After aunt Dorcas explained that it would be necessary to spade up the ground, Plums's enthusiasm for gardening diminished; but Joe begged for the privilege of showing what he could do, and the little woman supplied them with such tools as she thought necessary.
"If you want to know about anything, come right up to the house. It is baking-day with me, and I shall be busy in the kitchen until dinner-time."
Then she left them, and Plums seated himself within the shadow of the barn, explaining, as he did so, that perhaps it would be better if he "kinder got the hang of the thing by seein' Joe work."
Eager to repay aunt Dorcas for her kindness, Joe Potter laboured industriously, despite the blisters which soon appeared on his hands, for half an hour or more, and then the two boys were startled by a warning hiss, which apparently came from one end of the barn.
"There must be snakes 'round here!" and Plums sprang to his feet, in alarm. "Jim Flannigan says they always hiss like that before they bite."
"Take hold of this spade for a little while, an' they won't bite you. It seems to me I'm doin' all the work, an' I know you ate more'n your share of the supper an' breakfast."
The hissing noise was heard again, and, as the two gazed in the direction from which it came, the head of Dan, the detective, appeared from behind the barn.
"What are you doin' there, tryin' to frighten us?" Plums asked, indignantly. "Why didn't you come right up like a man? There's nobody 'round here but aunt Dorcas, an' she wouldn't hurt a fly."
The amateur detective rose slowly to his feet, looking displeased.
"You two are the most careless fellers I ever saw. Here's all the cops in New York City out on your trail, an' you hollerin' fit to scare a horse."