ight, after the kids are in bed," Carl hastened to reply; "I
wouldn't care to have them see what I was doing, though in this case I
firmly believe it's all right."
"And if your mother wants to know, tell her," said Tom.
"I'd have to do that anyway," said Carl, without the least confusion or
hesitation; "I always tell my mother everything that happens. She takes
an interest in all my plans, and she's the dearest little mother a boy
ever had. But she'll understand that it's only meant to be a trick to
catch the thief."
"Then if you have it ready by to-morrow afternoon we might try how it
works that same evening," Tom remarked.
"I wish the time was now, I'm getting so anxious to do something,"
sighed the second boy, as he again remembered how he had seen his
mother force herself to appear cheerful when he came from school,
though there were traces of tears on her cheeks, and her eyes looked
red.
Soon after that the chums separated, as the afternoon was drawing near
a close.
"I wish you luck with your work to-night, Carl," was what Tom called
out in parting; "and if any one wants to know where we've been, be sure
and tell them that so far as we've been able to find out the fishing
promises to be mighty fine this spring, better than for years, if signs
go for anything."
On the following day at noon when they walked home for lunch Carl
showed his chum the paper. It had been carefully done, and even bore
the marks of service in the way of numerous creases, and some soiled
spots in the bargain.
Tom was loud in his praise.
"It certainly looks as if it had been carried in a boy's pocket for
some time," he declared; "and it's up to you to say how close a copy
the contents are to the original."
"I'm sure Amasa Culpepper would say it was his own crabbed handwriting
to a fraction," Carl had no hesitation in asserting. "And so far as
that goes Dock Phillips isn't capable of discovering any slight
difference. If he ever picks this up you mark my words, Tom, he's going
to get the biggest shock he's felt in many a day."
"And you can see how the very first thing he'd be apt to do would be to
look around to see if anybody was spying on him, and then hurry away to
find if his paper could have been taken from the place where he hid
it."
"Oh! I hope, Tom, he doesn't just step over it, and never bother to
pick it up."
"We've got to take our chance of that happening," he was told; "but we
know how nearly every bo
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