women left the house. Moodily, after they were gone, he ate almond cake and swallowed lemonade.
"Bert," his mother asked, as the third slice disappeared, "where do you put it all? You'll be so stuffed that you'll have to swallow your supper with the aid of a shoehorn."
Nevertheless, he did ample justice to the evening meal. After his father had gone back to the store he climbed the stairs to his room, took down the accordion, and played it aimlessly with one ear cocked to catch the chime of the parlor clock downstairs. Presently the gong sounded half-past seven, and he put the accordion away.
"I'm going out, Mom," he called.
"Be in by nine," his mother called from the kitchen.
"Yes'm." Out on the porch he adjusted his cap; his hands were cold. And then he saw his father coming hurriedly down the street. One look at his father's face and he was seized with forebodings.
"Where are you going?" Mr. Quinby demanded.
"Out," Bert answered vaguely.
"Out where?"
"With the fellows."
"With the same fellows, I guess, that Officer Glynn saw you with last night. Were you going to the railroad yards? I thought so. Well,
