“Put her there, Frank,” replied Lanky, thrusting out a hand with a boy’s impetuosity. “Why, I’d back you up, no matter what sort of a harum-scarum scheme you gave me. But this isn’t anything like that; I consider that it’s the boss idea. Why, we can crawl up there and just watch for keeps, without a single gyp bein’ any the wiser. Call it a go, Frank!” “Then that’s settled, and I’ll meet you at the big elm at, say, seven,” Frank proposed. “It doesn’t get real dark till after eight nowadays, you know; and we’ll have plenty of time to wander up this road.” Lanky was greatly pleased over the new development. Coming on the tail of his recent gloom, it was all the more acceptable to him. When he later on parted company with his chum, his last words were: “Don’t fail to be there at seven sharp, Frank! It’d knock me into flinders if you didn’t show up. I’d be tempted to come alone, and make the try, though chances are I’d only turn it into a foozle by my clumsiness.” “You can depend on me,” was what the other said, positively. Frank would have liked to take his father fully into his confidence, and get his sanction for the strange little errand that was about to occupy the time of himself and Lanky that night. But it happened that Mr. Allen had stayed at the house of a friend whom he had been visiting that afternoon; and Frank’s mother was lying down, with a headache; so it seemed that even had he wanted to, he could not have taken either of his parents into his secret just then. A little before seven he went out, without anyone paying any particular attention to his action. Possibly the mother supposed Frank was going to church, for he and Lanky both sang in the volunteer choir. But the boy really believed he had good reasons for absenting himself from his regular seat in the organ loft that night. And under his coat he carried the field glasses which he had spoken of to his chum. Lanky was waiting for him, and kicking his heels against the base of the big tree that had been appointed as a place of meeting. “Gee! aren’t you late, Frank?” he asked, a little pettishly. Just then the church clock boomed out the hour of seven, as if saving Frank the trouble of making a reply. “I reckon I’ve been here half an hour, and countin’ the minutes,” admitted Lanky, candidly, as they started off on a brisk walk. Evening was just coming on, and there were some clouds covering the heavens as the sun went down, which gave Lanky new cause for anxiety. He would not be happy a single day if things went too smoothly. “Reckon now there’s a storm just wantin’ to sail along this way, to upset all our calculations about Wednesday,” he grumbled. “Oh! I guess not,” Frank tried to console him by saying; “weather reports say dry weather and warmer for the whole eastern half of the country for the first three days of the week, beginning to-morrow. I looked it up this morning. Forget it, and let’s think only of what we’re trying to do right now.”