"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.
Then, as Reade darted from the store, Mrs.Prescott added, to her husband: "I think the back of Tom Reade's head contains more pranks than that of any other boy I ever knew." "I don't imagine our own son is any too far behind him," replied Mr.Prescott dryly.
A minute or two passed.

Then there sounded under one of the store's rear windows a most realistic crash of glass.

With it mingled another sound, not so easy to determine, followed by a loud yell and the noise of running feet.