Dick proceeded to remove a portion of the stones forming the wall.  It was not very easy or agreeable work, the stones being large and heavy.  At length he effected a gap which he thought would be large enough for the pigs to pass through.  He next considered whether it would be better to disturb the slumbers of the pigs by poking them with a hoe, or wait and let them find out the avenue of escape in the morning.  He finally decided to stir them up.  He accordingly went round to the door and, seizing a hoe, commenced punching one of the pigs vigorously.

The pig whose slumbers were thus rudely disturbed awoke with a loud grunt, and probably would have looked astonished and indignant if nature had given him the power of expressing such emotions.

“Get out, there, you lazy beast,” exclaimed Dick.

The pig, as was perhaps only natural under the circumstances, seemed reluctant to get up, and was by no means backward in grunting his discontent.  Dick was earnestly engaged in overcoming his repugnance to locomotion, when he was startled by hearing the door of the building, which he had carefully closed, open slowly.  Looking up hastily, the hoe still in his hand, his dismayed glance fell upon Frank Frost, entering with a lantern.

A half-exclamation of surprise and dismay escaped him.  This called the attention of Frank, who till that moment was unsuspicious of Dick’s presence.

“Dick Bumstead!” he exclaimed, as soon as he recognized the intruder.  “What brings you here at this time of night?”

“A mean errand, Frank,” returned Dick, with a wholesome feeling of shame.  He had made up his mind to a confession.

“You didn’t come here to—­to——­” Here Frank stopped short.

“No, not to steal.  I ain’t quite so mean as that comes to.  I come to let out your pigs, so that in the morning you would have a long chase after them.”

“But what could put such a thing into your head, Dick?” asked Frank, in great surprise.

“I thought it would be a good joke.”

“It wouldn’t have been much of a joke to me,” said Frank.

“No; and to tell the truth it wouldn’t have been to me.  The fact is, and I don’t mind telling it, that I should never have thought of such a thing if somebody else hadn’t put it into my head.”

“Somebody else?”

“Yes; I’d a little rather not tell who that somebody is, for I don’t believe he would like to have you know.”

“Why didn’t he come himself?” asked Frank.  “It seems to me he’s been making a catspaw of you.”

“A catspaw?”

“Yes, haven’t you read the story?  A monkey wanted to draw some chestnuts out of the hot ashes, but, feeling a decided objection to burning his own paws in the operation, drew a cat to the fire and thrust her paw in.”

“I don’t know but it’s been so in my case,” said Dick.  “I didn’t want to do it, and that’s a fact.  I felt as mean as could be when I first came into your yard to-night.  But he offered me two dollars to do it, and it’s so seldom I see money that it tempted me.”