en set on fire by
smokers using matches in the hay. Tramps are responsible for a heap of
this waste; and I don't blame any farmer for asking such a question.
I'm glad we could tell him none of us had taken to the habit as yet."

"Or if they had they'd reformed!" chuckled Lil Artha, meaning himself.

"One thing sure," observed Mark, "if we hear that barrel crashing down
the hill with all those stones inside it, we ought to be pretty spry
getting out there, because a poor wretch might get dizzy hanging with
his head down."

"What if nobody happened to hear the alarm," suggested Landy, who had a
tender heart even when chicken thieves were concerned.

"I take it suh, that would be a bad thing fo' the coon that set the
trap off," Chatz announced, gravely.

"Oh! Johnny has prepared for even that," said Elmer. "He showed me
how he had fixed another cord that runs all the way to his room in the
house. When the barrel starts to rolling that cord will be snapped,
causing a weight to fall on the floor close to his bed, and bound to
waken anybody but the dead."

"Say, that Johnny's a sure-enough wonder!" declared Toby; "he's got the
inventive genius developed to beat the band. I'd like to see more of
Johnny Spreen. Who knows but that we might hitch together and make a
team. I've done a few little wrinkles along the line of invention
myself, you remember. Jones and Spreen wouldn't sound bad."

Of course, that brought about a stirring up of old history, for many
and humorous had been Toby's attempt to construct a flying machine, and
also a parachute that would save the lives of daring aeronauts when
their engines gave out a mile or two up in the air.

Finally, the boys began to talk less, and it could be easily seen that
they were getting sleepy. Elmer really encouraged them to quit their
efforts to keep awake. He himself felt that sleep would be welcome
just then; and when that humor seizes a fellow he dislikes being kept
awake against his will by the chattering of a comrade who does not know
what a bed is meant for.

Then the last word was mumbled, and stentorian breathing here and there
in those hay nests announced that the tired scouts had surrendered to
the sleep god. Elmer was, perhaps, the last to drop off, for he had
been thinking of a lot of things, running from the chicken-thief trap
to the strange conduct of Hen Condit in robbing his guardian, and then
leaving that ridiculous note to condemn himself.