nterest. "That's so," she said. "And the
wires on the fence are awfully loose."

Carol gazed down into the yard where Constance was absorbed in her
book. "Constance oughtn't to read as much as she does," she argued.
"It's so bad for the eyes."

"Yes, and what's more, she's been getting off too easy the last few
days. The time is nearly up."

"That's so," said Lark. "Let's call her up here." This was done at
once, and the unfortunate Constance walked reluctantly toward the barn,
her fascinating story still in her hand.

"You see, they've got more apples than they need, and those on the
ground are just going to waste," continued Carol, pending the arrival
of the little pledge. "The chickens are pecking at them, and ruining
them."

"It's criminal destruction, that's what it is," declared Lark.

Connie stood before them respectfully, as they had instructed her to
stand. The twins hesitated, each secretly hoping the other would voice
the order. But Lark as usual was obliged to be the spokesman.

"Damsel," she said, "it is the will of Skull and Crossbones that you
hie ye to yonder orchard,--Avery's, I mean,--and bring hither some of
the golden apples basking in the sun."

"What!" ejaculated Connie, startled out of her respect.

Carol frowned.

Connie hastened to modify her tone. "Did they say you might have
them?" she inquired politely.

"That concerns thee not, 'tis for thee only to render obedience to the
orders of the Society. Go out through our field and sneak under the
fence where the wires are loose, and hurry back. We're awfully hungry.
The trees are near the fence. There isn't any danger."

"But it's stealing," objected Connie. "What will Prudence----"

"Damsel!" And Connie turned to obey with despair in her heart.

"Bring twelve," Carol called after her, "that'll be four apiece. And
hurry, Connie. And see they don't catch you while you're about it."

After she had gone, the twins lay back thoughtfully on the hay and
stared at the cobwebby roof above them.

"It's a good thing Prudence and Fairy are downtown," said Lark sagely.

"Yes, or we'd catch it," assented Carol. "But I don't see why! The
Averys have too many apples, and they are going to waste. I'm sure
Mrs. Avery would rather let us have them than the chickens."

They lay in silence for a while. Something was hurting them, but
whether it was their fear of the wrath of Prudence, or the twinges of
tender consciences,--wh