It's Penrod." "I don't care," she began pettishly, when the viperish voice was again lifted: "Oh, oh, oh! Who's your beau?
Guess _I_ know: Mabel and Sammy, oh, oh, oh! _I_ caught you!" Then Mabel did one of those things that eternally perplex the slower sex.

She deliberately made a face, not at the tree behind which Penrod was lurking, but at the innocent and heart-wrung Sam.

"You needn't come limpin' after me, Sam Williams!" she said, though Sam was approaching upon two perfectly sound legs.

And then she ran away at the top of her speed.
"Run, rigger, run!" Penrod began inexcusably.

But Sam cut the persecutions short at this point.