They'll think they've run up against a threshing machine, all right, when Hugh and myself start in to maul them." "Suppose you come over later in the afternoon, Thad," suggested Hugh, as they arrived at their customary parting spot.

"Meanwhile, I'll take a look at my rabbit hutch, and try to figure just how we can turn the tables on Nick and Leon, if they should pay me a visit tonight." "Make it as severe as you can, Hugh," begged Thad; "nothing could be too hard for a pair of miserable schemers who, to get even with a fellow they dare not face openly any longer, would creep into his rabbit house like thieves in the night, and either steal his property, or injure it so that there'd be no chance to exhibit the hares in a show." "See you later on, and we can tell better then," was all Hugh said, for if he had any idea simmering in his brain just then, he did not care to mention it until he had found a chance to "look around," as he termed it.
"I'll be across inside of half an hour, you can bet on that!" called out Thad, as he hurried away.
He was as good as his word.

Indeed, Hugh had hardly started to make his investigation of the premises before he heard his chum come through the gate, slamming it after him.
There was an outbuilding back of the barn, which had been intended for a storage house of some sort, but not used by the present occupants of the premises.

This Hugh had commandeered, and fitted to his purpose.
The upper part he had made into a pretty fine loft for his fancy homing pigeons.

When the first of his pedigreed youngsters arrived at the flying stage, he meant to have considerable fun taking them ten or twenty miles away, and then letting them loose, in the expectation of finding them at home when he got back.