efore Mose gets back from hunting eggs," Dick
remarked, by way of explaining the long strides he took. "And of course
I'm taking it for granted, Ford, that you won't say anything. I kinda
thought you ought to know, maybe--but I'd never say a word if I didn't
feel pretty sure you'd keep it behind your teeth."

"Well--I'm waiting to see what it is," Ford replied non-committally.

Dick opened the kitchen door, and led Ford through that into the
bunk-room. "You wait here--I'm afraid Mose might come back," he said,
and went into the kitchen. When he returned he had a gallon jug in his
hand. He was still smiling.

"I went to mix me up some soda-water for heartburn," he said, "and when
I picked up this jug, Mose took it out of my hand and said it was boiled
cider, that he'd got for mince-meat. So when he went out, I took a
taste. Here: You sample it yourself, Ford. If that's boiled cider, I
wouldn't mind having a barrel!"

Ford took the jug, pulled the cork, and sniffed at the opening. He did
not say anything, but he looked up at Dick significantly.

"Taste it once!" urged Dick innocently. "I'd just like to have you see
the brand of slow poison a fool like Mose will pour down him."

Ford hesitated, sniffed, started to set down the jug, then lifted it and
took a swallow.

"That isn't as bad as some I've seen," he pronounced evenly, shoving in
the cork. "Nor as good," he added conservatively. "I wonder where he got
it."

"Search me--oh, by jiminy, here he comes! I'm going to take a scoot,
Ford. Don't give me away, will you? And if I was you, I wouldn't say
anything to Mose--I know that old devil pretty well. He'll keep mighty
quiet about it himself--unless you jump him about it. Then he'll roar
around to everybody he sees, and claim it was a plant."

He slid stealthily through the outer door, and Ford saw him run down
into the gully and disappear, while Mose was yet half-way from the
stable.

Ford sat on the edge of a bunk and looked at the jug beside him. If Dick
had deliberately planned to tempt him, he had chosen the time well; and
if he had not done it deliberately, there must have been a malignant
spirit abroad that day.

For twenty-four hours Ford had been more than usually restless and
moody. Even Buddy had noticed that, and complained that Ford was cross
and wouldn't talk to him; whereupon Mrs. Kate had scolded Josephine and
accused her of being responsible for his gloom and silence. Since
Josephine's consc