"Who's that?" murmured Dick to himself. "What's up?"
Whoever the prowler was, he was flitting over to the ash cans set out by a neighbor. One can contained ashes only, the other contained various kinds of rubbish. It took the prowler but a moment to find an empty bottle in the second can. Then he came straight over toward the rear window of the store, which was situated directly under Dick's own window.
"There's some mischief afloat," murmured Dick, unable to recognize his chum in the darkness. "I can't get down in time to catch him, but I'll mark him so that I'll know him when I overtake him."
Tip-toeing over to his washstand, Dick quickly picked up the water pitcher. He returned to his window just as Tom crouched under the store window with a bottle in his left hand and his felt hat in his right.
Then Tom struck the harmless blow against the window, at the same time breaking the bottle.
Smash!
Splash!
"Gracious!" gasped Dick, believing that the store window had been broken.
A yell from Tom arose as the contents of the pitcher deluged him.
Reade was up and away like a shot, reaching the street only to cause a hue and cry to be started after him as he ran.