Rags's back, laughing hilariously as he did so. But Renny came back frowning. "He ought to be thrashed," he said, sternly. "It's just as Rags says—he's always after him." He peered down the dim stairway at the Whiteoak butler gathering up the débris.
"I'll stand him on his head," said Piers.
"No—don't do that. It's bad for his heart."
But Piers had already done it, and the packet of gum had fallen from Wakefield's pocket.
"Put him on his feet," ordered Renny. "Here, what's this?" And he picked up the pink packet.
Wake hung a bewildered, buzzing head. "It's g-gum," he said faintly. "Mrs. Brawn gave it to me. I didn't like to offend her by saying I wasn't allowed to chew it. I thought it was better not to offend her, seeing that I owe her a little bill. But you'll notice, Renny,"—he raised his large eyes pathetically to his brother's face,—"you'll notice it's never been opened."
"Well, I'll let you off this time." Renny threw the packet down the stairs after Rags. "Here, Rags, throw this out!"
Rags examined it, then his voice came unctuously up the stairway: "Ow, naow, Mr. W'iteoak, I'll give it to the missus. I see it's flivored with vaniller. 'Er fivorite flivor. It'll do 'er a world of good to chew this when one of 'er spells comes on."
Renny turned to Wakefield. "How much do you owe Mrs. Brawn?"
"I think it's eighteen cents, Renny. Unless you think I ought to pay for the gum. In that case it would be twenty-three."
Renny took out a handful of silver and picked out a quarter. "Now take this and pay Mrs. Brawn, and don't run into debt again."
Grandmother had by this time reached the door of her
