“Dick Bumstead!” he exclaimed, as soon as he recognized the intruder. “What brings you here at this time of night?”
“A mean errand, Frank,” returned Dick, with a wholesome feeling of shame. He had made up his mind to a confession.
“You didn't come here to—to——” Here Frank stopped short.
“No, not to steal. I ain't quite so mean as that comes to. I come to let out your pigs, so that in the morning you would have a long chase after them.”
“But what could put such a thing into your head, Dick?” asked Frank, in great surprise.
“I thought it would be a good joke.”
“It wouldn't have been much of a joke to me,” said Frank.
“No; and to tell the truth it wouldn't have been to me. The fact is, and I don't mind telling it, that I should never have thought of such a thing if somebody else hadn't put it into my head.”
“Somebody else?”
“Yes; I'd a little rather not tell who that somebody is, for I don't believe he would like to have you know.”