"Hello, Gervais," was the hearty greeting he gave to the cool one, the latter engaged, with a well-thumbed deck of cards, in a game of solitaire. "Hello yourself," returned the gamester, dropping the cards, and coming forward to relieve the newcomer of the market basket. Billy and Henri were seated in the shadow, beyond the range of the candle rays, and at the time escaped notice. Both had started, however, at the first sound of the new voice. From a side view the make-up was that of a typical huckster of these parts, fur cap, with ear lappets, corduroy greatcoat and cowhide boots. Between cap and collar bunched a heavy growth of iron-gray whiskers. The boys did not realize that their instinctive move, occasioned by a certain tone in the voice, had not been amiss until the speaker had turned full face. Even the luxuriant whiskers could not wholly hide the Anglin smile! Much to the astonishment of Gervais and Fred, and infinitely more to the surprise of the imitation huckster, the boys at a single bound jointly invaded the circle of light and grasped the elbows of their one-time Calais acquaintance. "What sort of a hold-up is this?" cried Anglin, in startled recognition; "is it raining harumscarum aviators in Strassburg? By the great horn spoon, it's enough to make me believe I've got 'em to see you under this roof." "I'll bet you knew that we blew in with Roque," proposed Billy, "for you have a way of seeing seven ways for Sunday." "You win, laddy-buck, on the first statement, but I'm still up a stump on the proposition of how you got into this house." "We were loafing," put in Henri, "started out on a pigeon hunt and got the drag when we mentioned it at your back door." "Pigeon hunt?" Anglin wore a puzzled look. Henri made quick explanation of the whole affair. "Ha! I see," exclaimed Anglin. "By the way, you did not happen to mention your tower observations to anyone else, did you?" This last query had a dead-earnest ring, with a rising note of anxiety. "Not on your life," assured Henri; "in the first place, the big chief had no time to bother with us; we had no inducement to talk to anybody else, and, all in all, who'd have cared about the bird business, anyhow?" "Well, it seems there was one fellow who did." Billy indicated Fred, who was unpacking the baskets. "There are others," laughed Anglin, much relieved by the boys' statement. Fur cap, wig and false whiskers were tossed onto the mantelpiece, and the huckster was no more. The baskets had produced a plentiful supply of ham, cold chicken, and the like, and not one of the party could be charged with lack of appetite. In the glow of good-fellowship, Fred told Billy he was sorry that he had given him so rough a reception. "Honors are easy, old top," was Billy's jovial acceptance of the apology, "and I am glad now that we did not break any of your ribs when we banged you around."