Jimmy was about to climb the upright shaft when Stella stopped him.
"Wait," she said. "Let's not give Mr. Maudsley the knife."
"Why not? It's his."
"Let's give it to Mr. Trask."
The boy's jaw dropped as the enormity of the idea grew upon him. Then he uttered a squeal of delight.
Laughing and giggling, the two children turned and ran down and vaulted the fence that enclosed the aisle of shocks to the road and adjacent field.
Five minutes later the second scarecrow brandished a knife at the end of one of its handless sleeves.
But as Jimmy came out on the road again, he looked across at Mr. Maudsley. In full view in the sunlight, it wasn't a cardboard face now; it was a round full face, with great folds of fat, and it was twisted in an expression of stark fear.
For three nights the skies over the Tapping farm were black, and a cold wind huffing down from the north kept the children indoors where they played endless games of parchesi. On the fourth night the moon broke through the clouds.