stabbed a man with a pitchfork, I guess, didn't he?"
"How do I know?"
"Well, I guess he's in jail, ain't he?"
"Well, what if their father is in jail? I didn't say he wasn't, did I?"
"Well, your father ain't in jail, is he?"
"Well, I never said he was, did I?"
"Well, then," continued Penrod, "how could you be a" He stopped abruptly, staring at Roderick, the birth of an idea plainly visible in his altered expression. He had suddenly remembered his intention to ask Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, about Rena Magsworth, and this recollection collided in his mind with the irritation produced by Roderick's claiming some mysterious attainment which would warrant his setting up as a show in his single person. Penrod's whole manner changed instantly.
"Roddy," he asked, almost overwhelmed by a prescience of something vast and magnificent, "Roddy, are you any relation of Rena Magsworth?"
Roderick had never heard of Rena Magsworth, although a concentration of the sentence yesterday pronounced upon her had burned, black and horrific, upon the face of every newspaper in the country.
