a moment, however, after this brave speech,
and soon the farmer suggested that they had said enough for the present,
and might as well move on. They rose to leave their retreat, and Jimmy
made himself as small as possible back of the stump. As he was on the
other side of the brook from the men, they passed by without seeing him,
and were presently lost to his view.

Then Jimmy rose to his feet, shook himself, looked around, and gave vent
to his feelings by a long whistle and the exclamation, "Jiminy Chrismus,
if I could only--"

He stopped short, seeming to remember that "discretion is the better
part of valor," and that some one might be listening to hear what _he_
was going to say. So he only walked away very slowly, almost forgetting
to pick up his fishing-tackle in his absorption. On arriving home he
laid his rod on the front porch, and without lingering a moment, dashed
across the lawn, got through a hole in the fence, and then raced across
lots to the village store. He encountered his bosom friend Will Smythe
in front of his father's establishment, and greeted him excitedly.

"Hullo, Bill! I've got something to tell you. Quick! Come over to the
orchard; I can't wait a minute."

Full of curiosity Bill followed Jimmy's lead, and they were soon in
their favorite haunt, an old apple-tree.

"Now," said Jiminy, "wait till you hear what I have to tell you. Whew!
It's immense!"

Billy was breathless with interest, and Jim unfolded the plot he had
heard. Will became as excited as his friend could wish, and exclaimed:

"The scoundrels! Can't we head them off?"

"If we could only hit on something without letting any one know. That
miserly Bagstock! Father always said he wouldn't trust him with a dime,
and Hoke Simpkins would do anything Bagstock told him to. He's a coward,
anyway."

Billy was lost, in thought. Suddenly he exclaimed: "Hurrah! I have it.
Just the thing." In his eagerness he nearly fell out of the tree. When
he had managed to tell his plan it met with tremendous applause from
Jimmy. What came of Will's bold inspiration remains to be seen.

III.

Monday evening was moonless, just the night for a reckless deed. The
conspirators thought that they were especially favored. By nine both
were at the meeting-place, and repaired in silence to the old house. The
night was one of the kind that ghosts usually select for a promenade,
and this thought may have occurred to the minds of the farmer and Hoke.
Ea