"But we had no Tom Reade in our crowd in those good old days," he repeated to himself several times. "If we had had a Tom Reade among us, I think we would have beaten any crowd of boys of to-day!"
Meanwhile Tom's love of mischief was speeding him into other experiences ere he reached his bed that night. Some of the consequences of his mischievous prank were to be immediate, others more remote.
"Humph! But that did sound just like a window breaking," Tom chuckled as he slowed down to a walk. "Whee! I'd like to show that one to Dick Prescott. I wonder if he is up yet?"
Whereupon Tom walked briskly over to the side street, just off Main Street, whereon stood the book store of Prescott, Senior, with the Prescotts' living rooms overhead.
"Good evening, Mr. Prescott. Good evening, Mrs. Prescott," was
Tom's greeting as he walked into the store. "Is Dick up yet?"
"He went upstairs not more than two minutes ago," Mrs. Prescott replied. "He can't be asleep yet. Shall I call upstairs to see?"
"On second thought, perhaps not," Tom replied. "Thank you, just as much. But I've something new that I'd like to show Dick. Do you mind if I slip out around the back of the store and try a new trick on him? It won't hurt anyone; there'll be a crash of glass, but it won't break any good glass—-merely a bottle."
"I think that perhaps our son needs a little enlivening," smiled
Mr. Prescott.
"Thank you," answered Tom. "You won't be startled, will you,
Mrs. Prescott?"
"I don't see how I can possibly be startled, when I've been so kindly warned," laughed Mrs. Prescott.