I'm fairly quivering with suspense, because I somehow feel that we're on the verge of making a big discovery." "Perhaps we are," his chum told him, without any show of elation, "but if it convicts Owen Dugdale of this thing, I'll be mighty sorry." He led the way downstairs, and secured his cap from the rack.

Then the two lads hurried out of the front door, heading in the direction of the big house where the old French lady lived, and which had lately been turned into a sort of general headquarters for the Red Cross workers.
There some of the ladies of Scranton could be found day after day, sewing and packing such garments as had been brought in, so that they might be sent across the sea to the country where the brave poilus were in the trenches defending their native land against the aggressor, and slowly but surely pressing the Teutonic hosts back toward the border.
"I'm going to ask you a favor, Hugh," remarked Thad, presently, as they drew near their intended destination.
"Go ahead and ask it, then," he was told.
"Let me run this little game, won't you, please--that is, I mean, allow me to introduce the subject of souvenir spoons, and then show the old lady the one I've got in my pocket right now ?" "That seems only fair," Hugh assured him.

"Since you've taken it on yourself to crib that spoon from Owen's den, it's up to you to do the honors.

I'll only be too glad to have you do most of the talking.
Yes, and about the time you flash that thing in front of her eyes I'll be shivering for fear we learn the worst." "Nothing like heroic treatment when you've got a cancer gnawing at your vitals, as surgeons all say," remarked Thad, rather pompously.

"I'm aiming at the bull's-eye now, you understand.