“Well, don’t say a word of this to any one, and to-morrow night we may have some fun with Mr Murphy. Did you ever catch a rabbit in a snare, Patsy?”
Patsy grinned.
“Well, the idea has just come to me that we may be able to arrange something of that sort for Mr Murphy. I only want a pulley and some rope—stay, I have it: you know the flagstaff on the roof?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, there must be twenty yards or so of signal-halyard line on it. You know what I mean—the rope they pull the flag up on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, to-morrow you must get me that rope; it will do in the evening time after dinner. Is there anything I can fix a pulley to in the ceiling?”
“Sure, there’s a big oak beam that’d hould an iliphant,” said Patsy, whose rabbit-snaring instincts told him something of the plan which had occurred to Mr Fanshawe.
“That will do. Now cut off to bed, and mind you say nothing of this to any one. It isn’t every day one has the chance of trapping a burglar. The beagles meet to-morrow at ten, don’t they?”
“Yes, sir, at the park gates,” replied Patsy.