n he gets home."

There was that final note of exhausted patience in Mrs. Silvey's voice
which commanded instant obedience. He rose with alacrity. As he mounted
the steps, the boys still at liberty scampered away in the fast
gathering dusk for a game of "Run, sheep, run," down the tracks and over
the grass plots and back yards on the street.

It was nearly six when John came panting into the kitchen.

"What have you been doing, son?" asked his mother as she half turned
from the gas stove to smile down at him.

"Oh, talking about Halloween, and what we're going to do, and lots of
things. It's going to be peachy."

"Mind, you're not to destroy property or anything like that. Otherwise,
you'll have to stay in the house Saturday night."

He yawned with elaborate carelessness. "Just going to blow beans and
ring doorbells, same as we did last year. Isn't it supper time? I'm
hungry."

"We'll eat as soon as your father gets home, son." She turned to give
the creamed potatoes a stir lest they stick to the pan. "Oh, I nearly
forgot! There's a letter at your place on the dining-room table. It came
in the afternoon mail."

"For me?" Surprise made his voice rise to a funny squeak. "Who from?"

"A young lady, I think."

He dashed into the dining-room and opened the envelope with clumsy
fingers. On a diminutive sheet of note paper, decorated at the top with
two laughing gnomes, ran an invitation copied from some older person's
formula:

"Miss Louise Martin requests the pleasure of Mr. John Fletcher's company
at a Halloween party to be given at her home on Saturday, October 31st,
from eight to ten o'clock."

CHAPTER VII

HE GOES TO A HALLOWEEN PARTY

Of course, he accepted. The temptation of a whole evening in the lady's
company was too great. But no sooner had he dropped his reply in the
corner mail box than he began to consider the cost.

The doormats and porch furniture of the neighborhood would go unharmed
for aught that he might do. No raids on the flats' garbage cans, no
ringing of doorbells, or raining peas through open windows. And only
through the vainglorious boasting of the gang on Sunday morning would he
know of the success of his string-and-can trick. Shucks! He was out of
it all.

After breakfast, Mrs. Fletcher glanced at the clear sunlight on the
house across the road and announced that John's Saturday tasks would be
suspended in honor of the day. He raced up to the Silveys, and found the
ex