Miss
Putnam's house and she yelled at us."
"But we didn't stop," added Sister.
Pages:
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90