Visit https://testbankbell.

com to download the full version and

explore more testbank or solution manual

Test Bank for Starting Out with Python (4th

Edition) 4th Edition

_____ Click the link below to download _____

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-starting-
out-with-python-4th-edition-4th-edition/

Explore and download more testbank at testbankbell.com

Here are some suggested products you might be interested in.
Click the link to download

Starting Out with Python 4th Edition Gaddis Test Bank

http://testbankbell.com/product/starting-out-with-python-4th-edition-
gaddis-test-bank/

Test Bank for Starting Out with Python (4th Edition) 4th
Edition

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-starting-out-with-
python-4th-edition-4th-edition/

Test Bank for Starting out with Python, 5th Edition, Tony
Gaddis

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-starting-out-with-
python-5th-edition-tony-gaddis/

Test Bank for Pharmacology for Canadian Health Care

Practice 3rd Edition by Lilley

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-pharmacology-for-
canadian-health-care-practice-3rd-edition-by-lilley/
Solution Manual for Operations and Supply Chain
Management, 2nd Edition David Alan Collier James R. Evans

http://testbankbell.com/product/solution-manual-for-operations-and-
supply-chain-management-2nd-edition-david-alan-collier-james-r-evans/

Solution Manual For Accounting Essentials of Advanced

Financial Accounting Richard E. Baker 1ST EDITION

http://testbankbell.com/product/solution-manual-for-accounting-
essentials-of-advanced-financial-accounting-richard-e-baker-1st-
edition/

Test Bank for Contemporary Advertising, 16th Edition,

William Arens Michael Weigold

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-contemporary-
advertising-16th-edition-william-arens-michael-weigold/

Solution manual for Government and Not-For-Profit

Accounting: Concepts and Practices, 7th Edition

http://testbankbell.com/product/solution-manual-for-government-and-
not-for-profit-accounting-concepts-and-practices-7th-edition/

Solutions Manual for Comprehensive Assurance & Systems

Tool 3e by Ingraham 0133099210

http://testbankbell.com/product/solutions-manual-for-comprehensive-
assurance-systems-tool-3e-by-ingraham-0133099210/
Test Bank for Intermediate Accounting, 13th Edition:
Donald E. Kieso

http://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-intermediate-
accounting-13th-edition-donald-e-kieso/
Starting Out with Python 4e (Gaddis)
Chapter 1 Introduction to Computers and Programming

Test Bank for Starting Out with Python (4th Edi-

tion) 4th Edition
full chapter at: https://testbankbell.com/product/test-bank-for-
starting-out-with-python-4th-edition-4th-edition/
TRUE/FALSE

1. A software developer is the person with the training to design, create, and test computer programs.

ANS: T

2. A computer is a single device that performs different types of tasks for its users.

ANS: F

3. All programs are normally stored in ROM and are loaded into RAM as needed for processing.

ANS: F

4. The instruction set for a microprocessor is unique and is typically understood only by the
microprocessors of the same brand.

ANS: T

5. The CPU understands instructions written in a binary machine language.

ANS: T

6. A bit that is turned off is represented by the value -1.

ANS: F

7. The main reason to use secondary storage is to hold data for long periods of time, even when the
power supply to the computer is turned off.

ANS: T

8. RAM is a volatile memory used for temporary storage while a program is running.

ANS: T

9. The Python language uses a compiler which is a program that both translates and executes the
instructions in a high-level language.
 ANS: F

10. IDLE is an alternative method to using a text editor to write, execute, and test a Python program.

ANS: T

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. Programs are commonly referred to as

a. system software
b. software
c. application software
d. utility programs
ANS: B

2. Which of the following is considered to be the world's first programmable electronic computer?
a. IBM
b. Dell
c. ENIAC
d. Gateway
ANS: C

3. Where does a computer store a program and the data that the program is working with while the
program is running?
a. in main memory
b. in the CPU
c. in secondary storage
d. in the microprocessor
ANS: A

4. What type of volatile memory is usually used only for temporary storage while running a program?
a. ROM
b. TMM
c. RAM
d. TVM
ANS: C

5. Which of the following is not a microprocessor manufacturing company?

a. Intel
b. Dell
c. AMD
d. Motorola
ANS: B

6. Which computer language uses short words known as mnemonics for writing programs?
a. Assembly
 b. Java
c. Pascal
d. Visual Basic
ANS: A

7. The process known as the __________ cycle is used by the CPU to execute instructions in a program.
a. decode-fetch-execute
b. decode-execute-fetch
c. fetch-decode-execute
d. fetch-execute-decode
ANS: C

8. Which language is referred to as a low-level language?

a. C++
b. Assembly language
c. Java
d. Python
ANS: B

9. The following is an example of an instruction written in which computer language?

10110000
a. Assembly language
b. Java
c. machine language
d. C#
ANS: C

10. The encoding technique used to store negative numbers in the computer's memory is called
a. Unicode
b. ASCII
c. floating-point notation
d. two's complement
ANS: D

11. The __________ coding scheme contains a set of 128 numeric codes that are used to represent
characters in the computer's memory.
a. Unicode
b. ASCII
c. ENIAC
d. two's complement
ANS: B

12. The smallest storage location in a computer's memory is known as a

a. byte
b. ketter
c. switch
 d. bit
ANS: D

13. What is the largest value that can be stored in one byte?
a. 255
b. 128
c. 8
d. 65535
ANS: A

14. The disk drive is a secondary storage device that stores data by __________ encoding it onto a
spinning circular disk.
a. electrically
b. magnetically
c. digitally
d. optically
ANS: B

15. A __________ has no moving parts and operates faster than a traditional disk drive.
a. DVD drive
b. solid state drive
c. jumper drive
d. hyper drive
ANS: B

16. Which of the following is not a major component of a typical computer system?
a. the CPU
b. main memory
c. the operating system
d. secondary storage devices
ANS: C

17. Which type of error prevents the program from running?

a. syntax
b. human
c. grammatical
d. logical
ANS: A

18. What is the decimal value of the following binary number?

10011101
a. 157
b. 8
c. 156
d. 28
ANS: C
MULTIPLE RESPONSE

1. Select all that apply. To create a Python program you can use
a. a text editor
b. a word processor if you save your file as a .docx
c. IDLE
d. Excel
ANS: A, C

COMPLETION

1. A(n) ___________ is a set of instructions that a computer follows to perform a task.

ANS: program

2. The term ___________ refers to all the physical devices that make up a computer.

ANS: hardware

3. The __________ is the part of the computer that actually runs programs and is the most important
component in a computer.

ANS: central processing unit, CPU

4. A disk drive stores data by __________ encoding it onto a circular disk.

ANS: magnetically

5. __________ are small central processing unit chips.

ANS: Microprocessors

6. __________ is a type of memory that can hold data for long periods of time, even when there is no
power to the computer.

ANS: Secondary storage

7. Main memory is commonly known as __________.

ANS: random-access memory, RAM

8. USB drives store data using __________ memory.

ANS: flash

9. The Python __________ is a program that can read Python programming statements and execute them.

ANS: interpreter
10. In __________ mode, the interpreter reads the contents of a file that contains Python statements and
executes each statement.

ANS: script
Other documents randomly have
different content
merely puzzled and had no covert design.
“You don’t, eh?” leered Margate, evidently pleased to discuss his own
cunning. “I’ll tell you how.”
“Well, I’m listening.”
“I sent a man to watch your New York residence.”
“Ah!”
“I knew that if any detective was employed, you would be the one.”
“I see.”
“And you were seen when you left home alone with a suit case and took
the train for Washington,” Margate went on sneeringly. “You were shadowed
when you arrived at the Willard. You were watched throughout yesterday.
You were seen with Fallon, the infernal dick, dipping into a mess you had
better kept out of. You were seen going in disguise to Garland’s office, and
afterward to his rooms in the Grayling, where he joined you about five
o’clock. You were seen leaving and returning to the Willard, where you
remained until to-night, when you went to his rooms again and fixed
yourself up to turn this trick on me.”
Nick Carter’s face evinced no sign of the satisfaction he now felt.
It was obvious to him that Margate had blundered and been deceived, in
spite of his precautions. He evidently had, or one of his confederates, been
watching Garland in the disguise of the detective, and that none of them
suspected the ruse Nick had adopted.
It was perfectly plain, therefore, that the presence of Chick and Patsy in
Washington was not suspected, and no steps having been taken by the rascals
to guard against what they might accomplish, Nick now felt reasonably sure
that one or both of them would make good along the lines he had laid out.
His own situation did not look nearly as dark as it had before evoking these
disclosures, and Nick was content to meet it as he found it.
The situation took a more threatening turn, however, sooner than he really
expected.
Seeing Nick apparently nonplussed by what he had heard, Margate
laughed exultantly and quickly added:
“But you’ll turn no trick on me, Carter, take my word for it. The boot is
on the other leg. I still have Garland where I want him, as well as you. The
newspapers tell me all that you have disclosed. I’ll get Garland later—and
finish you at once.”
“Don’t hurry, Margate,” Nick put in coolly. “I’m in no rush.”
“But I am!” snapped the scowling miscreant. “I’m itching to get even
with you, to pay you for what you have done to me, to see you dead at my
feet. It won’t be long, Carter, not long. You shall pay the price. Take it from
me—you shall pay the price!”
The threatening face vanished like a flash with the last.
The panel flew back into place with a sharp, ominous click.
Nick Carter found himself again in inky darkness.
He stepped quickly to the opposite wall and listened at the closed panel.
He now could hear Margate’s voice in the adjoining corridor, followed by
others replying. They told him only too plainly what fate the miscreants had
in view for him.
“The sooner it’s done, Batty, the better,” Margate was forcibly saying.
“We’ll wait only for Nell to show up. I want her here when we put out his
light. That’s the only sure way to prevent her from peaching, or any one else.
Put them in the same boat with you. Then they’ll never squeal.”
“That’s right, too, Andy,” declared a voice which Nick recognized as that
of the burly chauffeur.
“Sure it’s right, Baldwin,” Margate returned.
“But where is she, Andy?” Lombard demanded. “You must have seen her
this evening. She hasn’t had charge of the girl since afternoon. When will
she show up?”
“By Jove, they have Lottie Trent here, also,” thought Nick. “There would
be something doing, all right, if I could break out of this thing.”
Listening while indulging in these thoughts, Nick heard Margate reply:
“I left her in Brady’s just before coming out here, before seeing you and
Baldwin start out on this job. She had had no supper, so waited to get it. She
may show up at any moment.”
“But Carter has guns, Andy, and will put up a fight. If——”
“Hang his guns!” Margate cut in harshly. “He’ll get no chance to use
them. We’ll not need a gun.”
“How can you fix him?”
 “Dead easy. We’ll attach the hose to the gas meter and run it to the trap. It
will reach from the meter to the elevator shaft. We’ll bore a hole for it
through the plank ceiling. Carter then can’t stop the flow of gas. We’ll
suffocate him like a rat in a copper boiler.”
“That’s the stuff,” growled Baldwin approvingly. “Dead easy is right.”
“Come out to the office,” Margate added. “We’ll wait there till Nell
comes in.”
“But the girl——”
“We’ll silence her later. She can’t get out. I’ve made sure of that. Come
out to the office.”
Nick heard their heavy tread through the corridor and up a short flight of
stairs, which convinced him that he was in the basement of some building.
“By Jove, I’ve got to make a bid for liberty, at least,” he said to himself.
Whipping out his electric searchlight, he at once began a hurried
inspection of the four walls and the section where the panel was located. He
saw plainly that the trap had been constructed on a small elevator, and so
made that it could be opened only from the outside. He quickly found,
moreover, that the planking was of sufficient strength to preclude escape, nor
could he start the panel in either direction.
“By gracious, it don’t look very promising,” Nick muttered, grim and
frowning. “But there’ll be some gun play, all right, if the rascals try to bore a
hole through this ceiling. I’ll foil them yet, barring——”
Nick then was given the surprise of his life.
A sharp click broke his train of thought. The door of the trap flew open
and a girl stood directly in front of him in the lighted corridor.
She was deathly pale and frightfully excited, but her eyes were aglow
with fierce determination. Her hair and garments were in disorder. Her lace
collar was stained with blood. She was trembling from head to foot with
frantic eagerness.
“I heard them—I know!” she wildly whispered. “I’m Lottie Trent. I was
imprisoned in that room opposite. I picked the lock with a hairpin. I had seen
them open this door and knew you could not——”
Her torrent of words was cut short by the sudden sharp crack of a
revolver.
A bullet splintered the woodwork above her head.
 “They’ve heard me!” she gasped.
Nick already had seized her and drawn her into the trap, beyond reach of
bullet from that end of the corridor where Margate and his two confederates
were plunging down a low flight of stairs.
“Wait here!” Nick commanded, forcing the girl to one corner and
snatching out both of his revolvers. “I’ll give these rats a taste of their own
medicine.”
 CHAPTER IX.

BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

Chick Carter and Patsy Garvan, though this case was one in which nearly
all of the work had devolved upon Nick Carter himself, were not idle while
their chief was engaged as described.
Following the instructions given him, Patsy spent most of the day in
running down the place where Margate had obtained a large photographic
camera, as Nick had been led to suspect.
Patsy finally found that such a camera had been bought ten days before
from a pawnbroker in one of the lower sections of the city, and that the
purchaser was a man of Margate’s description.
The pawnbroker stated that he had not left his address, however, but had
paid for the camera and sent an expressman to get it, but whose name the
pawnbroker did not know.
Patsy then began a vigorous hunt for the expressman, but his efforts were
not rewarded until nearly nine in the evening, when he found the man he was
seeking.
This man then informed him that he had taken the camera to a building
out Georgetown way, which had been vacated a short time before by a
manufacturing concern that had failed in business, and which had recently
been rented by parties who contemplated moving into it for a similar
business, but who were not yet under way.
Patsy needed to hear no more than that. He learned precisely where the
building was located, thanked the expressman for his information, and then
headed for the trolley-car line running out there.
“It’s after nine, and the chief must have left the Grayling,” he shrewdly
reasoned. “If there is anything doing, it will be in that same building. I’ll
hike out there at once, in case I am needed.”
It was half past nine when Patsy boarded a trolley car, and he then was
given a surprise.
In one corner of it sat—Chick Carter.
 He was not alone.
His companion was a flashily clad blonde of about thirty, with yellow
hair and rouged cheeks, and whose rather bleared eyes and maudlin
expression plainly denoted that she had been looking on the wine when it is
red in the cup.
“Gee whiz!” thought Patsy, immensely tickled for more reasons than one.
“Where did he get next to that? She’s a bird with wilted plumage. He looks
all right, but she certainly has her load. There must be something doing, or
he wouldn’t be heading out this way with her. But where did he gather her
in? That’s what puzzles me.”
Their eyes met a moment later, but no observable sign passed between the
two. A momentary twinkle in Chick’s eyes, however, gave Patsy the only
needed cue.
Nick Carter’s anticipations were speedily verified when Chick, visiting
Larry Trent in his prison cell that afternoon, told the convict what had
befallen his sister, and of the other crimes of which Margate was guilty.
Resenting the wrong done the girl, Trent informed Chick that his sister
had known Margate only under the name of Matt Gaffney; that the latter had
lodged in the same house with her, and that they had been quite friendly, also
that Margate could be found almost every evening in a red disguise in a
saloon and restaurant run by one Phil Brady, in a red-light section of the city.
Chick thus obtained enough information as he thought would serve his
purpose, and eight o’clock that evening found him watching Brady’s
establishment from the opposite side of the street.
Half an hour brought no results, however, and Chick then sauntered into
the saloon and bought a drink, carelessly asking the bartender:
“Seen Gaffney this evening?”
“Not yet,” was the reply. “But he’ll soon show up. There’s a skirt waiting
for him in the last booth.”
Chick took a look at her with the aid of the bar mirror.
“She’s a new one to me,” he said indifferently.
“She ain’t new around here,” grinned the bartender. “That’s Nell Breen.”
Chick turned away without another question and repaired to his former
vantage point across the street.
 Ten minutes later he saw Margate enter the saloon and talk a few
moments with the woman, buying a drink for both.
Margate then came out, hastening to a limousine that had stopped at a
near corner. He talked earnestly with the driver and one passenger for a short
time and then hurried away.
The limousine departed in the opposite direction.
Chick made one of his characteristic clever moves. He scribbled a few
words on a blank card with a lead pencil, then hurried to the booth in which
Nell Breen was sipping a Martini and waiting for pork chops.
“Here, Nell, read that,” he whispered impressively, slipping her the card.
“Andy sent me in with it.”
The woman looked up suspiciously, then read the card:
“Nell: This fellow is all right. Bring him along. I have a use for him.
Hastily,
Andy.”
“Who gave you this?” Nell demanded, gazing again, but less
suspiciously.
Chick had taken a chance that she was to rejoin Margate later, or would
know where to find him.
“Oh, get wise, get wise, kid,” he said significantly. “Matt Gaffney sent
me in, or Andy Margate, if that hits you any better. Can’t you read it?”
“Why didn’t he come in with you?”
“He hadn’t time,” Chick glibly explained. “He was spieling to two blokes
in a taxi. He sent them away and was in a big rush himself. He said you’d
know what to do when you saw his note. What am I up against, anyway?”
Chick began to scowl—and the woman then began to laugh. She had
taken just enough liquor to feel silly, and want more.
“He wants me to bring you out, eh?” she asked.
“That’s what he said. You can read it, can’t you?”
“Sure I can read it,” grinned Nell. “But I’m not going out there till I’ve
had my feed. You can bet your boots on that.”
“I’m a bit hungry myself,” Chick vouchsafed.
“Sit down and order something. Say, what’s your moniker?”
 “Sandy Billings. I’ve known Andy from ’way back. Will you wrap
yourself around another drink?”
“Sure! Make it dry.”
With the way thus cleverly paved, Chick afterward found it easy walking.
Nell Breen made good in so far as Chick desired. She left the car at the
proper point and conducted him about a quarter mile to the building then the
scene of episodes already described.
Patsy Garvan followed them with no great need for caution, owing to the
woman’s intoxication.
They entered a yard leading to an end door of the somewhat ancient stone
building. The limousine was one of the first things to catch Chick’s eye, and
it told him all he then wanted to know.
He glanced back and saw Patsy stealing after him.
“Must we ring, or knock?” he asked, as he approached the door with the
reeling woman.
“Neizer,” she muttered, with maudlin thickness. “I’ve gotta key.”
“Let’s have it,” Chick said quietly. “You couldn’t find the keyhole.”
“I’ll be dead lucky if I find the key,” said Nell, feeling for a pocket in her
skirt.
She presently found it and produced the key, nevertheless, placing it in
the detective’s hand.
Chick tried to insert it noiselessly into the lock, and stopped—for the
hundredth part of a second.
There came from within, sending a thrill through him from head to foot—
the sudden, sharp, spiteful crack of a revolver.
Patsy also heard it, and three quick leaps brought him to Chick’s side.
Both swept the woman aside, throwing her to the ground, and Chick
unlocked the door and threw it open.
Their gaze fell upon a lighted corridor, a low flight of stairs leading down
to it, and upon Margate, Lombard, and Baldwin, now shooting wildly at a
man crouching near what appeared to be a narrow door.
“There’s Nick!” Chick yelled. “At them, Patsy!”
Both dashed into the corridor, revolvers in hand.
 Batty Lombard fell at that moment, pierced with a bullet from Nick’s
revolver.
Baldwin turned to flee—only to find himself caught between two fires.
He dropped his revolver to the floor and threw up his hands.
Andy Margate did nothing of the kind. He suddenly seemed to grasp the
altered situation. He reached into his vest pocket and clapped something to
his mouth.
Then he dropped as if struck by lightning, landing with a thud on the
floor, face up.
An empty vial was rolling to one side, glistening in the bright light.
Nick approached, shaking hands with Chick and Patsy, and then he gazed
down at the vial and the white, upturned face.
“Paying the price—that’s right,” he said a bit grimly. “He has saved us
the trouble. He spoke the truth for once in his life. The price has been paid.”
Midnight saw Baldwin and Nell Breen lodged in a prison cell, Lombard
dying in a hospital, and Andy Margate laid out temporarily in the back room
of a city undertaker, his bier a plank, his covering a sheet.
Lombard confessed before he died, but it needs no record in these pages.
For it confirmed in nearly every detail the theories of Nick Carter, as already
set forth in his discussion of his suspicions and deductions.
The relief of Garland, as well as that of Senator Barclay and Stella, the
gratitude of all for Nick and his assistants—these go without saying, as Nick
remarked when they attempted to thank him.
“It’s satisfaction enough for me that we have canned Andy Margate,” he
added. “Lombard will not live till morning, moreover, and the others will get
what’s coming to them. Who could ask more in behalf of justice?”

THE END.
“On Death’s Trail; or, Nick Carter’s Strangest Case,” will be the title of
the long, complete story that you will find in the next issue, No. 147, of the
Nick Carter Stories, out July 3d. In this story are recounted some of the
most interesting adventures which have ever befallen the famous detective
and his almost equally famous assistants. Then, too, there will be the usual
installment of a corking good serial, together with several short but
interesting and instructive articles.
 FIGHTING WITH CHEESE.
The most remarkable ammunition ever heard of was used by the
celebrated Commodore Coe, of the Montevidian navy, who, in an
engagement with Admiral Brown, of the Buenos Airean service, fired every
shot from his lockers.
“What shall we do, sir?” asked his first lieutenant.
It looked as if Coe would have to strike his colors, when it occurred to his
first lieutenant to use Dutch cheese as cannon balls. There happened to be a
large quantity of these on board, and in a few minutes the fire of the old
Santa Maria—Coe’s ship—which had ceased entirely, was reopened, and
Admiral Brown found more shot flying over his head. Directly, one of them
struck his mainmast, and, as it did so, shattered and flew in every direction.
“What the dickens is the enemy firing?” asked Brown.
But nobody could tell. Directly another came in through a port and killed
two men who were near him, and then, striking the opposite bulwarks, burst
into pieces.
Brown believed it to be some newfangled paixhan or other, and as four or
five more of them came slap through his sails, he gave orders to fill away,
and actually backed out of the fight, receiving a parting broadside of Dutch
cheese.
 Where’s the Commandant?

By C. C. WADDELL.

(This interesting story was commenced in No. 140 of Nick Carter

Stories. Back numbers can always be obtained from your news dealer or the
publishers.)
 CHAPTER XXVII.

STRANGE PRECAUTIONS.

While Grail was shaving, at that two-minute gait which, once acquired at
West Point, is never forgotten, a sudden suggestion came to him, and he laid
down his razor to draft out on a telegraph blank a composition, which
seemed, from the way he frowned and bit his pen over it, to require careful
consideration.
Finishing it at last, he slipped it into a sealed envelope, and when he had
completed his dressing, carried it and the note from Appleby over to the
post-telegraph office.
The Appleby note he laid on the table under a paper weight.
“Sergeant,” he said to the man in charge, “I want you to keep your eye on
that paper, and if it disappears, instantly transmit this to the address within.”
He handed over the sealed envelope.
The man stared at him as though he thought he had suddenly gone crazy.
“If the paper disappears?” he gasped.
“Exactly.” Grail looked at him sternly. “And let there be no mistake in
carrying out instructions, please. As you may surmise, there are strange
things going on, and much may depend on you to-night. I repeat, if the paper
on the desk disappears, you are to send without delay the dispatch in that
sealed envelope.”
Then he started for the waiting taxi; but the operator halted him at the
door.
“Oh, by the way, captain,” he called, “Miss Vedant was trying to get you
several times this afternoon.” A bit confused by Grail’s impressive manner
and the peculiar instructions given him, he did not think to add that the call
had come by wireless.
“Miss Vedant?” The adjutant swung around, his hand on the knob. “Did
she leave any message for me?”
“No, sir. Merely said she would call again.”
 “Very well. It makes no difference now. I shall probably see her in person
in ten or fifteen minutes.”
Whirling uptown with Cato in the cab, he kept pondering over the matter,
wondering why Meredith had been so anxious to communicate with him,
and trying to piece out an answer from the facts at his disposal.
Then he suddenly slapped his knee, as what seemed to be a solution
broke upon him.
“Cato,” he exclaimed, “do you remember what Simmons was saying
when he was interrupted by that pistol shot, and the arrival of the Japs?”
“Something about a family reunion between the colonel and his daughter,
wasn’t it, sir?”
“Yes; the exact words, as I remember, were that it would be quite a family
reunion to have father and daughter under——” Then he stopped. “Cato,
what he was about to say was ‘under one roof.’ Don’t you see it, man?
Colonel Vedant was taken from the hut last night to the home of Otto
Schilder.”
Cato looked puzzled. “Is Mr. Schilder one of the gang, too?” he
demanded.
“No.” He hesitated, then added, in a lower tone: “But, as I have known
from the beginning, a member of Schilder’s household has long been on
terms of clandestine friendship with this man Dabney, or Rezonoff. She has,
in fact, been his chief aid in all this matter.”
“She?” Cato glanced at him.
“Yes; Mrs. Schilder. There is no longer any use in trying to protect her,
for I gather from the circumstances that her husband already knows all. To
my mind, that is the explanation of his summoning Appleby to his office this
afternoon, and of the conference of officers at the house to-night. He
probably wants to arrange some plan to hush the affair up with as little
scandal as possible.
“I should not be surprised, too,” he went on, “to learn that it was Miss
Vedant who discovered the secret of the colonel’s presence in the house; for
she is quick-witted enough to have outgeneraled even so crafty a schemer as
that woman. Yes, that must be it,” he repeated; “she found it out and tried to
communicate with me, but, failing in that, finally turned to Schilder.”
“Well, we’ll know for certain in a minute now,” said Cato, as the cab
halted under the porte-cochère; “for here we are.”
 The door swung open to them, as they climbed the steps.
“If you please, sir,” the man who admitted them said to Grail, “Miss
Vedant wishes to see you at once. Will you follow me? She is in madame’s
boudoir.” Then, with less ceremony, he directed Sergeant Cato to accompany
another man to a room belowstairs.
Up a softly carpeted flight Grail was led by his guide, and along the hall;
then the man, drawing aside heavy portières, disclosed a room suffused with
a dim, rosy light.
Grail took a step forward, but halted as he saw no one there. Before he
could turn, however, he was dealt a stunning blow over the head. He reeled,
threw up his hands to clutch vainly at the air, then felt himself falling, and
knew no more.
 CHAPTER XXVIII.

A MEETING.

As Meredith Vedant had halted, fear-stricken, paralyzed with terror at her

startling discovery in the lonely attic, a sudden flash of lightning from the
rising storm blazed down through the windows overhead, and for a second
illuminated the face of the prostrate prisoner.
It was Ormsby Grail!
Instantly her trepidation, the swooning weakness she had felt coming
over her, was gone, swallowed up, like her feminine apprehensions in
coming to the place, in a greater emotion.
He was in danger. He was bound and helpless. He needed her aid.
Hurriedly she flung herself down beside him, and wrenched away the gag
from his lips, meanwhile calling on him breathlessly to tell her what had
happened.
But he made no answer. His head rolled from side to side at her touch.
She drew back with a gasp. Was he dead? But no; a long-drawn sigh, and
the beating of his heart as she laid her ear to his chest, reassured her on that
point.
Still, he was insensible, injured—perhaps fatally. He must have proper
aid and attention at once; and where could she get it in this house, which was
only too evidently dominated by his enemies and hers?
For a moment her head drooped helplessly; then, with quick recollection,
she sprang to the wireless instrument.
Feverishly she twisted the knobs, and sent in call after call to the post; but
her only response was an ear-splitting crackling and snapping. There was too
much electricity in the air; the “static” was baffling her.
Still, useless though she knew the attempt to be, she kept on sending the
call, until at last she was interrupted by the sound of a mutter behind her,
and, turning, saw, in the lightning flashes, Grail halfway up on one elbow.
“That chemist is crazy”—his words came jerkily—“that wasn’t what he
said it was; that was a picric-acid compound, and the Russians are adepts
with picric. Why didn’t I think of that before?”
The girl sprang toward him. “Ormsby! Ormsby!” she cried, slipping her
arm under him and supporting his head on her shoulder. “Tell me you are not
badly hurt!”
But he paid no heed. His befogged brain had room only for the
calculations upon which he was engaged.
“I understand the trick about the typewriting, too, now,” he went on. “In
case the explosive failed to work, they had another come-back. By imitating
the defects of Schilder’s typewriter, and using his letterhead, they could
always, as a last resource, throw suspicion on him. I’ll bet, though, the
woman was responsible for that touch, Cato; she is just the sort to——”
He halted suddenly, realizing, as his wits cleared, that it was not Cato’s
strong arm supporting him, nor Cato’s gruff voice so beseechingly imploring
him.
He raised his head bewilderedly to see, and a kindly flash of lightning
showed him her face.
“Meredith!” he exclaimed. “Are you a prisoner, too?”
“No, no!” she cried. “I am here to help you, if I can. But tell me first that
you are not hurt?”
“Hurt?” he scoffed, although as a matter of fact his head was still dazed
and ringing from the blow it had received. “Help me loosen this strap about
my feet, and I’ll show you how little I am hurt.”
Then, while she relieved him of his remaining bonds, and assisted him to
stand, he drew from her the story of how she had happened to come to his
rescue.
“My dear girl,” he murmured tenderly, and although neither of them
could tell just how it happened, another moment found them in each other’s
arms.
 CHAPTER XXIX.

THE WAY.

“We are neglecting the colonel!” said Grail presently. “Come, we must
lose no time in releasing him.”
“Father?” She stared at him.
“Yes. I am satisfied that he is somewhere here, held a prisoner just as I
was.”
As he spoke, he began lighting matches, and holding them above his
head; and in a moment he caught sight of the strong room, with its iron-
sheathed door.
“What is that?” he inquired. Then, as Meredith told him, he stepped over
to inspect it.
Meredith hesitated. “But, Ormsby,” she faltered, “the place is full of rats.
I heard them when I stood at the door to-day.”
“It was not rats, my dear. It was doubtless your father trying to attract
your attention. It was an ideal place of incarceration, and they have had him
here ever since last night, when you saw the two men leave in the
automobile, whom you took for burglars.”
Thus assured, Meredith lost no time in opening the door herself; it was
fastened merely by a heavy bolt, and the lock was broken; but, to Grail’s
intense surprise, although there was ample evidence there of a recent
prisoner, the place was empty.
“By Jove!” ejaculated Grail, glancing about at the iron-sheathed walls,
and high-up, narrow window. “Impossible as it seems, the colonel must have
managed to escape. How any one of his build, though, could have——”
He ceased at the abrupt, warning clutch of Meredith’s hand on his arm.
“Some one is coming!” she whispered tensely.
Grail thrust her behind him, and, closing the door of the strong room to a
crack, listened. Unquestionably there were footsteps on the stairs, and
looking out he could see the gleam of an electric flash light playing against
the ceiling. What new danger menaced them now?
 The steps came on; the ray of the flash light descended until it spread
across the floor; then Grail received one of the surprises of his life.
Through the door, breathing a little heavily from their climb, came Otto
Schilder and Colonel Vedant.
They paused at the threshold, a trifle perplexedly; then came on toward
the strong room.
“If they have put Grail in here, though,” muttered the colonel, “they must
have discovered my escape.”
The adjutant and Meredith waited no longer. Quickly stepping out, they
disclosed themselves; and, while Meredith went to her father’s arms, Grail
obtained from Schilder some rather enlightening explanations.
“My wife, you must understand, Captain Grail,” said the foundryman,
“has a brother, Ivan Rezonoff, to whom she is devotedly attached, but whom,
on account of his profession, I have forbidden her to have anything to do
with. I am a loyal American citizen, and I stand for no spying by the
emissaries of any foreign government. Recently, though, I learned that
Rezonoff was in Brentford under an assumed name; and before I could make
up my mind just what course to take in the matter, the colonel’s abduction
occurred.
“I was satisfied that Rezonoff had engineered it,” he continued, “from the
fact that my wife had induced me to employ several of her countrymen at the
plant; but I determined to say nothing until I could confirm my suspicions.
Last night I discovered that my brother-in-law and two other men had
secretly visited the house, and by putting two and two together I finally
reached the conclusion that it was for the purpose of secreting the colonel on
these premises. I could find out nothing from the servants, since they are all
under Mrs. Schilder’s domination; but by conducting a quiet search on my
own hook, I eventually found the colonel, released him, and for the last two
hours have had him in my apartment, restoring him and getting him in shape
after his experiences.
“I also kept on the watch for developments in the meantime,” he went on,
“and by cross-examining one of the footmen who appeared to me to be
acting suspiciously, forced him to confess what had befallen you and your
companion. The colonel and I then came here at once to liberate you; and
since the sergeant, as I understand, is in the cellar, we will proceed there at
once to set him free, also.
 “First, however”—he turned so as to include the colonel in his remarks
—“I wish to consult you gentlemen in regard to future steps. I make no plea
for Rezonoff, of course; he must be dealt with as you see fit. But I do hope
that some way can be found to cover up Mrs. Schilder’s folly, and——”
“Don’t worry about that, dear Otto,” interrupted a taunting voice from the
head of the stairs. “The way is here!”
 CHAPTER XXX.

THE EXPIATION.

Turning in the flood of light which suddenly burst on them, the surprised
four saw Rezonoff and his accomplice, Pepernik, each with a flash light in
one hand and a big revolver in the other. Catlike, the Russians had crept up
the stairs, and had caught their quarry napping.
“Hands up, there!” Rezonoff snapped. “I don’t believe any of you are
armed, but all the same, I am taking no chances. Pepernik, step over and
search those men.”
The ceremony concluded to his satisfaction, he lowered his gun, and,
stepping forward, swept the faces in front of him with a grin of malicious
triumph.
“Rats in a trap, eh?” His tone was savage, pitiless. “Well, like rats you
shall perish. The old man there was to have been my only victim; but since
you all have—what is the American phrase? Ah, yes—‘butted in,’ you will
all—even you, Otto—have to share his fate. I shall lock you all in up here,
and then set fire to the house. Already there are inflammables in every room
below, the nearest fire-alarm boxes are disconnected, and all surrounding
telephone wires cut. The blaze will get a rare start, I assure you.”
Involuntarily, Schilder, Meredith, and her father recoiled before such
fiendish malice. Only Grail held himself unmoved.
“Ah, captain?” The Russian turned to him. “You doubt me, eh? You don’t
think I will do what I say? Well, I will show you. I go now to set the torch.”
“No; I don’t think so!” There was something in Grail’s quiet tone which
held the other in spite of himself.
“I won’t, eh? Why not?”
“Because, despite the cleverness of the note you sent me to-night, I
suspected it was a forgery, and left it with the telegraph operator at the fort,
instructing him, in case it disappeared, to transmit without delay a dispatch I
left with him at the same time.
 “The dispatch,” he continued, “was to our secretary of state at
Washington, giving a full account of your acts of the past three days, and
asking him to communicate them to the Russian ambassador. So, Captain
Rezonoff, inasmuch as you have already exceeded your instructions, and, as
the agent of your government, been guilty of an outrage which must
seriously embarrass the Russian foreign office, I do not think you will care
to go to such extremes as you threaten.”
The emissary’s face paled. He knew what it meant to fail in such a
mission as he had undertaken—to be recalled in disgrace.
“The Russian government,” Grail added pointedly, “will hardly
countenance criminal acts on the part of one of its emissaries, done for
purposes of private revenge. More than that, Rezonoff, you know that the
affair in which Colonel Vedant was involved, many years ago, in Russia,
affected his honor, and that he acquitted himself with honor. Your present
attempts at a belated revenge are the acts of a vindictive and dishonorable
man. It looks very bad for you!”
Captain Rezonoff took a step forward, and gazed at Grail anxiously. “Has
that message been sent to Washington?” he asked chokingly.
“Many hours ago, I believe,” returned Grail quietly. “It has surely been
sent if your forged letter disappeared, as you planned to have it, and if the
——”
But there was no need for Grail to say more. There came to their ears a
swish of silken skirts on the stairway, and Mrs. Schilder, in an elaborate
dinner gown, but pale and agitated, burst in upon them.
She paid no heed to any of the others, but swiftly singling out her brother,
thrust a telegram toward him.
He gave one glance at it, then, crumpling it in his hand, dropped it to the
floor.
“What does it mean, Ivan?” the woman cried, clinging to him
hysterically. “What does it mean?”
He put her away from him, nodding over his shoulder to Schilder to take
her.
“Believe me, gentlemen”—he swept the group with a glance—“my sister
had no idea of my full intentions. She thought it only ordinary secret-service
work, and was chiefly concerned with fear that her husband would find out
what she was doing. I deceived her as to my object. Russia has no use for
failures! I know what my duty is!”
And, before any one could intervene, he moved briskly out of the attic
and down the stairs.
“Quick!” cried Colonel Vedant. “The man will escape!”
Grail raised a restraining hand. “I don’t think he cares to get away,” he
said quietly.
The look in the adjutant’s face held them all spellbound. Mrs. Schilder
clung to her husband, her face as white as chalk. Pepernik, the conspirator,
stood silent and nonplussed, making no effort to leave the room. Every eye
was upon him when suddenly, from below, in one of the larger apartments,
came the muffled report of a revolver.
Mrs. Schilder swooned, without a cry. Meredith Vedant gazed with
fascination, silently, at the imperturbable countenance of the adjutant. The
colonel and the adjutant, grim fighting men, turned cold, inquiring looks
upon the white and trembling Pepernik. The man seemed to feel their
question, and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of helplessness. “I—I
have not the courage of Captain Rezonoff,” he muttered. “I surrender. Send
for your police.”
Grail took the revolver which the man held out weakly, then turned and
went downstairs to the telephone.

THE END.
 AN ODD GHOST STORY.
“It is strange,” said my grandfather one winter’s evening, as we sat by the
log fire, roasting chestnuts and watching the flames leaping and dancing in
harmony with the music of the crackling of the fuel and the bursting of the
nuts. “I was saying, Tom, that it was strange that the trivial incidents and
events of one’s early life stand out so clearly through all the years that have
slipped by, and seem as vivid and real as the things of yesterday.”
Then grandfather stopped and looked at the fire, evidently in deep
thought, from which we children knew from past experience he would
evolve some story which would call for all our interest and attention.
And so it proved, for, rousing himself suddenly, he hurried into a
narrative at once strange and interesting.
“Yes,” he said, “ghost stories are, as a rule, capable of explanation. I
know it for a fact. If only those who see the apparition were to exert a little
presence of mind, it would be possible for them to solve what they
precipitately put down as supernatural and mysterious.
“I remember when I was a young man that I received an urgent invitation
from a very valued friend to spend a couple of weeks at his father’s house at
Mobberley. Of course, I responded most willingly, the more so that I had
never been to his place before, although I had heard much of it. We traveled
by coaches in those days, and a journey from London to the north of
Lincolnshire was no unconsidered trifle, I can assure you. However, in a few
days I found myself speeding up the drive which led to the ancestral home of
the Arden Howard family, and was, in truth, highly gratified at the hearty
reception my friend and his people extended to me.
“There was no event of unusual interest for some days. Hunting,
shooting, and skating parties were organized, and in a downright old-
fashioned way we young people did justice to the entertainment so lavishly
provided.
“But it so happened that one day during the first week of my stay, and
some few days before Christmas, I met with a slight accident while on the
ice, and a sprained ankle prevented me from further indulging in outside
sports for the remainder of my stay. Nevertheless, I insisted that my inability
to join them should in no way deter my companions from following their
own sweet will. Thus it happened that one evening I was the sole occupant
of the great hall, which was, in point of fact, the largest room in the whole
house, and a most imposing apartment it was. The lofty ceiling was
supported by massive beams of oak finely carved, and blackened by the
smoke of centuries, while hanging round its walls were some of the most
beautiful tapestries I have ever seen. At intervals were placed suits of armor,
shields, swords, spears, and other warlike implements, which shone and
glistened in the glow of the immense fire which burned in the open hearth.
“For a while I had occupied myself with a book, sitting far back in the
chimney corner, in order to avoid, as much as possible, the drafts which
seemed to steal upon one from all quarters; but as it grew dusk I threw it
aside, and fell into a state of musing, which must have lasted some
considerable time, since I found afterward that my pipe, which I had just
filled, was empty when I roused myself. The immediate cause of my arousal
is the point of my tale, which is most interesting and curious. I was, as I said,
sitting far in the chimney recess—where the light of the fire, which made
more or less visible the whole of the room, was unable to penetrate—and
was speculating on the various objects of interest the place contained, when
a door at the farther end of the room was cautiously opened, and a figure
arrayed in a garment of white noiselessly entered and glided over the stone
floor. It came straight across the apartment, and casting a furtive glance
round, took from its place on the wall what in the distance seemed a long
dagger, and in another moment it was gone—disappearing, it would seem,
behind the tapestry hangings.
“You may judge I was somewhat startled at the apparition, yet being
curious to see for myself what further would happen, I sat immovable for the
period of—it may have been—fifteen minutes, when I was both shocked and
horrified to see the figure return, with the same noiseless tread, clutching the
dagger in its hand; while the drapery, the hand, and the dagger itself were
now covered with stains of blood. Before replacing it, however, the figure
wiped the blade upon its dress, and left thereon a most ghastly and appalling
stain. Then, with a significant, almost noiseless laugh, it withdrew as it had
come. If I was startled at first, you may judge that the ‘creepy’ sensation was
not a little augmented by the second appearance, and I had come to no
satisfactory solution of the matter, when my friend, returning, entered the
hall, and burst into an excited account of his afternoon’s sport.
 “That night I questioned the family as to the ghostly visitor, but found
that the house was quite free from any such tradition, not even possessing, as
most old country houses do, a haunted chamber; and the family were as
much astonished at my vision as I was myself. They had never heard of any
such apparition, and for some time stoutly held that I had fallen asleep and
dreamed the whole thing. Finally it was agreed that on the following day
Herbert and I should watch together, and accordingly, at the same hour next
day, we stationed ourselves in the chimney recess to await events; but we
waited in vain.
“Three days we watched thus, and for three days I endured the good-
natured banter of the whole family; but on the fourth day—Christmas Eve—
our patience was rewarded, for scarcely had we settled into comfortable
shape, when the ghost walked. Never shall I forget my companion’s face as
the door opened, disclosing the form swathed in white. Hitherto he had been
skeptical, and was the most aggressive of my many tormentors; yet I can
now see how his eyes became fixed and his ruddy face paled before the
dimly outlined form, which, with many a sidelong, cautious glance, neared
the spot it had visited when I first observed it. So still and deathlike was the
silence, that the crackling of the log startled us, and I believe we both felt as
though ‘our each particular hair’ was standing on end, as the white arm of
the figure drew out the dagger from its sheath; it certainly is true we drew
breath more easily when the door was once more closed. Still, we were
determined to unravel the mystery, and so with tremulous steps we followed
our unearthly visitant. Herbert was familiar with the passage along which we
hurried, through a concealed door, into a large courtyard, from which the
various outbuildings were entered.
“There was just light enough to enable us to discern the movements of the
object we were tracking. Leaving the yard, it entered a building opposite our
point of observation. Immediately there was a scuffling sound as of some
one struggling, and, terrified and alarmed, we rushed across the yard. What a
spectacle we beheld! Never shall I forget the sight which met our gaze. The
figure in white was stooping over a living form, which emitted the most
horrifying cries and sounds that ever fell on mortal ears. One hand was on
the throat, and in the other was the uplifted weapon of destruction.
“As we looked we seemed to gain fresh courage, and rushed forward to
prevent, if possible, the coming blow, but as we entered, the hand dropped,
and the dagger entered the throat. Then, with one terrible shriek and an
unavailing struggle, the eyes closed and the living, animate form became
forever still. There, facing us, stood the form in white, with the dreadful
instrument now dripping blood still in his hands. Yet neither of us moved
until, with a strange gesture, it spoke thus: ‘Oh, Mr. Herbert, sir; please, sir;
indeed, sir; I’m awful sorry, sir, that I used this, sir, but them other knives
ain’t a bit sharp, an’ them ’ere suckin’ pigs wants to be dealt with quicklike.
An’ please, sir, don’t tell master as ’ow I used this, or ’e’ll be after giving me
notice to quit. An’ please, sir, indeed, Mr. Herbert, sir, I’ll never do it agen,
sir.’
“The fact of the matter was, that the cook, having to provide sucking pigs
for dinner, clandestinely purloined one of the sharpest instruments, in order
to overcome, as speedily as possible, the obstacles which lay in the way of
pig killing. His white blouse and apron in the dim, uncertain firelight,
together with his strange and uncanny conduct, had deluded us into the
belief that his appearance was of a supernatural character.
“This is my ghost story, and I venture to believe that the majority of those
told would, if treated to a similar investigation, prove just as delusive.”
And my grandfather, having ended his tale, resumed once more his pipe,
and sat laughingly enjoying our somewhat amusing criticism of his story of
the cook’s ghost.
 A KING WHO WANTED FRESH AIR.
Not long ago there was terrible excitement at the royal court of Annam.
The king, Thanh Tai, who is now fourteen years old, was missing. Etiquette
requires that the Annamese king shall never leave the royal grounds. He is a
kingly prisoner.
But the young potentate was not hard to find. Though he was a king, he
was a boy; and it is natural for a boy, when he has some money in his
pocket, to want to go out and spend it.
That was exactly what the King of Annam had done. Entirely alone, he
had started on a “shopping” expedition through the streets of Hue. Of course,
no one knew him, because he had never shown his face in public. He was
simply a boy, like any boy; and this was exactly what he wanted.
But he was treated with great respect by the shopkeepers, because he
seemed to have plenty of money. Curiously enough, the thing which seemed
to attract him most was a head-shearing machine, or hair clipper, and when
the frightened nobles of the court discovered him at last, it was with this
singular implement in his possession.
He had already begun to experiment with it on the heads of several small
street boys, who were proving rebellious subjects, when the courtiers
approached him, prostrating themselves upon the ground, and making
alarmed outcries.
The king no longer goes out shopping, but he retains his hair clipper as a
souvenir of a happy day of freedom with the street boys.
 THE FLAGSTAFF ON THE TOWER.

By WARREN BELL.

“Well,” said Mr. Grafton, as he pushed his chair back from the breakfast
table, “I think you’ve seen everything there is to be seen in such an out-of-
the-way place. Now, Harry, are you sure you’ve shown your friend
everything?”
Harry Grafton was my great chum, and I was spending a part of the
vacation with him. On hearing his father’s question, he puckered up his brow
and gave his not usually overtaxed brain a little exercise.
“Let’s see,” he replied, “you’ve seen the town hall and the old powder
mill, my rabbits, the bridge, and the lake. Yes, he’s seen everything, father.”
“But he hasn’t been up the tower yet!” put in Jack Grafton, a young imp
of ten summers—and other seasons—who faithfully followed his brother
and myself about wherever we went.
Mr. Grafton’s beautiful country house was built of stone, with a tower at
one corner. This tower was very high and intersected with little windows
here and there.
“No, that he hasn’t!” exclaimed Harry, pleased at the idea of having
something else left to show me. “If you’ll let me have the keys, father, we’ll
go at once.”
Mr. Grafton hesitated before procuring the needful keys.
“You must be very careful,” he said; “and, Harry, my boy, you mustn’t
play any foolhardy pranks up there. Jack, I shan’t allow you to go at all.”
Jack looked doleful as Mr. Grafton handed over the keys to his eldest son,
who promptly led the way to the tower.
With some difficulty Harry opened the massive door of the edifice, and
just as we were commencing our ascent on the spiral staircase we heard a
patter of small feet behind us, and, on looking round, observed that Jack,
unknown to his father, had managed to get into the tower as well, by means,
as he explained, of a side door which had been left open by some servant.
 At first his elder brother was for sending him back, but the little chap
pleaded so hard to be allowed to accompany us, that at length Harry yielded
to his entreaties, and we continued our journey up the tower, Harry leading
the way, myself next, and Jack last.
After a toilsome and dusty climb, we at length emerged on the roof of the
tower, from which post of vantage we could see the country for many miles
round.
But neither Harry nor Jack troubled themselves much about the view.
Delighted at being in such an exalted position, young Jack scampered about
the leaden roof in a most frisky manner, while Harry took in his
surroundings with all the gusto of a sixteen-year-old schoolboy. After a time
they fell to cutting their initials on the leadwork, and, this done, looked about
them for a fresh source of amusement. They were not long in finding one.
In the center of the tower had been erected a tall and noble-looking
flagstaff. On the morning in question no flag was flying, only the staff and
its cordage being visible.
Harry, looking round for something fresh for his “idle hands to do,” spied
the vacant staff, and at once came to the conclusion that, as no flag was to
hand, something in the shape of one should be made to float in the air in
recognition of my visit to the village. So he quickly collected all the
handkerchiefs and ties appertaining to the trio, knotted them together, and in
a very short time had run them up to the top of the flagstaff, where they
floated defiantly in the breeze.
Small Jack clapped his hands with delight, and, climbing a little way up
the staff, began to lower and raise the impromptu flag with a too energetic
rapidity, for, on running it swiftly up to the top, the cord got entangled in
some way, with the result that the string of ties and handkerchiefs remained
fixed at the top of the staff, some eighteen feet out of our reach.
“Well, you are a young idiot, Jack!” exclaimed his elder brother angrily.
“See what you’ve done!”
The young gentleman addressed had no need to look, for he was fully
aware of the magnitude of his crime.
“The cord has come off the roller,” I remarked.
“Yes,” said Harry. “The same thing happened a year ago last Fourth of
July, and Tom Cartwright, one of the gardeners, had to climb to the top of
the staff and put it right.”
 “It’s rather a slender pole to bear a man’s weight,” I said.
“Yes,” said Harry, “everybody thought it was a risky thing to do; but
Tom’s a light chap, and he managed it all right. Father gave him two dollars,
I remember, for his pluck.”
Harry stopped speaking, and we all three gazed at the far-away ties and
handkerchiefs.
“Father will be awfully angry,” said Harry; “and, by Jove! Jack, you’ll get
it for coming up when he told you not to.”
Jack was looking exceedingly troubled at this piece of information, when
a voice in our rear observed:
“Well, young gentlemen, this is a pretty piece of work!”
We turned round quickly, and perceived that a grimy head, clad in a rough
tweed cap, had been poked through the trapdoor which led onto the top of
the tower, and that a pair of brown eyes belonging to the same was watching
us with considerable interest.
“Oh, Tom, is that you?” exclaimed Harry. “This is the very man I was
telling you about,” he continued, turning to me.
Tom Cartwright, after showing us his head, next proceeded to manifest
that he possessed a body and a complete set of limbs, by hoisting himself
through the trap and standing upright on the roof.
“I’ve been mending a window,” he explained, “and saw you go up the
staircase, although you didn’t see me.”
“How are we to get it down?” asked Harry despondingly, pointing to his
flag.
Tom jerked and pulled the ropes for some little time, and at length gave it
as his opinion that nothing short of “climbin’ would do it.”
“Look here, Tom,” said Harry desperately, “if you’ll climb up and get
those things down, I’ll give you all the money I have—fifty cents.”
“And I’ll give you ten cents,” chimed in Jack, putting a grubby little hand
in his pocket and pulling out the sum in question.
“I don’t want your money, Master Harry,” said the gardener sturdily, “and
if I did, I don’t think I could earn it, as I doubt if this pole ’u’d bear me now.
I’m heavier than I was a year ago, and the pole’s not so tough.”
“Oh, it’ll bear you,” said Harry. “You see Tom, I don’t want father to
know anything about this.”
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

testbankbell.com