As regards the matter of distance, it took an easy two minutes to cover the space between the front doors of the two houses, and there seemed an endless number of reasons why the members of the different families should fly round to consult each other a dozen times a day. Darsie and Lavender, Vie and plain Hannah attended the same High School; the Garnett boys and John Vernon the same Royal Institute, but the fact that they walked to and from school together, and spent the intervening hours in the same class-rooms, by no means mitigated the necessity of meeting again during luncheon and tea hours. In holiday times the necessity naturally increased, and bells pealed incessantly in response to tugs from youthful hands. Then came the time of the great servants' strike. That bell was a perfect nuisance; ring, ring, ring the whole day long. Something else to do than run about to open the door for a pack of children! The two mistresses, thus coerced, issued a fiat. Once a day, and no oftener! All arrangements for the afternoon to be made in the morning _seance_, the rendezvous to be _outside_, not _inside_ the house. After this came on the age of signals; whistlings outside the windows, rattling of the railings, comes through letter-boxes and ventilation grids, even--on occasions of special deafness--pebbles thrown against the panes! A broken window, and a succession of whoops making the air hideous during the progress of an extra special tea party, evoked the displeasure of the mistresses in turns, and a second verdict went forth against signals in all forms, whereupon the Garnetts and Vernons in conclave deplored the hard-heartedness of grown-ups, and set their wits to work to evolve a fresh means of communication. "S'pose," said Russell, snoring thoughtfully, "s'pose we had a telegraph!" "S'pose we had an airship! One's just as easy as the other. Don't be a juggins." But Russell snored on unperturbed. "I don't mean a _real_ telegraph, only a sort--of _pretend_! There's our side window, and your back windows. If we could run a line across." "A line of _what_?" "String. Wire. Anything we like." "S'pose we _did_ fix it, what then?" "Send messages!" "How?" Russell pondered deeply. He was the member of the family who had a natural aptitude for mechanism; the one who mended toys, and on occasion was even consulted about mother's sewing-machine and escapes of gas, therefore he filled the place of engineer-royal and was expected to take all structural difficulties upon his own shoulders. He pondered, blinking his pale blue eyes. "Can't send messages in the usual way--too difficult. If the cord were double, we might have a bag and switch it across."