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Daddles. "Wet," said Ed Mason. "Hungry," I added. "Tired," said Jimmy. "With no money," remarked Mr. Daddles. "And nothing that we could do with it, if we had it," Jimmy Toppan gloomily reflected, shoving his hands deep into his trousers pockets. "And it's ten o'clock," I suggested. "Eleven," said Jimmy. "Twelve," thought Ed Mason. "Our case is desperate," said Mr.
We pulled up every blade of grass, felt in all the crevices of the rocks, and dug a toad out of his hole. He looked highly surprised and indignant, but he gave us no help about the money. "Well, I'm sorry, sorry to get you into all this mess," said Mr. Daddles. "We'd better leave it, I suppose, and go back to Squid Cove. We can walk and if that really is fog " "It's fog, all right," said Jimmy.
The road we had just left wound on, down the hill again, and toward what might have been a dark clump of trees. The grass in the field was short and scrubby, and worn quite bare in places. There was a path which Mr. Daddles knew, and this we followed in single file. All of a sudden we heard a strange, thumping sound, right in front of us. We stopped short.
Apply to the owner at the Eagle House!" "Did you ever hear the like of that?" said Mr. Daddles, in a kind of awed whisper; "don't move, he's going to do it again!" But Ed Mason, Jimmy Toppan, and I were not be to restrained. "That's the 'Hoppergrass'!" we all burst out, at the same instant. "What's the 'Hopper' ?" began Mr. Daddles, but his voice was drowned out by the crier.
The constable was now in a fury. "If he locks up a man for banjo-playing " murmured Mr. Daddles, "He'll have us burned at the stake," suggested Jimmy Toppan. I had been feeling very unhappy ever since we arrived in the police-station. It looked to me as if we were in a pretty bad fix.
But Foxy-woxy said to Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey- lurkey: "This is the short way to the king's palace you'll soon get there if you follow me. I will go first and you come after, Henny- penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey."
High overhead the sky must have been cloudless, for we could see the moon, now and then, like a dim dinner-plate, when there was a moment's rift in the fog. "Just the night for a deed like this," said Mr. Daddles; "come on! But wait a minute there's no sense in being burglars way off at this distance, we'll be, let's see, we'll be smugglers, first, a gang of smugglers."
Ed Mason voted for a horse, and I for a bicycle. "I don't see how we can dig up much treasure, anyway," was Ed Mason's comment, "not even if we find where it's buried." "Why not?" "What have we got to dig with?" That was true, we had forgotten to bring shovels. "Never mind, this is only prospecting," Mr. Daddles reminded us.
I wanted to run, but I was ashamed to do so for fear of what the others would think. Moreover, although I was afraid to stay there, I was also afraid to run, for I didn't like the idea of that thing chasing me through the fog. So we all stood there in a group. At last Mr. Daddles stepped toward the thing. "What do you want?" he said, in a low tone. There was no answer.
Now and then he would halt, and shout something at the top of his voice. "What's the matter?" Sprague asked a man, who stood in the door of a cigar-shop, "is there a fire?" The man grinned. "That's the town-crier," said he. "Town-crier!" exclaimed Mr. Daddles, "I didn't know there were any of 'em left." "There aint," said the man, "except this one. He's the last one of 'em."
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