in at his gate.

"In bed. I'll be lucky if I stay awake till after breakfast."

"But we've got to tell Mr. Fulton."

"You tell him, Jerry. I just know he won't pay any attention to what
we say--I don't more'n half believe it now myself----" Dave had to
stop for a tremendous yawn.

"If that's the case, you might just as well sleep." Jerry was out of
patience, but Dave was too sleepy to care very much.

"I'll see you--see you--later, Jerry," he said drowsily as he turned
and staggered up the walk.

Jerry, after an undecided second or two, faced about and began to
retrace his steps. He cut through the Ellery back yard and came out
on the cross street at whose corner the Fultons lived. The house was
a big ramshackle affair of a dozen rooms or so, far too large a
place for the Fultons, since there had been only the two of them,
Tod's mother having died when he was only a little tad. Indeed, as
Tod said, they only used three rooms, the kitchen and two bedrooms.
But that was hardly true; there was a big basement under all the
house, the most of it used as a workroom, and here it was that the
two of them spent the better part of their waking hours.

Mr. Fulton was an odd sort of man, a bit inclined to think his
business his own business. But it was no secret among his neighbors
that all sorts of queer contrivances were planned and made in that