wide open.

Presently, chancing to look in the direction of the automobile house,
Dave saw somebody skulking along a hedge. The person was visible only a
second, so the youth could not make out who it was.

"Maybe it's all right, but I'll take a look and make sure," he told
himself, and excused himself to a girl to whom he had been talking. As
he hurried across the lawn he passed Phil.

"Come with me, will you?" he said, in a low voice.

"See anything?" demanded the shipowner's son.

"I saw somebody, but I am not sure who it was."

Taking care not to make his departure noticeable, Dave walked toward
the automobile house and Phil followed him. Soon the pair were behind
some rose bushes and then they gained the shelter of the heavy hedge.

"There he is!" said Dave, in a low voice. "It's Nat Poole, sure enough!"

"What's he doing?" asked Phil.

"Nothing just now. But I guess he is up to something."

Keeping well out of sight behind the hedge, the two boys watched the son
of the money-lender. Nat was sneaking past the automobile house and
making for a washing-shed adjoining the kitchen of the mansion.

"I think I know what he is up to," murmured Dave. "Come on after him,
Phil."

As silently as shadows Dave and Phil followed the money-lender's son to
the shed. Once Nat looked around to see if the coast was clear, and the
followers promptly dropped down behind a lilac bush. Reassured, Nat
entered the shed, and Dave and Phil tiptoed their way up and got behind
the open door.

The hired help were in the kitchen, so the shed was empty. On the floor
stood an ice-cream freezer full of home-made ice-cream, and on a shelf
rested several freshly baked cakes, all covered with chocolate icing,
set out to harden.

"Now I'll fix things," Dave and Phil heard the money-lender's son
mutter. "Salt in the cream and salt in the layer cakes will do the
trick! Some of the boys and girls will think they are poisoned!"

Nat took up a bag of salt that was handy,--used for making the
cream,--and proceeded to open the can in the freezer. Dave watched him
as a cat does a mouse.

Just as Nat was on the point of dumping some of the salt into the
ice-cream he felt himself jerked backwards. The salt dropped to the
floor, and Nat found himself confronting Dave, with Phil but a few steps
away.

"You contemptible rascal!" cried Dave, his eyes flashing.

"Why--I--er----" stammered the money-lender's son. He did not know what
to say.