were now drawing near the old stone building
that had sheltered the leading congregation of Stanhope since before the
Civil War.

Paul had been observing things as he came along. First of all he noted
that it was not as dark a night as when the bell of the church had been
suddenly tolled. A young moon hung tremblingly in the western sky,
promising to increase steadily in size, and give them more than one
brilliant night while on their big excursion. Besides, an electric
street light was in full force that had been out of business the other
night.

He also noted the lay of the land near the church. This was familiar to
him, as he had played around this spot, off and on, for years. Paul knew
just where every tree reared its leafy branches, and could easily in his
mind plan a mode of approaching the rear of the building without once
leaving the shelter of the shadows.

So they stalked along, and were soon hugging the stone walls. Thus far
all seemed quiet and peaceful. If any of the Slavin crowd were in the
near vicinity they must be keeping under cover.

A pinch on his arm told Paul that Jack, with his keen eyes, had
discovered something he deemed suspicious.

"Where?" he managed faintly to whisper in the ear of his chum.

"Ahead, by the sun dial," came in reply.

Paul remembered that something had happened to the old fashioned
sun-dial that used to stand in the cemetery connected with the church;
and that it had been placed up against the wall of the building. He
knew, because he had once fallen over it in the darkness.

Looking closely he could just make out some object seemingly perched on
the stone that offered a seat to the weary one.

It might be Bobolink, and then again there was always a possibility that
the figure would prove to be that of an enemy on the watch.

Paul had instituted a system of signals whereby two scouts of the
Stanhope troop could communicate, should they happen to draw near one
another in the dark, and wish to unite forces.

Accordingly he now took a little piece of wood out of his pocket, also a
steel nail, and with the latter tapped several times upon the bit of
veneering. Immediately they saw the sitting boy begin to fumble, as
though he might be getting something out of his pocket. Then came an
answering series of staccato taps, soft yet clear.

"O. K."

"Number Three," whispered Paul, gently.

"I'm your candy!" came the reply, as the figure stood up at attention.

"Anyt