William.

It was growing dusk when Mrs. Brown and Ethel and the second van load
appeared.

"What is that on the gate?" said Ethel, stooping to examine the part
of Jumble's coat that brightened up the dulness of the black paint.

"It's that _dog_!" she said.

Then came a ghost-like cry, apparently from the heavens.

"Mother!"

Mrs. Brown raised a startled countenance to the skies. There seemed to
be nothing in the skies that could have addressed her.

Then she suddenly saw a small face peering down over the coping of the
roof. It was a face that was very frightened, under a superficial
covering of soot. It was William's face.

"I can't get down," it said hoarsely.

Mrs. Brown's heart stood still.

"Stay where you are, William," she said faintly. "Don't _move_."

The entire staff of removers was summoned. A ladder was borrowed from
a neighbouring garden and found to be too short. Another was fetched
and fastened to it. William, at his dizzy height, was growing
irritable.

"I can't stay up here for _ever_," he said severely.

At last he was rescued by his friend Mr. Blake and brought down to
safety. His account was confused.

"I wanted to _help_. I wanted to open that door for 'em, so I climbed
up by the scullery roof, an' the ivy, an' the drain-pipe, an' I tried
to get down the chimney. I didn't know which one it was, but I tried
'em all an' they were all too little, an' I tried to get down by the
ivy again but I couldn't, so I waited till you came an' hollered out.
I wasn't scared," he said, fixing them with a stern eye. "I wasn't
scared a bit. I jus' wanted to get down. An' this ole black chimney
stuff tastes beastly. No, I'm all right," he ended, in answer to
tender inquiries. "I'll go on helpin'."

He was with difficulty persuaded to retire to bed at a slightly
earlier hour than usual.

"Well," he confessed, "I'm a bit tired with helpin' all day."

Soon after he had gone Mr. Brown and Robert arrived.

"And how have things gone to-day?" said Mr. Brown cheerfully.

"Thank heaven William goes to school to-morrow," said Ethel devoutly.

Upstairs in his room William was studying himself in the glass--torn
jersey, paint-stained trousers, blackened face.

"Well," he said with a deep sigh of satisfaction, "I guess I've jolly
well _helped_ to-day!"

CHAPTER XI

WILLIAM AND THE SMUGGLER

William's family were going to the seaside for February. It was not an
ideal month for the seaside, b