“Yes,” said Uncle Richard, looking very stern as he took them back and threw them into the receptacle, which he then locked up, and pocketed his keys. “Which is it, Tom—repentance, or because they are of no use to the thief?”
“Let’s hope it is the first, uncle,” replied Tom gravely, and his uncle uttered a long, deep-toned—
“Hah!” Then, “Come along, and let’s think of something pleasanter, my boy.”
They went up into the observatory, where the new diagonal mirror Tom had ground and silvered was fitted into the telescope; and that night being gloriously clear, the new addition was tested, and proved to be almost perfect.
“As nearly perfect as we shall get it, Tom,” said Uncle Richard; and then till quite late a glorious evening was spent, searching the dark depths of space for twin stars, Tom having a goodly share of the observations; and when he was not using the glass making shift with the star-finder, and listening the while to his uncle’s comments upon that which he saw.
The telescope was directed at the double star Castor; which, with Pollux, was glittering brightly in the black-looking sky, when Uncle Richard made way for the boy to take his place.
“Wonderfully clear, uncle.”
“But do you notice anything particular?”
“Yes; I was going to say, it’s like it is sometimes when the moon is low-down; the air seems to be all in a quiver.”
“That is so, Tom. People don’t, as a rule, think that they can see the atmosphere, but you can see it to-night all in motion. I think it means wind.”