THE TRAP

Hugh heard his chum through, and then quietly went on to say:

"Yes, I have got a little plan that ought to teach them a lesson, and
cool off their ardor a bit. In the first place, we can easily rig up a
small platform just above this window here. I've got several
stanchions and a board. It wouldn't take us more than half an hour to
complete it, I reckon. But we must make it extra strong, you know."

"But I don't know," pleaded Thad, helplessly. "Why should this lovely
little shelf up there be so strong? Are we going to perch on it, and
drop down on top of the night birds after they let themselves in? Is
that the game, Hugh?"

"Not quite, Thad. It's the tub that must balance up there!"

"Tub! Great Scott! are you figuring on giving Nick and Leon their
usual Saturday night bath?" gasped the other, still groping in the dark.

"Something like that," chuckled Hugh, "only it will be _such_ a
surprise to those chaps, and cold, too, ugh! as cold as ice can make
it."

"Go ahead and explain a lot more," Thad demanded. "I'm beginning to
get just an inkling of the game. Whew! I believe you've been reading
of the pranks the fellows play in the boarding schools, with a tub of
water suspended over a door, so that when an unlucky boy opens it he is
drenched to the skin."

"That's about the idea," Hugh acknowledged. "Nothing particularly
brilliant or original about it, I own up, but the best we can do under
the circumstances."

Then he went on to explain the particulars, showing Thad how the tub
could be balanced nicely, so that when a cord attached to it was
jerked, it would tilt over beautifully, discharging its full contents
without itself falling down.

Thad listened, and grunted. Plainly he was a bit disappointed.

"It sounds pretty good, Hugh," he admitted, finally, "and will of
course give the rascals a great scare; but seems to me as if it's
hardly vigorous enough. According to my mind, we ought to make the
punishment fit the crime. When a couple of low-down scamps try to kill
the dumb pets of a fellow who has never gone out of his way to harm
them, and are caught with the goods on, they ought to be treated to a
dozen good wipes with a cowhide whip, something that'll make 'em yell
bloody murder. But just as you say, we can try this dodge, and
discourage them from any more funny business around your coop."

"Then the sooner we start in and get busy, the better," suggested Hugh,
whose