called, putting his mouth close to one of the holes.

The kitten turned around in surprise. He hardly knew from whence the
voice came, but he evidently knew Bert was calling, for he soon came in
that direction.

As the barn was an old one and not fit to use, Bert felt it would do no
harm to knock a shingle or two from the roof. Looking around, he espied
a stout stick of wood lying on the floor and with this he began an
attack on the shingles and soon had two of them broken away.

"Come, Snoop!" he called, looking out of the hole. "Come here!"

But the sound of the blows had frightened the kitten, and Snoop had fled
to the slope of the roof on the opposite side of the barn.

"Where is he?" called the boy, to the twins below.

"Gone to the other side," said Freddie. "Don't like the noise, I guess."

"Chase him over here," returned Bert.

Both Freddie and Flossie tried to do so. But Snoop would not budge, but
stood on the very edge of the roof, as if meditating a spring to the
ground.

"Don't jump, please don't jump, Snoop!" pleaded Flossie. "If you jump
you'll surely break a leg, or maybe your back!"

Whether Snoop understood this or not, it would be hard to say. But he
did not jump, only stayed where he was and meowed louder than ever.

"Can't you drive him over?" asked Bert, after a long wait.

"Won't come," said Freddie. "Wants to jump down, I guess."

Hearing this, Bert ran down to the lower floor and outside.

"Can't you get a ladder?" asked Flossie. "Perhaps Mr. Roscoe will lend
you one."

Mr. Roscoe lived at the other end of the common. He was a very old and
very quiet man, and the majority of the girls and boys in Lakeport were
afraid of him. He lived all alone and was thought to be queer.

"I--I can see," said Bert hesitatingly.

He ran across the common to Mr. Roscoe's house and rapped on the door.
Nobody came and he rapped again, and then a third time.

"Who's there?" asked a voice from within.

"Please, Mr. Roscoe, is that you?" asked Bert.

"Yes."

"Well, our kitten is on the top of your old barn and can't get down. Can
you lend me a ladder to get him down with?"

"Kitten on my barn? How did he get there?" and now the old man opened
the door slowly and cautiously. He was bent with age and had white hair
and a long white beard.

"He went up with a kite," said Bert, and explained the case, to which
the old man listened with interest.

"Well! well! well!" exclaimed Mr. Roscoe, in a