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terrible light seemed to play upon the day's exploits; they had chased a horse belonging tostrangers, and it would be said that they deliberately drove him into the stable and thereconcealed him. They had, in truth, virtually stolen him, and they had stolen food for him.The waning light through the small window above them warned Penrod that his inroadsupon the vegetables in his own cellar must soon be discovered. Della, thatNemesis,[43-1] would seek them in order to prepare them for dinner, and she would findthem not. But she would recall his excursion to the cellar, for she had seen him when hecame up; and also the truth would be known concerning the loaf of bread. Altogether,Penrod felt that his case was worse than Sam's—until Sam offered a suggestion whichroused such horrible possibilitites concerning the principal item of their offense that allthought of the smaller indictments disappeared."Listen, Penrod," Sam quavered: "What—what if that—what if that ole horse maybeb'longed to a—policeman!" Sam's imagination was not of the comforting kind. "What'dthey—do to us, Penrod, if it turned out he was some policeman's horse?"Penrod was able only to shake his head. He did not reply in words, but both boysthenceforth considered it almost inevitable that Whitey had belonged to a policeman, andin their sense of so ultimate a disaster, they ceased for a time to brood upon what theirparents would probably do to them. The penalty for stealing a policeman's horse wouldbe only a step short of capital, they were sure. They would not be hanged; but vague,looming sketches of something called the penitentiary began to flicker before them.