“Well, you see if I don’t tell,” said Philip. “I know old Sam has hidden them because we walked all down the gravel-walk last month, before Fred came; and don’t you remember it was wet, and we pretended that it was a flood, and that we were obliged to use the stilts to keep out of the water; and then Sam went and told Papa that we had made the path all full of holes with the stilts?”
“Oh! ah! I recollect,” said Harry; “and I remember your going down in the puddle. But do you think Sam took them?”
“I feel sure he did,” said Philip.
“Won’t we serve him out then,” said Harry. “Come on. Let’s pretend that we know he’s got them, and ask for them at once.”
Now, old Sam had been all this time very methodically shaving away at his grass, and congratulating himself upon the boys keeping out of the garden; but, to his horror and disgust, he at length saw them all come bearing down upon him full rush, evidently bent upon some errand that he would consider unpleasant.
“Ha!” said Sam, stopping to wipe his scythe, and drawing his rubber out of the sheath on his back. “Ha! I know what you all wants. You wants to know how the wopses’ nest is a gettin’ on.”
“No, we don’t,” said chief spokesman Harry; “but we’ll go presently and see, though. We want our stilts, that you’ve got somewhere.”
“Laws, Master Henry,” said the old man, pretending to be innocent, “whatever made you think of that?”
“Come now,” said Harry, “give ’em up directly, or we’ll run away with your tools. Give us the stilts.”
“I ain’t got ’em,” said the old man.