"Dick! Dick! Come back here!"

"Yes, sir," replied young Prescott, halting, wheeling, then springing
back. "But that scoundrel smashed the rear store window!"

"No, he didn't," laughed Mr. Prescott. "That was Tom Reade, and
he was playing a trick on you---with our permission. Now he's
being chased. Do you want to go out and aid that crowd in capturing
him?"

"Of course I don't, sir," replied Dick, who knew full well that
such a sturdy high school athlete as Tom Reade was in very little
danger of being caught by any citizen runners to be found on the
street at that time of night. "But what did Tom do, Dad?"

"I don't just know," admitted the bookseller. "Reade told us
there would be a smash of glass, but that it would be harmless.
He warned your mother, Dick, so that she wouldn't he startled
when it came. Tom did the right thing in warning your mother.
I wish all boys could realize that only cowards and fools go
about frightening women."

"But something else happened," insisted Mrs. Prescott. "I wonder
what it was?"

"Suppose we take a lantern and go out in the back yard and see,"
proposed Dick.

While Dick was finding the lantern the elder Prescott closed the