“Mr. Baynes said that he would take me up with the horses,” said Amos.

“Ye can use shank’s horses—­ayes!—­they’re good enough for you,” Aunt Deel insisted, and so the boy went away in disgrace.

I blushed to think of the poor opinion he would have of the place now.  It seemed to me a pity that it should be made any worse, but I couldn’t help it.

“Where are your pennies?” Aunt Deel said to me.

I felt in my pockets but couldn’t find them.

“Where did ye have `em last?” my aunt demanded.

“On the haymow.”

“Come an’ show me.”

We went to the mow and search for the pennies, but not one of them could we find.

I remembered that when I saw them last Amos had them in his hand.

“I’m awful ’fraid for him—­ayes I be!” said Aunt Deel.  “I’m ’fraid Rovin’ Kate was right about him—­ayes!”

“What did she say?” I asked.

“That he was goin’ to be hung—­ayes!  You can’t play with him no more.  Boys that take what don’t belong to `em—­which I hope he didn’t—­ayes I hope it awful—­are apt to be hung by their necks until they are dead—­jest as he was goin’ to hang ol’ Shep—­ayes!—­they are!”

Again I saw the dark figure of old Kate standing in the sunlight and her ragged garments and bony hands and heard the hiss of her flying pencil point.  I clung to my aunt’s dress for a moment and then I found old Shep and sat down beside him with my arm around his neck.  I did not speak of the story because I had promised not to and felt sure that Amos would do something to me if I did.

Uncle Peabody seemed to feel very badly when he learned how Amos had turned out.

“Don’t say a word about it,” said he.  “Mebbe you lost the pennies.  Don’t mind ’em.”

Soon after that, one afternoon, Aunt Deel came down in the field where we were dragging.  While she was talking with Uncle Peabody an idea occurred to me and the dog and I ran for the house.  There was a pan of honey on the top shelf of the pantry and ever since I had seen it put there I had cherished secret designs.

I ran into the deserted house, and with the aid of a chair climbed to the first shelf and then to the next, and reached into the pan and drew out a comb of honey, and with no delay whatever it went to my mouth.  Suddenly it seemed to me that I had been hit by lightning.  It was the sting of a bee.  I felt myself going and made a wild grab and caught the edge of the pan and down we came to the floor—­the pan and I—­with a great crash.

I discovered that I was in desperate pain and trouble and I got to my feet and ran.  I didn’t know where I was going.  It seemed to me that any other place would be better than that.  My feet took me toward the barn and I crawled under it and hid there.  My lip began to feel better, by and by, but big and queer.  It stuck out so that I could see it.  I heard my uncle coming with the horses.  I concluded that I would stay where I was, but the dog came and sniffed and barked at the hole through which I had crawled as if saying, “Here he is!” My position was untenable.  I came out.  Shep began trying to clean my clothes with his tongue.  Uncle Peabody stood near with the horses.  He looked at me.  He stuck his finger into the honey on my coat and smelt it.