“We’ll wait until they’re in their ‘coop,’ holding a meeting,” explained Spider. “Then we’ll drive these stakes in the ground at the foot of the stairs, so they’ll trip over the strings when they rush down. And if they fall into the lampblack and molasses, we can’t help it; can we?” he chuckled. “Of course not,” answered Beantoe, with a malicious grin. “But how are you going to get them to rush out of the coop?” “Oh, I’ll show you.” “And s’pose they catch us at it?” “I don’t believe they will. It won’t take but a couple of minutes to stick in the stakes. The ground’s soft and the stakes are sharp. We’ll work it to-night, for it will be good and dark, and I heard Cap tell Bateye and Doc. to come over after supper, so they’ll all be there.” “Good. We’ll get square this time.” A little later two figures, carrying some stakes and a can, might have been seen proceeding cautiously toward the Smith homestead. The two figures did not go boldly up and ring the front door bell. Instead they sneaked around in the rear where there was an old workshop, which had been converted by Cap and his brothers into a sort of “coop” or den, where they held meetings and talked over pet schemes. Entrance to the coop was obtained by means of an outside stairway, which led to the second floor, where the meetings were always held, in a room, the walls of which were hung with bats, masks, fencing foils, boxing gloves, fishing poles and other trophies dear to boyish hearts. It was at the foot of this outside stairway, after carefully looking about to see that they were not observed, that Beantoe and Spider began thrusting the sharpened stakes into the ground. Then they wound the stout cord in and out among them, making a maze of string, which, if anyone ran into unexpectedly in the dark, would be very likely to trip him up. “There, now to spread the molasses and lampblack around and give the alarm,” said Spider, when they had nearly finished their preparations. “Are you sure they’re up there?” asked Beantoe. “Pretty sure. You can see the light, and I heard a lot of voices.” They listened a moment and caught the unmistakable tones of Cap Smith. “It’s all right,” whispered Spider. “Pour the stuff out, Beantoe.” “Aw, I don’t wanter. You’d better,” objected the tripping youth. “I will not! Didn’t I get all the stuff, and stick in most of the stakes?” “Well, I sharpened some. Besides, I’m afraid if I pour it I might slip and fall into it.” “That’s so, I didn’t think of that,” and as Spider recalled the unfortunate habit of his crony he took the can of molasses and lampblack from him, and began making a trail of it all about the foot of the stairs, walking backwards so as to keep out of it himself. “I guess that will do,” announced the long-legged lad at length. “Now we’ll hide back here and watch the fun. I’ll bring ’em out.” “How?” “Listen, and you’ll hear.”