“No, sir,” replied Brother more meekly.

“But did you play with the tar?” asked Mother Morrison.  “Mr. Dougherty told us there were roofers mending the Gillson houses today, and using hot tar.”

“Yes, they gave us some,” said Brother honestly enough.  “Didn’t they, Betty?  All the children had some, and we went by Miss Putnam’s house and she yelled at us.”

“But we didn’t stop,” added Sister.  “We went right on and came home, didn’t we, Roddy?”

“Yes,” nodded Brother.  “And that was before lunch, Daddy.”

Daddy Morrison looked troubled.

“If you say you did not throw the tar, I believe you,” he said gravely.  “You may get into mischief and do wrong things, but I am sure you do not tell wrong stories.  I don’t see how Miss Putnam can be positive enough to give your names to the police, but I am going around to see her now and hear what she has to say.  Then I’ll stop in at the town hall and see the chief of police.”

The telephone rang just then, and he went downstairs.  It was only half-past seven, but Mother Morrison insisted that it was time for them to get ready for bed.

“Your father doesn’t want you to speak of the tar to any of your playmates,” she said as she brushed Sister’s hair.  “You must be very careful and not say a word against Miss Putnam.  People may make mistakes easily, and we’ll try to think as kindly of her as we can.  Poor old lady!  She must be terribly tormented by the children to dislike them so.”

“I wish,” wept Sister over her sandals as she unbuckled them, “I wish I hadn’t smashed Jimmie’s butterflies.  Now he’s mad at me.”

“Well, you know he has asked you not to play in the barn when he isn’t there to watch you,” suggested Mother Morrison mildly.  “However, you can make it up with Jimmie tomorrow; he never holds a grudge.”

“Weed the onions for him,” advised Brother wisely if sleepily.  “He hates weeding.”

“Maybe I will,” decided Sister.  “Daddy said tonight he couldn’t go swimming again until he had worked in the garden.”

CHAPTER XVII

MAKING UP WITH JIMMIE

Daddy Morrison went to see Miss Putnam after the children had gone to bed.  The old lady was very sure that Brother and Sister had thrown the tar and she was so positive in her assertions that finally he asked her how she could be so sure.

“Well, one of the neighbors told me,” Miss Putnam said reluctantly.  “No, I don’t know your children from any of the others, but she does.  All children look pretty much alike to me—­ noisy, scuffling young ones!  No, I couldn’t tell you the neighbor’s name—­I wouldn’t want to get her into any trouble.”

When Daddy Morrison went away, she showed him the tar on her porch and sidewalk.

“Somebody ought to be made to clear it off,” said Miss Putnam severely.

The chief of police, at the town hall, was a little angry that a complaint had been made merely on the word of a neighbor, who might easily be mistaken about the children she had seen throwing tar.  However, as Brother and Sister said they had nothing to do with it, and Miss Putnam refused to believe them, there was nothing to do but let the complaint stand.