But nevertheless, many times his eyes seemed to turn toward that partly
opened window, and then in the direction of the low desk where the box of
coins stood.

"Scissors" Dempsey had come by his nickname because of a peculiar trick
he had of keeping his knees stiff when walking. Long ago one boy had
likened his long legs to a pair of scissors, and quick to take up a
humorous name like this, his mates had called him nothing else in years.

"Well, it's a mighty funny thing where that bunch of old copper coins
has gone to!" remarked Jack, presently, unable, it seemed, to think of
anything else just then.

"I believe this den of yours is hardly ever locked," remarked Paul,
presently, "and all persons can come up here whenever they choose. I've
even often found your dog Carlo sleeping here. Why, if any friend calls
to see you, and wants to wait till you come home, he just meanders up
here as he pleases, and amuses himself looking over your books and
magazines. Isn't that so, Jack?"

"Sure. My mother says this is Liberty Hall, judging from the way all my
chums go and come. But what's got you now? Do you think some other chap
may have fallen into the nasty habit of helping himself to my coins,
either to swell out his own collection, or to sell them to Doc. Thomes?"

"Oh! hardly that, although it seems possible. But don't worry too much
about it, Jack. I'm sure we'll discover the truth sooner or later."

"Anyhow I'll have eight to hide away; part of a loaf is better than no