Then they were at a loss to know what to talk about. But finally Will hit upon the topic of mowing-machines, and then each one was called upon to give his views. Then the conversation flagged, and for full five minutes there was silence, during which Marmaduke tranquilly pared his nails, while the plotters looked at each other in growing uneasiness. Where could Charley be? Why didn’t he fling the bottled letter into the river?
“Boys, what are your plans for the holidays?” Marmaduke suddenly inquired.
At that instant a faint splash, the bottle striking the water, was heard by Jim.
“There it is!” he blurted out.
The plotters knew what he meant, though the dupe certainly did not. Nevertheless, it seemed to them that such blunders must be put down; and accordingly they bent their brows, and cast such annihilating glances at the offender that he quailed, and felt decidedly “chilly.”
Will arose and said, “Let us stroll up a little way.”
All cheerfully agreed to this proposal, though Marmaduke probably thought that by “stroll” Will meant a tramp of perhaps three or four miles. They had taken only a few steps when all except Marmaduke saw the bottle floating lazily along. The question was, how should they draw his attention to it without arousing suspicion?
Stephen was equal to the emergency. Stooping, he picked up a smooth stone, gave it a legerdemain fling, and it shot forward, performing all sorts of whimsical gyrations. As Stephen had foreseen, all the boys, Marmaduke included, observed every movement of the stone from the instant it left his hand. Then he repeated his trick with a second stone, and lo! the second stone fetched up very close to the bottle! In order to keep up appearances and carry out the deceit, he was about to cut a geometrical curve with still another stone, when Marmaduke exclaimed, “Boys, what is that floating down stream! It looks like a bottle.”
Crafty Stephen! His ruse was entirely successful.