but without conviction. It was
his custom to tear up to this house a dozen times a week, on his
father's old horse or afoot; he was wont to yell for Champe as he
approached, and quarrel joyously with her while he performed such
errand as he had come upon; but he was gagged and hamstrung now by the
hypnotism of Abner's scheme.

"'Walk quietly up the steps; ring the bell and lay your card on the
servant,'" quoted Abner, who had never heard of a server.

"'Lay your card on the servant!'" echoed Ross. "Cady'd dodge. There's
a porch to cross after you go up the steps--does it say anything about
that?"

"It says that the card should be placed on the servant," Abner
reiterated, doggedly. "If Cady dodges, it ain't any business of mine.
There are no porches in my book. Just walk across it like anybody.
We'll ask for Miss Champe Claiborne."

"We haven't got any cards," discovered Ross, with hope.

"I have," announced Abner, pompously. "I had some struck off in
Chicago. I ordered 'em by mail. They got my name Pillow, but there's a
scalloped gilt border around it. You can write your name on my card.
Got a pencil?"

He produced the bit of cardboard; Ross fished up a chewed stump of
lead pencil, took it in cold, stiff fingers, and disfigured the square
with eccentric scribblings.

"They'll know who it's meant for," he said, apologetically, "because
I'm here. What's likely to happen after we get rid of the card?"

"I told you about hanging your hat on the rack and disposing your
legs."

"I remember now," sighed Ross. They had been going slower and slower.
The angle of inclination toward each other became more and more
pronounced.

"We must stand by each other," whispered Abner.

"I will--if I can stand at all," murmured the other boy, huskily.

"Oh, Lord!" They had rounded the big clump of evergreens and found
Aunt Missouri Claiborne placidly rocking on the front porch! Directed
to mount steps and ring bell, to lay cards upon the servant, how
should one deal with a rosy-faced, plump lady of uncertain years in a
rocking-chair. What should a caller lay upon her? A lion in the way
could not have been more terrifying. Even retreat was cut off. Aunt
Missouri had seen them. "Howdy, boys; how are you?" she said, rocking
peacefully. The two stood before her like detected criminals.

Then, to Ross's dismay, Abner sank down on the lowest step of the
porch, the westering sun full in his hopeless eyes. He sat on his cap.
It was