"Well, gates are good enough if you can't do any better," said Teddy, on the afternoon of a last day in October, "but I'm getting tired of them."
"What about signs, then?" asked Joe.
"Signs are all right—genuine signs up on buildings—not these pasteboard cards saying 'To Rent,' and sewing-machine boards nailed on fences, and such stuff."
"You don't think you could get a big store sign down, do you?" asked Fred.
"Yes, I do."
"Whose?"
"Oh, a lot of 'em. Mr. Parks's would be an easy one."
"But it's up over the door, and runs clear across the front of the building!" protested Joe. "And it's fastened up with irons!"
"Don't care if 'tis. We're good for it, if we only think so. I've been looking at it. The irons are loose, and there's room to stand on the ledge behind it. It would be just as easy as nothing to take it down."
"What would you do with it?" asked Joe.
"Well," answered Ted, slowly, "it says on it, 'M. Parks. Cheap Cash Grocery.' I think it would look sort of funny to take it up and put it on the school-house."
The other boys instantly fell in with this idea, though they still doubted their ability to get the sign down. Then Fred thought of the village's night watchman, who spent most of his time in the business part of town.
"But what about Billy Snyder?" he asked.
"Oh, my pa says Billy goes to sleep every night at nine o'clock," answered Teddy, confidently. "He says burglars might pull Billy's boots off and he'd never know it."
"Well, if he sleeps all night, he must walk in his sleep," said Joe, who lived farther down town than the others. "I've been awake 'way in the night sometimes, and heard him tramping round."
"But, don't you see, to-night he'll be up town looking out for fellows lugging off gates," returned Teddy, not to be convinced that there was any danger from the watchman. "Besides, Billy can't run for shucks."
It was accordingly arranged that the boys should meet that night across the street from Mr. Parks's store at half past ten; and promptly at that hour they were all on hand. It was a dark night, and the streets were deserted.
"It's—it's pretty dark, isn't it, Ted?" said Joe, in a loud whisper.
"Course," answered Teddy, contemptuously. "Want it dark, don't we?"
"Y—yes. Seen anything of Billy?"
"Oh, he's all right—way off somewhere. He won't be down here to-night."
They tiptoed cautiously across the street, and looked up at the sign.
"Has he been raising it?" said Joe, very earnestly.
"No, of course not," answered Teddy, impatiently.
"Well, it never looked so high to me before," insisted Joe.
"Oh, you're scared!" returned the brave Ted. "Better run home."
"I'm not scared. How are you going to get up?"
"Climb the eaves-spout on the corner. It's easy as nothing," and he started up.
He went up for five or six feet, but found it harder work than he expected. He stopped and rested a moment, then struggled on. This he did twice, feeling his hold weakening all the while. The last time he stopped he looked down. It seemed a long ways. His hold suddenly grew still weaker, and he slid back and rolled over on the ground.
"Are you hurt, Ted?" anxiously inquired the other boys.
"Of course not," answered Teddy, impatiently. "Came down to rest and put a little dust on my hands," and he went out into the street and spatted his palms on the ground.
[Pg 93]
"We ought to had Tom Ketcham along," said Joe, when Teddy came back. "He's a bully climber."
"Oh, pshaw!" said Ted. "If Tom Ketcham can climb any better'n I can I'd like to know it. Just watch me now;" and he started up again.
Thanks to the street dust or to a determination to show Joe that he was as good a climber as Tommy, he managed to get up this time and wriggle in on the cornice, which made a sort of ledge behind the sign. He loosened the iron on that end of the sign, and walked cautiously along, taking a piece of clothes-line out of his pocket, with which he intended to lower it. Just then footsteps were heard approaching.
"Billy's coming!" cried Fred, in a hoarse half-whisper, and he and Joe started down the street.
"Hold on there!" called Teddy to the younger boys, in a fierce tone. "Get in the doorway and keep still."
The others obeyed, and Ted himself lay down on the ledge behind the sign and flattened out as much as possible. It proved to be only a man on his way home, and he passed without seeing the boys.
Teddy's heart was thumping pretty hard as he thrust his chin over the edge of the sign and whispered, "You fellows down there?"
"Yes," answered the boys.
"Well, what you so scared at?" he asked, tauntingly, as a way of keeping up his own courage. "Look out, now, and I'll have this sign down there before you know it." He rose up and started to hurry along the cornice, but stumbled over something and went down with a great thump. Fortunately he fell on the ledge, and the sign kept him from rolling into the street.
"What's the matter, Ted?" asked the others, excitedly.
"Nothing. Don't know. Fell over something." He felt about in the darkness, and added: "Iron thing to put a big flag in. Forgot it was here."
He crawled on to the other end, and readily pulled up the other iron that held the sign in place. Then he crept back to the middle, looking out for the flag-staff bracket this time, and tied one end of his clothes-line around the sign. He took a half turn with the line around the flag-holder, which he stood astride, lifted up on the sign to release it from the supports on which it rested, and began to lower it slowly. "Get ready, there!" he whispered to the other boys. The sign was heavier than he had expected, and the rope hurt his hands. But he shut his teeth together and hung on, and slowly paid out the line. Just then there came the sound of a heavy step up the street. Teddy tried to let the rope go a little faster, but it suddenly shot through his hands. The sign struck the stone sidewalk broadside with a report like a gun, and the end of the rope, which was entangled with his feet, jerked him off the ledge, and he shot down after the sign. But the flag bracket which had tripped him up before saved him this time. Its upturned end caught under the back of his jacket, and stopped him with a jerk, his shoulder-blades against the front of the ledge, and his legs dangling in the air above the doorway. Between the crash of the falling sign and the heavy footsteps, which sounded precisely like the watchman's, the other boys had been too frightened to think, and had scampered down the street faster than they had ever run before.
Teddy's first thought was to call for help, but he was too frightened to call; and by the time he had found his voice he had concluded that it would be best to wait a few minutes, since he was not particularly uncomfortable, and see if he could not get himself out of the fix he was in without being caught. The approaching footsteps had ceased, and there was not a sound to be heard. "Billy has stopped and is trying to make out what all the racket is about," Teddy thought to himself. "If I keep still he may not see me in the dark, after all." His jacket was drawn pretty tightly across his chest, and there was a good deal of strain on the buttons, but he knew his mother had sewed them on and that there was not much danger of their giving way. But it was rather hard to breathe. He wriggled about a little, and tried to get his elbows up on the cornice in the hope of raising himself, but he couldn't do it. Nothing more was heard of Billy, and the earth seemed to have swallowed up Joe and Fred. It seemed to Teddy that he had hung there half an hour, though it probably wasn't more than three or four minutes, when he ventured to call, in a subdued voice, "Joe!"
"Is that you, Ted?" came from directly beneath him in Tom Ketcham's voice.
"Yes, Tom. I'm caught. Help me down, somehow."
"Is that you hanging up there?"
"Yes. I'm caught on the flag-holder."
"Yes; we heard it fall. Phil's with me."
[Pg 94]
"Was that you I heard coming? Thought the walk sounded like Billy."
"We—we had a gate, and I guess that made us walk pretty heavy."
Just then Joe and Fred crept back, emboldened by the sound of the voices. The four boys on the sidewalk now held a whispered consultation as to the best way of getting Teddy down, but they reached no decision. Tom thought Ted ought to take his knife, cut off his buttons, and drop out of his jacket, but Teddy objected to this. Joe thought a ladder was the only hope, but Fred was of the opinion that if they had a long pole he could be got down with that; but no one knew where either a pole or ladder could be found. Teddy himself thought that if two of the boys should climb up on the ledge that they could pull him up, and as Phil shared this view it was decided to try it.
"And hurry up," pleaded poor Ted, "'cause I'm getting pretty tired of this, and can't hardly breathe."
Tom and Phil accordingly started up the leader, and soon wriggled on to the ledge as Teddy had done. The sign being gone, there was great danger of their slipping off into the street, and they crept along very cautiously. When they found themselves over the suspended Ted, they rose up on their feet, stooped over, and each got a good hold on his collar with one hand. Then they lifted together with all their strength, but they might as well have lifted on a thrifty oak-tree for all they accomplished. Ted had settled down so far that his shoulders were half drawn under the cornice, and though he tried to wriggle about and help them as they lifted, his wriggling really consisted of nothing but thrashing his legs about in the air.
"We can't do it, Tom," said Phil.
Tom felt around on the front of the building, and replied:
"'Fraid we can't. If there was only something for us to hold on to we could lift a good deal more; but there isn't."
"Not a thing. And if we lift another pound we'll pull ourselves into the street and break our necks. What shall we do?"
"Don—don't leave me," implored Teddy, with just a suspicion of a whimper in his voice. "Wish I'd never heard of the sign. It's my last sign if I ever get down."
"We'll get you down some way, Ted," answered Tom. "Just you keep a stiff upper lip."
"I—I am," returned Teddy. "But I can't hang much longer. Feel like I was going to die, or something."
Just then distant footsteps were heard on the sidewalk.
"Ssh!" said Phil. "Somebody's coming. Get in the doorway, you fellows down there."
Joe and Fred obeyed, and the footsteps came nearer.
"That's Billy's walk, for sure," whispered Tom. "Can't fool me on that. Lie down, Phil," and the two boys flattened out on the ledge.
Poor Teddy could do nothing but hang, as if he were a sign put out in front of a store where small boys were kept for sale. Nearer and nearer came the footsteps, till they were almost in front of the building. Then there was a sudden stumble, a smothered ejaculation, and a man fell full length on the walk, while something which showed a little point of light went rolling along the walk. It was Billy, and he had fallen over the sign, and his dark-lantern had rolled away. The boys all had hard work to keep from laughing, except Teddy.
"Geewhillikans!" howled Billy, as he scrambled to his feet and made a dive for his lantern. "What's all this?"
The next second he flashed his bull's-eye on the walk, and began an investigation.
"WELL, WELL! IF THERE AIN'T A BOY, THEN I'M A GOAT!"
"You may shoot me if it ain't old Parks's sign!" he went on, throwing the stream of light along the board. "More Halloween monkey business, I s'pose. I'd like to catch the scalawags! Wonder how they got it down?" He stepped back to the edge of the walk and turned the light upward.
"Well, well! If there ain't a boy, then I'm a goat! Come down here, you young imp!"
Teddy only swung his legs.
"Come down, I say, or I'll—I'll—I'll—" and Billy paused, unable to think of anything terrible enough.
"I—I can't, Billy," Teddy managed to get out.
"Hung up, hey? Good enough for you. You ought to be hung up by the heels a week! I'll get you down, young man. Just you be calm till I fetch Whitney's ladder," and Billy started up the street on a trot, muttering to himself.
The new danger sharpened Master Teddy's wits, and made him think faster than he had ever done before.
"You fellows get down quick as you can," he cried to Tom and Phil. "Hurry!" The boys scrambled along the ledge and slid down the leader. "Get hold of that sign, the whole four of you, and stick one end of it up here like a ladder," went on Teddy, his voice all in a tremble, but the words coming with a rush. Up came the sign beside him. He got his legs over and around it, half wriggled his back onto it, reached his arms over his head, and by exerting every muscle in his body to the utmost, managed to pull and kick himself up enough to release his coat. Then he shot down the steep sign like a toboggan, and struck the ground all in a heap. Billy was coming down the street with his ladder and lantern. "Down with it!" said Tom, and he put his shoulder against the sign.
"No you don't," cried Teddy; "I've had enough of signs and Halloweens. Let's git;" and he did with all his might, a sadder but a wiser boy.
There has not been a case of sign lost on Halloween or any other day or night since in Scottsville.