"Sure, one of the latest. I just finished it and it's a corker. I promised Joe Hykes he could take it next but you will have time to read it this afternoon and Joe is off playin' ball." Willie grabbed the book eagerly. It had an alluring cover, the design was worked out in bright red, brilliant yellow and poisonous green and it represented a man in the act of killing a young and presumably beautiful woman. It was of the dime novel variety entitled "Conclusive Evidence," just the thing to appeal to the imaginative Willie. Soon all thought of hens slipped from Willie's mind, his heart beat rapidly, he breathlessly followed the hero's thrilling adventures, he almost shed tears when the girl who had helped the hero outwit the villain was found mysteriously murdered. With keen interest he watched the authorities carry the hero to jail. He was first in the audience at the trial, he drew a long breath when only circumstantial evidence could be brought out, his heart sank when the villain rushed into the court room and cried out that he had conclusive evidence, his hopes went down, a sharp pain assailed him in the shoulder, he thought the villain had grabbed him, he jumped up and--in place of the court room, prisoner, judge, jury, witnesses, interested onlookers, etc., he saw his mother standing beside him and--horrors--a dozen or more hens blissfully digging in the loosened earth of the garden. "Where did you get that book, Willie?" "It was lent to me, ma, don't tear it ma, don't tear it, it ain't mine, ma--" "That will do, Willie, it is not fit for you or any other boy to read, now you come in the house and go to bed." "But ma, it is only four o'clock and I'm hungry and I won't let 'em in the garden again, ma, please can't I stay out here, ma?" "You do as I told you without further delay." All alone in his room, confined to his bed by the stern mandates of his mother, with everything out of doors calling him, Willie could not sleep and then when darkness fell hunger gnawed at his vitals and sleep refused to put an end to his misery. He counted to a thousand then half drifted into the land of dreams. A wicked little green imp whispered in his ear. "Conclusive Evidence," whispered it so loudly Willie awoke, then he thought, or tried to think of some plan of revenge on his heartless mother. He could think of none that would not return to himself fourfold, then he reasoned that after all it was not so much his mother's fault as the neighbors for keeping hens that would not stay at home. Perhaps the little green imp came and whispered into his ear again, I don't know, but how else account for Willie's queer actions?