me. You see, Miss Lowthry, it was nothing but the humorous prank of
some boys. This is Hallowe'en."

"Boys!" sniffed Miss Lowthry, glaring. "Humph! I think I could eat a
couple of boys, right now, if I could see them skinned alive and then
boiled."

Hoof, once he had possession of the basket, raced away as though nothing
else on earth mattered. This was good policy for, if he lingered, the
policeman might begin to ask questions.

When the door had closed and the officer was gone, Dick and his crowd
slipped out from concealment, joining Hoof and his baby brother.

"Oh, me, oh, my!" groaned Dave Darrin, stifling with laughter. "We must
play this on some more folks."

"But say," warned Dick Prescott, "don't you think that, by the time
we've played this on three or four more people, the policeman will begin
to be suspicious of Hoof's wailing accents and his great joy at finding
his kid brother?"

"Oh, we'll have to try it again, anyway," urged Tom Reade. "I know just
the people to work it on. You know Mr. and Mrs Crossleigh? They live
around on the next street. They haven't any children, and they're big
cranks."

CHAPTER XVIII

CARRYING "FUN" TO THE DANGER LIMIT

The Hallowe'eners hidden across the street, and Hoof Sadby posted up the
street, ready to come on the scene and do his part when needed, Tom
Reade and Greg Holmes crept up to the front porch of the Crossleigh
home, deposited the basket, rang and then bolted.

In a short time a dim light was visible through the stained glass of the
front door. Then that barrier itself was opened, and Mr. Crossleigh, a
man past middle age, and in dressing-gown and slippers, came out.

Seeing no one, and coming further out, Mr. Crossleigh almost kicked the
basket. But he recovered in time, and bent down.

The peepers, not far away, heard him utter an exclamation of amazement.
Then:

"Wife!" he called back into the house. "Come and see who's here!"

"Who is it?" hailed a voice from inside. "Cousin Jenny?"

"No; it isn't."

"Who? The minister?"

"No; you just come and see."

Then Mrs. Crossleigh came down the hallway and out on to the porch.

"Now, who do you think it is?" chuckled Mr. Crossleigh, lifting the
basket.

"Henry Crossleigh, where on earth----"

"Don't ask me where it came from, wife. I found it here on the stoop
when I answered the bell."

"Well of all the----" gasped the woman in wonder.

"Ain't it!" agreed her husband.

"It's--it's