ing in the direction of the partly open window. It seemed to be a
long cane fishing rod, that had a dark colored lump at the end of it.

The rod continued to advance slowly into the den. It was, of course, in
the hands of some one perched in the window of the attic belonging to the
empty house so close by; and Jack could easily guess now who that person
must be.

Scissors Dempsey, once his friend, but latterly a crony of Ted Slavin!

Now the end of the rod seemed to hover above the little box containing
all that were left of Jack's old coins. And even as he and Paul looked
they saw it descend until the light box was tilted partly over, when the
point of the long rod was pushed into it vigorously. Jack was reminded
somewhat of a human hand groping about. And then, as the fishing pole was
rapidly withdrawn, he saw one of his few remaining old coins sticking to
the black lump at its terminus!

The game was now clear. Scissors, inspired by a love of fun, or a desire
to mystify Jack, perhaps make him suspect that one of his chums was
taking the coins, had come every day into this empty house belonging to
his father. Whenever he found the window in Jack's den open he amused
himself with this strange fishing.

Paul beckoned to his chum, and then silently crept out of the den, which
he was easily enabled to do, thanks to the screen he had placed to cover
the open door.

Once down on the next landing Jack clutched his sleeve.

"Well, would you dream of such a thing as that?" exclaimed the latter,
nearly ready to explode with laughter, yet feeling a bit angry at the
same time. "What under the sun d'ye suppose he's doing such a stunt for,
Paul?"

"We'd better put it up to Scissors," replied the other, quickly.

"Then you suggest waiting for him as he comes out, and telling him we
know all about his fishing for my coins?" asked Jack.

"Come along. He might be satisfied with just one to-day. You see it's
getting harder, with so few left in the box," and Paul led the way
downstairs again.

"But what's he got on the end of that pole?" demanded his chum.

"I think it must be a lump of rather soft tar, or pitch," came Paul's
answer, readily enough. "I found a little on one of the coins left the
last time we examined them; and you said that the fourth stuck to the
side of the box. Yes, that's what it is. Now, let's wait over by the
front door, for that's the way he goes in."

Five minutes later the front door of the empty