member of the family who had a
natural aptitude for mechanism; the one who mended toys, and on occasion
was even consulted about mother's sewing-machine and escapes of gas,
therefore he filled the place of engineer-royal and was expected to take
all structural difficulties upon his own shoulders. He pondered,
blinking his pale blue eyes.

"Can't send messages in the usual way--too difficult. If the cord were
double, we might have a bag and switch it across."

Ha! the audience pricked its ears and sat alert, seeing in imagination
the tiny cord swung high in space above the dividing ground, stretching
from window to window, fastened securely on the sills, "somehow,"
according to the girls, the boys critically debating the question of
ways and means, strong iron hoops, for choice, clamped into the
framework of the windows.

"How would the messages be sent?"

"In a bag, of course. Put the letter in the bag; then we'd pull and
pull, and it would work round and round, till it arrived at the opposite
end."

A stealthy exchange of glances testified to the general realisation of
the fact that it would take a _long_ time to pull, a much longer time,
for instance, than to run round by the road, and deposit the missive in
the letter-box, a still unforbidden means of communication. Every one
realised the fact, but every one scorned to put it into words. What was
a mere matter of time, compared with the glory and _eclat_ of owning a
real live telegraph of one's own?

The first stage of the proceedings was to obtain the parental consent,
and this was secured with an ease and celerity which was positively
disconcerting. When mothers said, "Oh, yes, dears, certainly--certainly
you may try!" with a smile in their eyes, a twist on their lips, and a
barely concealed incredulity oozing out of every pore, it put the
youngsters on their mettle to succeed, or perish in the attempt. The
mothers obviously congratulated themselves on a project which would
provide innocent amusement for holiday afternoons, while they inwardly
derided the idea of permanent success.

"We'll show 'em!" cried Harry darkly. "We'll let 'em see!"

The next point was to decide on the window in each house which should
act as telegraph station. In the case of the Vernons there was
obviously no alternative, for the third-floor landing window possessed
qualifications far in excess of any other, but with the Garnetts two
rival factions fought a wordy combat