Maurice drank it all! He drained the last drop and threw the bottle in
the air, uttering loud ejaculations of triumph and satisfaction.
"Hah!" he cried, blowing out his cheeks, inflating his chest, squaring
his shoulders, patting his stomach, and wiping his mouth contentedly.
"Hah! Aha! Waha! Wafwah! But that was good!"
The two boys stood looking at him in stupor.
"Well, I gotta say this," said Maurice graciously: "You stuck to your
bargain all right and treated me fair."
Stricken with a sudden horrible suspicion, Penrod entered the storeroom
in one stride and lifted the bottle of licorice water to his nose--then
to his lips. It was weak, but good; he had made no mistake. And Maurice
had really drained--to the dregs--the bottle of old hair tonics, dead
catsups, syrups of undesirable preserves, condemned extracts of
vanilla and lemon, decayed chocolate, ex-essence of beef, mixed dental
preparations, aromatic spirits of ammonia, spirits of nitre, alcohol,
arnica, quinine, ipecac, sal volatile, nux vomica and licorice water--
with traces of arsenic, belladonna and strychnine.
Penrod put the licorice water out of sight and turned to face the
others. Maurice was seating himself on a box just outside the door and
had taken a package of cigarettes from his pocket.
"Nobody can see me from here, can they?" he said, striking a match. "You
fellers smoke?"
"No," said Sam, staring at him haggardly.
"No," said Penrod in a whisper.
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