an three birds with one stone did not suit
our sanguinary purpose. We disliked the widow not so much for her
sentimentality as for being the mother of Bill Conway; we disliked Mr.
Meeks, not because he was insipid, like his own syrups, but because the
widow loved him. Bill Conway we hated for himself.

Late one dark Saturday night in September we carried our plan into
effect. On the following morning, as the orderly citizens wended their
way to church past the widow's abode, their sober faces relaxed at
beholding over her front door the well known gilt Mortar and Pestle
which usually stood on the top of a pole on the opposite corner;
while the passers on that side of the street were equally amused and
scandalized at seeing a placard bearing the following announcement
tacked to the druggist's window-shutters:

Wanted, a Sempstress!

The naughty cleverness of the joke (which I should be sorry to defend)
was recognized at once. It spread like wildfire over the town, and,
though the mortar and the placard were speedily removed, our triumph
was complete. The whole community was on the broad grin, and our
participation in the affair seemingly unsuspected.

It was those wicked soldiers at the fort!

Chapter Ten--I Fight Conway

There was one person, however, who cherished a strong suspicion that the
Centipedes had had a hand in the business; and that person was Conway.
His red hair seemed to change to a livelier red, and his sallow cheeks
to a deeper sallow, as we glanced at him stealthily over the tops of our
slates the next day in school. He knew we were watching him, and made
sundry mouths and scowled in the most threatening way over his sums.

Conway had an accomplishment peculiarly his own--that of throwing his
thumbs out of joint at will. Sometimes while absorbed in study, or on
becoming nervous at recitation, he performed the feat unconsciously.
Throughout this entire morning his thumbs were observed to be in a
chronic state of dislocation, indicating great mental agitation on the
part of the owner. We fully expected an outbreak from him at recess; but
the intermission passed off tranquilly, somewhat to our disappointment.

At the close of the afternoon session it happened that Binny Wallace
and myself, having got swamped in our Latin exercise, were detained in
school for the purpose of refreshing our memories with a page of Mr.
Andrews's perplexing irregular verbs. Binny Wallace finishing his task
firs