t. I don't know and I don't care.
What I want is, to get it down. You needn't say you didn't do it,
because I wouldn't believe any of you boys, anyway. But I'm going to do
the right thing." The colonel hesitated a moment. "I'm going to be
handsome about it. You get that down and I'll give you a
quarter--twenty-five cents, do you hear?"

Little Tim nodded.

"Well," Colonel Witham went on, "you give me that fish-pole. I'm not
going to have you cut and run. I'm too smart for that."

So saying, the colonel seized the boy's fish-pole, and relinquished his
grasp of his wrist.

"Reckon you won't run away long as I've got this," he said. "Now can you
shin that pole?"

"Sure," replied Tim. He glanced up at the lofty peak of the flag-staff,
then began removing his shoes and stockings. He was up the pole the next
moment like a squirrel, clinging fast with arms and bare toes. Half-way
up he rested, by clutching the halyard and twisting it about his arm.

"Little monkey!" ejaculated Colonel Witham; "I'd give a dollar to know
if he put it up there. Well, reckon I've got to give him that quarter,
though, as long as I said I would."

Tim did the topmost length of the pole cautiously. It was a high one,
with a slim topmast spliced on with iron bands. He knew how to climb
this like a sailor; careful to hold himself close in to the slender
stick, and not throw his weight out, so as to put a strain on it that
might cause it to snap and let him fall; careful not to get it to
swaying.

Then, almost at the very top, he rested again for a moment, sustaining
part of his weight by the halyards, as before. When he had got his
breath, he drew himself up close to where the big pumpkin hung, on the
opposite side; dug his toes in hard, and held on with them and one hand.
He reached his other hand into a trousers' pocket, and drew forth a
knife that he had opened before he began the ascent.

Holding fast to the pole, he cut the rope that held the pumpkin. It
fell, grazing one of his knees, and would have dislodged him had he not
guarded against it. The next moment, it landed with a crash at the base
and was shattered into fragments.

Little Tim laboriously loosened the knot Harvey had tied, and let the
halyard run free. A moment more, and he was on the ground with Colonel
Witham.

The colonel eyed the wreck of the hobgoblin with satisfaction. Then he
turned to Tim.

"You're a smart little rascal," he said, "and a plucky one. I'll say