“That’s just what. I’ve seen him show the topography of a dozen countries with that stuff. It’s a fad of Ossie’s. But what can Frank want with it? Is he going to manufacture some artificial hands to prove his words?” asked Jack, the doubter. “Now, look here, you fellows who doubt my assertion. I’m going to make good; not only in my own case, but every one of you have got to be convinced by seeing how your own hands differ in a dozen ways. Each fellow take one of these trays, just as I am doing. Are you game to try?” asked Frank. “I’m ready for the test, and I’m not giving back a word. Convince me, and I’ll own up, but I’ve got to be shown,” declared Lanky. “Me, too!” echoed Jack, seizing a little box and leveling the clay with a pad used for the purpose, until it was perfectly smooth. And Lef took the last tray! Frank chuckled when he saw that, for he felt that there was some hope at least that his neat little plan might not fall down in the start through the suspicion of the one at whom it was aimed. “Bless the little innocent’s heart!” whispered Lanky in Frank’s ear. “First of all, every fellow write his name on the tablet in front of his tray, so we’ll know which is which,” said Frank, earnestly. “That’s so,” grinned Buster, “for I declare, if I’d want to stand sponsor for some of the paws other fellows own.” “The sentiment is kindly returned, Buster. You are welcome to a monopoly of your own kind of paws. Now, what, Frank?” queried Seymour. “All got your signature down? Well, pad the stuff until it’s just as smooth as the ice was last winter on the Harrapin, up near Rattail Island.” “Or as smooth as Lanky here when he’s got his Sunday duds on,” suggested Buster, with a chuckle. “Now be very careful how you press your right hand gently down in the clay on that side of the tray. Lift it out quietly, so as to leave a positive impression. Got that, everybody?” Frank went on, suiting the action to the words himself. “I’m on, all right!” called out one. “Me, too, and it’s just a dandy impression I made!” declared Buster, exultantly. “You always do, especially when you take a header over the handlebars of your wheel. I’ve seen it!” spoke up Lanky, ready to get back at his chum for the various sly digs he had received. Frank had his eyes about him. He knew that Lef was following up the little experiment just as eagerly as any of the others. It kept him near them, and thus he could hear what they might be talking about. If suggestions were offered concerning the identity of the unknown who had tried to get Frank into trouble, Lef was yearning to know the drift of the sentiment. “Now, do the same with the left hand,” Frank went on calmly, though his heart was undoubtedly beating faster than its wont; “and be mighty careful not to let it overlap the imprint of the right. How about that, fellows?” “Mine is a perfect success!” declared Lanky, triumphantly.