So Jack said goodnight and went out of the front door. Usually he was
wont to whistle as he crossed the lots that would serve as a short cut
to his own house; but somehow tonight he was busily engaged with his
thoughts, and forgot to indulge in this favorite pastime.

It was a moonless night.

The stars shone brightly in the blue dome above, but gave very little
light; although it was not really dark anywhere inside the confines of
Chester, since the streets were pretty generally illuminated with
electricity.

Jack had just started across lots when he made a discovery that
aroused his curiosity a little. There was a queer sort of light
flickering beyond him. He quickly realized that some person must be
walking the same way as he was, and carrying one of those useful
little hand-electric torches, which he seemed to be moving this way
and that in an erratic fashion.

"Whoever it is," Jack told himself presently, "I do believe he is
looking in the grass for something he's lost."

Walking on and a bit faster than the unknown seemed to be going, he
soon drew closer, and was able to see that it was a boy who bent over
and scrutinized everything upon which the light of his flashlight
fell. Once he uttered an exclamation of sudden delight and made a jump
forward, only to stop short, and give a doleful grant as though
discovering his mistake.

"Oh! how cruel to fool me so," Jack heard him mutter to himself; "only