We all went into Maidstone, and came back with the most beautiful lot of brown-paper parcels, with things inside that supplied long-felt wants.
But none of them belongs to this narration, except what Oswald and Denny clubbed to buy.
This was a pistol, and it took all the money they both had, but when Oswald felt the uncomfortable inside sensation that reminds you who it is and his money that are soon parted he said to himself-- 'I don't care.

We ought to have a pistol in the house, and one that will go off, too--not those rotten flintlocks.

Suppose there should be burglars and us totally unarmed ?' We took it in turns to have the pistol, and we decided always to practise with it far from the house, so as not to frighten the grown-ups, who are always much nervouser about firearms than we are.
It was Denny's idea getting it; and Oswald owns it surprised him, but the boy was much changed in his character.

We got it while the others were grubbing at the pastry-cook's in the High Street, and we said nothing till after tea, though it was hard not to fire at the birds on the telegraph wires as we came home in the train.
After tea we called a council in the straw-loft, and Oswald said-- 'Denny and I have got a secret.' 'I know what it is,' Dicky said contemptibly.

'You've found out that shop in Maidstone where peppermint rock is four ounces a penny.