JIMSY FALLS ASLEEP.
"Anybody been around, Tam?"
Roy asked the question, as later on that evening he and Jimsy dropped
around to the disused livery stable in accordance with their plan.
Tam shook his head.
"Nobody bane round," he rejoined, and then, after a moment's pause,
"'cept Yim Cassell and his boy Dan."
"Jim Cassell and his son," echoed Roy, "the very people we don't want
around here. What did they want?"
"They want know where you bane," rejoined the Norwegian youth.
"Yes; and what did you tell them?"
"I bane tell them I skall not know," responded Tam.
"And then?"
"They bane ask me if ay have key by door."
"Oh, they did, eh? What did you say?"
"I say I bane not have key."
"Then what did they do?"
"They bane go 'way."
"Didn't say anything else?"
"No, they must go."
"Said nothing about coming back?"
"No."
"All right, Tarn, you can go home now. Here's your money."
"You bane want me no more?"
"No; we'll watch here ourselves to-night. Good night."
"Good night," rejoined Tam, pocketing his money and shuffling off down
the street.
He had hardly gone two blocks when from the shadow of an elm-shaded yard
the figure of Dan Cassell slipped out and intercepted him.
"So you've been fired, eh?"
He shot the question at the simple-minded Norwegian lad with vicious
emphasis.
"No, I no bane fired; they bane tell me no want me more."
"Well, isn't that being fired? Moreover, I can tell you that they've
hired another fellow in your place."
The Norwegian youth's light blue eyes lit up with indignant fire. Like
most of his race he was keenly sensitive once aroused, and while he was
quite agreeable to being dropped from his temporary job, he hated to
think of being supplanted in it. Crafty Dan Cassell was playing his
cards well, for a purpose that will be seen ere long.
"So they bane fire me," ejaculated Tam.
"That's the size of it. I guess you feel pretty sore, Tam, don't you?"
"No, they bane pay me wale; but I no like being fired."
"I should think not. The idea of a man like you being dropped. What
did they tell you when they let you go?"
"That they bane watch place themselves."
Dan Cassell smiled. His crafty methods had elicited something of real
value after all.
"Did they say they were going to watch all night?" he asked.
"Yes," rejoined the Norwegian, "they ask about you, too."
"Humph! What did they want to know?"
"If you'd been round by stable and what I bane tale you."
"What did you say?"
"I tale them the truth. I say that you and your father bane by stable
this evening."
Dan's face darkened.
"You had no business to tell them anything," he snarled. Then, with a
sudden change of front: "See here, Tam, do you want to make some money?"
"Sure, I bane like make money."
"Then come into the house a minute. Dad and I want to talk to you."
So saying Dan took the Norwegian by the arm and led him in through a
gate in a whitewashed picket fence. Beyond the fence was a fairly
prosperous looking house, on the piazza of which lounged Jim Cassell
smoking a cigar.
"Well, Tam," he said, "lost your job?"
The Norwegian replied in the affirmative.
"Well, never mind, I've got another for you," replied Jim Cassell,
in what was for him an unwontedly amiable tone; "can you go to work
at once?"
"Ay bane work any time skol be," spoke the Norwegian, and a puzzled
expression flitted over his face as both Cassells broke into what was
to him an inexplicable fit of laughter at his words.
In the meantime the boys had telephoned to the hotel that work on the
aëroplanes would detain them till late. They did not wish to inform the
girls that they were undertaking a night watch, as that would have led
to all sorts of questions, and if their fears proved ungrounded they
felt pretty sure of coming in for a lot of "joshing."
They agreed to divide the night into two parts, Jimsy watching till
midnight and then awakening Roy who would take up the vigil till dawn.
This arrangement having been made they secured a light lantern from
an adjacent hardware store and, entering the deserted livery stable,
prepared to carry out their plans. With the canvas covers of the
aëroplanes Roy managed to fix up quite a comfortable bed on a pile
of hay left in a sort of loft over the abandoned stable.
As for Jimsy, he made himself as comfortable as possible in the chassis
of the _Golden Butterfly_, the seats of which were padded as luxuriously
as those of a touring car. He had a book dealing with aeronautic
subjects with him, and, drawing the lantern close to the aëroplane,
he buried himself in the volume.
In the meantime Roy had rolled himself up in his canvas coverings and
was sound asleep. For a long time Jimsy read on. At first frequent
footsteps passed the door of the stable, but as it grew later these
ceased. Folks went to bed early in Meadville. Long before midnight
there was not a sound on the streets.
Jimsy read doggedly on. But he was painfully conscious of an almost
irresistible desire to lie back and doze off, if only for a few seconds.
The exciting events of the day had tired him out, nor was the book he
was reading one calculated to keep his wits stirring. It was a technical
work of abstruse character.
Jimsy's head began to nod. With a sharp effort he aroused himself only
to catch himself dozing off once more.
"See here, Jim Bancroft, this won't do," he sharply admonished himself,
"you're on duty, understand? On duty! Wake up and keep your eyes open."
But try as he would tired Nature finally asserted herself. Jimsy's head
fell forward, his eyes closed for good and he snored in right good
earnest. He was sound asleep.
It was about half an hour after he dozed off that a window in the rear
of the stable framed a face. A crafty, eager face it was, as the yellow
light of the lantern revealed its outlines. Dan Cassell, for it was he,
gazed sharply about him. He swiftly took in the posture of the sleeping
boy and a smile spread over his countenance.
Dropping from the ladder he had raised outside, he joined two figures
waiting for him in the shadow of the livery barn.
"It's too easy," he chuckled, "only one kid there and he's sound asleep.
Got everything ready?"
"Dey all bane ready, Maister Cassell," rejoined the slow, drawling voice
of the Norwegian Tam.
"Now don't botch the job," warned the elder Cassell, who was the third
member of the party; "remember it means a lot of trouble for us if
we're caught."
"No danger of that, dad. Come on, I'll go first and you and Tam follow."
"Is the window open?"
"No, but it slides back. It's an easy drop to the floor from it."
"All right, go ahead. I'll be glad when the job's over. I'm almost
inclined to drop out of it."
"And let those kids get away with what they did? Not much, dad. We'll
give them a lesson they won't forget in a hurry. Come on."
He began climbing the ladder. Behind him came his worthy parent, and
Tam formed the last member of the now silent procession. The Norwegian
carried a bulky package of some kind, the contents of which it would
have been impossible to guess save that it gave out a metallic sound
as Tam moved with it.
Dan Cassell reached the window, slid it noiselessly back in its grooves
and then, crawling through, dropped lightly to the floor within. He was
followed by his father and Tam.
But Jimsy slept on. Slept heavily and dreamlessly, while deadly peril
crept upon him.