Great-uncle Slocum's hat lay upon the ground close by, and Penrod was in the state of irritation that seeks an outlet too blindly--as people say, he "HAD to do SOMETHING!" He kicked great-uncle Slocum's hat with such sweep and precision that it rose swiftly, and, breasting the autumn breeze, passed over the fence and out into the street.
Great-uncle Slocum uttered a scream of anguish, and, immediately ceasing to peacemake, ran forth to a more important rescue; but the conflict was not renewed.

Sanity had returned to Sam Williams; he was awed by this colossal deed of Penrod's and filled with horror at the thaught that he might be held as accessory to it.

Fleetly he fled, pursued as far as the gate by the whole body of Penrod, and thereafter by Penrod's voice alone.
"You BETTER run! You wait till I catch you! You'll see what you get next time! Don't you ever speak to me again as long as you--" Here he paused abruptly, for great-uncle Slocum had recovered his hat and was returning toward the gate.

After one glance at great-uncle Slocum, Penrod did not linger to attempt any explanation--there are times when even a boy can see that apologies would seem out of place.
Penrod ran round the house to the backyard.
Here he was enthusiastically greeted by Duke.

"You get away from me!" Penrod said hoarsely, and with terrible gestures he repulsed the faithful animal, who retired philosophically to the stable, while his master let himself out of the back gate.