The Shark appeared to be estimating the weight of the stone. “Yes; it’s heavy enough,” he said calmly. “If it had struck anybody squarely, the result might have been fatal.” There was a wrathful gleam in Sam’s eye. “Where did you find the cap, Step?” he demanded. “Let’s get down to business.” “It was on the ground, back of the barn--low limb of one of the apple trees must have knocked it off his head. Great luck that I stumbled upon it; and that was just what I did. Too dark to see anything, but my foot caught in something, and I stopped and picked the something up. And here it is!” Poke was wagging his head in his peculiar fashion. “Fellows, it’s as plain as day. Orkney has been too proud to wear the cap to school, but he didn’t mind putting it on at night, when nobody would notice it. Then he came sneaking around the club-house. The Shark must have had a glimpse of him at the window. When we went out to see who was there, he lay low. As soon as we came back into the house, he let drive the boulder at the first chance, and then bolted for all he was worth. He had such a start that he got away; but he didn’t dare stop to pick up the cap. And now, I say, we have him where we want him.” “You bet we have!” “That’s hitting the nail on the head!” “Gee! but it was a cowardly job!” So spoke the Trojan, Step and Boyd. Poke warmed to his theme, after the manner of orators, encouraged by applause. “We’ve got him where we want him, and we’ll put him through the works. I tell you, he’ll be mighty sorry before this thing is ended. Why, he ought to be arrested and sent to jail!” “H-m-m-m!” It was a murmur tinged with disapproval, which Poke did not fail to perceive. “Wait a minute, fellows!” he said hastily. “I know what you’re thinking, and I guess you’re right. We can take care of this case ourselves. We will, too! If the club can’t defend itself, it ought to go out of business.” There was another murmur, all approval. “It may have been Step’s scrap in the beginning, but it’s our scrap now,” Poke went on. “It’s a club affair. That stone was thrown at the bunch--at Sam, for instance, as much as at Step.” The Shark grunted. “Huh! Be accurate, Poke, be accurate! It wasn’t thrown at Step at all. He was out of range--across the room from the rest of us. He wasn’t in sight from the window.” “Eh? What’s that?” “It was the fact--come to think of it,” Step himself admitted. “I remember I’d left the crowd.” “Humph! Don’t see that that makes any difference,” argued Poke. “It doesn’t--in one way,” said the Shark. “In another, it does. It means that the person who chucked that stone wasn’t especially after Step. No doubt he took a good look into the room before he let drive. And, as I recall the position of each of us, Sam stood where he must have been the real bull’s-eye of the target.” “But what diff----”