Then followed a lot of the usual elaborate nonsense such as boys delight to invent and execute in connection with their secret societies; and at the end of fifteen minutes or so, Charlie, flushed and excited, but triumphant, was handed a gown and mask, and informed by the figure on the throne, whose official title was the same as the signature to the invitation, that he was duly admitted into the membership of the society, whose full name he now learned was The Ancient and Honourable Order of Apple Stealers. The next piece of information he received rather staggered him. It was that, according to the rules of the society, he must at once justify the confidence its members had reposed in him by proving his prowess as an apple-stealer. The August pippins in Squire Ribston’s orchard were reported to be ready to drop into one’s mouth. Upon the novice, Charles Draper, devolved the perilous duty of securing a generous sample of those juicy golden globes, so that the ancient and honourable order might pronounce judgment on their excellence. So soon as he understood this, Charlie began to wish he had not been in such a hurry to join the society. He had been at Twin Elm long enough to learn that old Squire Ribston’s dogs were as good in their way as his apples were in theirs, and he did not at all relish the prospect of having an argument with them in their own territory at the dead of night. But he was too stout of heart to back out, or even to show any signs of flinching, as his sublimity proceeded to give him his instructions. Each member had brought a sheet with him. These were quickly converted into a rope, which reached from the window of the arch-room to the ground. Stuffing the pillow-slip into his pocket, and putting on his shoes, Charlie, amid the whispered commands of his companions—to "Be sure and fill the pillow-slip," "Don’t call the dogs bad names," "Give the compliments of the order to the squire if you happen to meet him," and other inspiring injunctions—climbed carefully out of the window, and let himself down hand over hand to the ground. Pausing only to kiss his hand circus-fashion to the faces at the window, he hastened off noiselessly over the dew-laden grass in the direction of the squire’s orchard. He knew his route well enough, and the distance was not quite half-a-mile, so that a few minutes’ quick walking brought him to his destination. The Ribston mansion stood well back from the road, and the orchard lay to its rear. Charlie therefore thought it well to leave the road before he reached the gate, and to take a slant through the fields that brought him up to the orchard fence about fifty yards behind the house. Here he crouched down, and listened, with strained ears and throbbing pulses, for the slightest sound that might indicate the proximity of a dog. But not a growl, or bark, or even sniff, broke the clover-scented stillness.