t gate of the Finbrink yard Tom's keen
eyes noted a brick lying on the grass. As that was just what
he wanted, he pounced upon it.

"Now, Timmy, do you know where you can find a fairly good-sized
bottle---without going into the house or taking the risk of being
seen by your father?"

"Yes; there's one back of the house, with the ashes," Timmy answered
eagerly.

"Go and get it, and don't make any noise."

Timmy disappeared in the darkness beyond, but soon returned carrying
an empty quart bottle.

"Good enough!" whispered Reade, eyeing the bottle with cordial
interest. Then he noiselessly approached the house, laying the
brick on the grass under one of the front windows.

"Now, Timmy, you slip around to the back of the house," whispered
the young schemer. "Just as soon as you hear a crash you watch
your swiftest chance to slip into the house and upstairs to bed.
Understand?"

"Sure! What you-----"

"Don't stop to ask questions. Get on your mark and look out for
your own best interests!"

Rejoicing in the possession of such a valuable ally as Tom Reade,
Timmy vanished in the darkness. Tom Reade waited until he judged
that the youngster must be in position near the back door. Now
Tom gripped the bottle in his left hand, crouching over the brick.

With his felt hat in his right hand, Tom reached up, hitting a
window pane smartly with the hat. At the same instant he brought
the bottle crashing down over the brick.

As the bottle smashed against the brick Mr. Finbrink, in the dining
room of the house, jumped up so quickly that he dropped his pipe.

"Some young rascal has smashed a front window!" he gasped, as
he bolted into the parlor.

That was just what the noise had sounded like, and Tom Reade had
intended that it should do so.

"I'll catch the young scamp!" gasped Mr. Finbrink, making a rush
for the front door, which he pulled open.

Pausing an instant, he heard the sound of running feet in the
distance.

"The young scoundrel went west, and he has a good start," grunted
Mr. Finbrink, as he gave chase in that direction. "Hang it, I
don't believe I can catch him!"

That guess proved well founded. After running a short distance
Mr. Finbrink halted. He had not caught sight of the fugitive,
nor could he now hear the running steps.

"I wonder how many panes of glass the young scamp broke?" muttered
the irate Mr. Finbrink.

Retracing his steps quickly, Mr. Finbrink halted in front of his
h