It rained the next night and even with the spyglass Jimmy could see nothing in the cornfields. But he knew the two scarecrows were out there, and he could imagine them standing in the rain with beads of water dripping from their hats. The muddy water would be running in rivulets between the rows of shocked corn and when the lightning flashed the shocks would gleam dully like so many stacked guns at an army encampment. Next day after lunch Jimmy drew his sister aside. "If you don't tell anybody I'll show you the present I've got for Mr. Maudsley. Promise?" "I promise," said Stella. Jimmy led the way into the barn and in the rear near one of the horse stalls, swept aside a covering of hay. He picked up a long rusty knife and displayed it with an air of pride. Stella was disappointed. "Just an old knife." "It's a voodoo knife, that's what it is. See the way the handle is carved." Stella looked and saw a yellowed handle of what once might have been ivory, carved in the shape of a running goat with several quasi-human faces low down near the hilt. "What are you going to do with it?" she said. "I told you. Give it to Mr. Maudsley. It's his." "How do you know it's his?" "This is Mr. Maudsley's barn, isn't it? Besides, it was near his other stuff." Stella was not enthusiastic. "Papa won't like it. He got mad when you nailed that pie-tin to Mr. Maudsley's hand." "Papa won't know a thing about it. Come on." It was hot in the cornfield. The morning sun beat down fiercely and the air smelled of damp earth. The ground between the rows of stubble was marked with tiny channels the running water had cut the night before. But the shocks were dry again and in the slight breeze they whispered and rustled gently. The two children made a bee-line for the center of the field until they came to the two cross boards that served as a framework for the scarecrow. The scarecrow was fashioned of some old clothing which had once belonged to a fat man--overalls, a coat of what might have been a Sunday suit at one time, and an ancient felt hat--castaways which the children had found in the barn. The cardboard face, marked in black crayon, a little blurred now from the rain, had been copied by Jimmy from an old photograph the boy had come upon among some old papers when he had cleaned out the attic. Jimmy had decided that even a crow wouldn't be fooled by a faceless scarecrow. Jimmy was about to climb the upright shaft when Stella stopped him. "Wait," she said. "Let's not give Mr. Maudsley the knife." "Why not? It's his." "_Let's give it to Mr. Trask._" The boy's jaw dropped as the enormity of the idea grew upon him. Then he uttered a squeal of delight. Laughing and giggling, the two children turned and ran down and vaulted the fence that enclosed the aisle of shocks to the road and adjacent field. Five minutes later the second scarecrow brandished a knife at the end of one of its handless sleeves.