to give the whole show
away!" cried Jack in indignant schoolboy fashion. "Now don't talk so
much, but creep between these bushes when nobody is passing. There's
room for us both, and I can get a pull at the string between these
branches. We'll have a rehearsal now, and see how it works." He
crawled forward on the dank earth, in easy unconcern for the knees of
his trousers, dropped the daintily-wrapped parcel on to the centre of
the pavement, and crept back to his place, holding in his hand the end
of a long black thread.

They crouched together behind the bushes, as mischievous a Jack and Jill
as have been known since the world began, giggling with anticipated
glee, nudging each other violently at the sound of approaching
footsteps, and peering eagerly through their loopholes to see what
manner of prey was about to fall into their hands.

First, a fine lady walking gingerly along, both hands occupied in
keeping her skirt from contact with the greasy pavement. She looked at
the parcel with blank indifference, and passed quietly on her way. The
twins gasped with stupefaction. Could such things be? Was it possible
that a human creature could be so surfeited with the good things of this
world, that she could behold an unopened parcel lying on the ground, and
feel no curiosity to discover what was inside? Imagination refused to
picture such a position!

"Mad!" was Jack's scornful explanation. "Mad as a March hare! Ought to
be shut up out of the way. Walked straight over the string too. Hope
to goodness she hasn't broken it!"

A flick to the end of the string proved that this fear was unfounded,
and the twins composed themselves for another period of waiting.
Pedestrians seemed to prefer the pavement by the houses instead of that
darker one overshadowed by the trees of the gardens, and several moments
elapsed before a brisk footstep announced the approach of a tall, well
set-up man clad in a light overcoat. His eye lit on the parcel, he bent
his head and stretched out a hand to raise it up. Instantly Jack gave a
flick to the string, to which the parcel responded by jumping an inch or
two farther along the pavement. The brown-coated man straightened
himself, gave a funny little grunt, half amused, half-angry, and strode
on his way. He had been a boy himself!

The next victim was an old woman carrying a pile of parcels, and
breathing heavily from fatigue, but although over-laden, she was
evidently nothing