n the yard
for a whole week was punishment enough even if one exception was
permitted.

So Brother and Sister went down to the "big" theatre with Ralph the
next Saturday afternoon, and then they had to stay in their yard all
day Sunday and all day Monday, and after that they might again go where
they pleased.

"Let's go see if Norman Crane's aunt sent him a birthday present,"
suggested Sister the first morning they were free to leave the yard.

Norman Crane was a little friend who lived several blocks away, and
whose aunt in New York City sent him wonderful presents at Christmas
time and on his birthday. He had had a party a few days before, and of
course Brother and Sister could not go--all because they would go to
those unlucky movies!

Brother was willing to stop at Norman's house, but when they reached
there they found Norman had gone to the city with his mother for a
day's shopping.

"I smell tar," declared Brother, as they came down the steps and turned
into the street where Miss Putnam lived in the haunted house--only it
wasn't called that any longer. "Oh, look, Betty, they're mending
something."

There was a little group of children about a big pot of boiling tar and
workmen were mending the roofs of three or four houses that were built
exactly alike and were owned by the same man. These houses were always
repaired and painted at the same time every year.

Nearest to the boiling pot--indeed, with his red head almost in the hot
steam--was the little boy Brother and Sister had noticed walking on
Miss Putnam's picket fence. A puddle of tar had splashed over on the
ground and the red-headed boy was stirring it with a stick held between
his bare toes.

"Now don't hang around here all day," said one of the workmen, kindly
enough. "Run away before you get burned. Hey, there, Red! Do you want
to blister your foot?"

The red-haired lad grinned mischievously.

"I'd hate to spoil my shoes," he jeered, "but you watch and I'll kick
over your old pot! I can, just as easy."

The other children drew nearer, half-believing the boy would tip over
the pot of boiling tar.

"Here," said another and younger workman, "if we give each of you a
little on a stick will you promise to go off and leave us in peace?"

There was an eager chorus of promises, and the good-natured young
roofer actually stuck a little ball of the soft tar on each stick
thrust at him and watched the small army of boys and girls march up the
stre