(Charley Marden had hidden himself in a pile of gravel behind his father's house, and looked like a recently exhumed mummy.) There was not the least evidence against us; and, indeed, we were wholly innocent of the offence.

The trick, as was afterwards proved, had been played by a party of soldiers stationed at the fort in the harbor.

We were indebted for our arrest to Master Conway, who had slyly dropped a hint, within the hearing of Selectman Mudge, to the effect that "young Bailey and his five cronies could tell something about them signs." When he was called upon to make good his assertion, he was considerably more terrified than the Centipedes, though they were ready to sink into their shoes.
At our next meeting it was unanimously resolved that Conway's animosity should not be quietly submitted to.

He had sought to inform against us in the stagecoach business; he had volunteered to carry Pettingil's "little bill" for twenty-four icecreams to Charley Marden's father; and now he had caused us to be arraigned before justice Clapham on a charge equally groundless and painful.

After much noisy discussion, a plan of retaliation was agreed upon.
There was a certain slim, mild apothecary in the town, by the name of Meeks.