Mr. Abernathy, who was new to the town, nodded, as though this piece of information had suddenly confirmed all of his suspicions. Upon hearing its name spoken, the dog shuffled its bottom on Mr. Abernathy’s porch and gave a bow. Mr. Abernathy regarded it suspiciously.

“Your shoes don’t match,” said Mr. Abernathy to Samuel.

“I know. I couldn’t decide which pair to wear, so I wore one of each.”

Mr. Abernathy raised an eyebrow. He didn’t trust people, especially children, who displayed signs of individuality.

“So,” said Samuel. “Trick or treat?”

“Neither,” said Mr. Abernathy.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not Halloween yet, that’s why not.”

“But I was showing initiative.” Samuel’s teacher, Mr. Hume, often spoke about the importance of showing initiative, although anytime Samuel showed initiative, Mr. Hume seemed to disapprove of it, which Samuel found very puzzling.

“No, you weren’t,” said Mr. Abernathy. “You’re just too early. It’s not the same thing.”

“Oh, please. A chocolate bar?”

“No.”

“Not even an apple?”

“No.”

“I can come back tomorrow, if that helps.”

“No! Go away.”

With that, Mr. Abernathy slammed the front door, leaving Samuel and Boswell to stare at the flaking paintwork. Samuel let the sheet drop down once more, restoring himself to ghostliness, and replaced his glasses. He looked down at Boswell. Boswell looked up at him. Samuel shook the bucket sadly.

“It seemed like a good idea,” he said to Boswell. “I thought people might like an early fright.”

Boswell sighed in response, as if to say, “I told you so.”

Samuel gave one final, hopeful glance at Mr. Abernathy’s front door, willing him to change his mind and appear with something for the bucket, even if it was just a single, solitary nut, but the door remained firmly closed.