"Isn't she clever?" exclaimed Louise admiringly.
"We'll try it, it may work," said Carl, with masculine condescension.
"What in the world can those children be doing?" somebody wondered as she looked through the half-closed blinds of one of the Brown house windows a few minutes later.
Mounted on a chair near the Fords' front fence stood Bess holding aloft a clothes-prop, and looking like a small copy of "Liberty Enlightening the World." Through a groove in the top of the pole ran the line, one end of which was safely fastened in Ikey's window. Louise had the rest of it in charge and slowly dealt it out as she crossed the street in front of Carl, who by means of another pole kept it elevated beyond all harm. Once over the street it was easily attached to a cord hanging from the star chamber, then slowly and cautiously Ikey pulled it up. Several times it caught in the trees, but a careful jerk sent it free, and at last it was safe.
"Three cheers for Bess! It was her plan," called Ikey from above.
"It really worked very well," Carl acknowledged.
"I knew all the time it would," added Louise, as they went inside to finish their work.
The watcher in the Brown house window returned reluctantly to the book she had been reading, as though she found the bit of real life more entertaining.
When all was done it was pronounced a success. Even though you could not hear so very distinctly, at least the bells fastened at each end tinkled most realistically when the line was pulled.
As they came out of the side door at the Fords' after inspecting Ikey's end of the telephone, Louise catching sight of a ball which lay on the grass made a spring for it. The others rushed after her, there was a scramble that would have shocked Aunt Marcia beyond expression, and Carl getting possession tossed it with all his might—he did not stop to think where. Alas! it went over into the next yard and a crash of broken glass told the tale. They looked at each other in consternation, and Ikey ran and peeped through the fence.