“Right away.  Please carry it out just as I said.  You ought to be back here inside of six or seven minutes; and I guess that will be time enough before the circus begins, Jack.”

So the owner of the little den at the top of the house gave his chum one last look of bewilderment, and turning, hastened down the stairs.

Paul, with a glance around, chose a certain corner for his hiding-place.  Here he could see without exposing himself to view; and squatting down he prepared to await developments.

A minute later he got up, and moved an old screen partly across the floor, so that it hid the open door.  When Jack returned, he could crawl alongside the hiding boy without showing himself to any one in the room, or beyond the window.

Hardly had five minutes crept by when Paul heard a slight sound.  It came from the stairs, and he smiled, knowing that his chum had lost no time in carrying out his part of the plot.

So Jack came sliding in, and was soon nestling down at Paul’s side, brimming over with curiosity, yet deterred from asking questions by the fact that Paul had put up a warning finger.

Several more minutes passed by, when Jack was thrilled to see something moving in the direction of the partly open window.  It seemed to be a long cane fishing rod, that had a dark colored lump at the end of it.

The rod continued to advance slowly into the den.  It was, of course, in the hands of some one perched in the window of the attic belonging to the empty house so close by; and Jack could easily guess now who that person must be.

Scissors Dempsey, once his friend, but latterly a crony of Ted Slavin!

Now the end of the rod seemed to hover above the little box containing all that were left of Jack’s old coins.  And even as he and Paul looked they saw it descend until the light box was tilted partly over, when the point of the long rod was pushed into it vigorously.  Jack was reminded somewhat of a human hand groping about.  And then, as the fishing pole was rapidly withdrawn, he saw one of his few remaining old coins sticking to the black lump at its terminus!

The game was now clear.  Scissors, inspired by a love of fun, or a desire to mystify Jack, perhaps make him suspect that one of his chums was taking the coins, had come every day into this empty house belonging to his father.  Whenever he found the window in Jack’s den open he amused himself with this strange fishing.

Paul beckoned to his chum, and then silently crept out of the den, which he was easily enabled to do, thanks to the screen he had placed to cover the open door.

Once down on the next landing Jack clutched his sleeve.

“Well, would you dream of such a thing as that?” exclaimed the latter, nearly ready to explode with laughter, yet feeling a bit angry at the same time.  “What under the sun d’ye suppose he’s doing such a stunt for, Paul?”