"Sure I will. To begin with, Jack, you stay to see about closing up shop. Bobolink, you and Bluff come with us; yes, and Nuthin can trot along, too. That ought to be enough, with Peter here to help."
The German sexton was not so very dull of comprehension after all. And besides, he believed in Paul Morrison. He agreed to accompany the group of scouts on their strange errand, since Jack promised to close all the windows, and remain in the basement until his return.
Accordingly the five walked away, vanishing in the darkness. Paul suspected that one or more of the enemy might be concealed close by, hoping to learn what they meant to do; and so he had lowered his voice when speaking.
He led the way, passing through several side streets until finally they found themselves close to the fine residence of Mr. Kenwood, the banker.
"Say, I happen to know that Ward always uses
the back gate when he goes out nights," ventured Nuthin, in a whisper, close to Paul's ear.
This was important news, and the scout leader was not slow to take advantage of it. So they found a place close to the rear gate, and crouched low, waiting. Slowly the minutes passed. The town clock struck the half hour, though it seemed to some of the watchers that they must have been on duty for ages.
"That's him coming," said Nuthin at length, in the lowest of voices; "I know his whistle all right. He's feelin' right merry over givin' us the ha! ha!"
"'Sh!" warned Paul, just then; and as the whistler drew rapidly closer the five crouching figures prepared to spring out upon him.