replaced the frown of righteous anger on his face.

"I have a better way," he said.

"What is it?"

"See that pile of dirt?" and he pointed to some refuse that had been
swept up from the floor of the loft. Ned nodded. "It consists of a lot
of shavings, sawdust and, what's more, a lot of soot and lampblack
that we used in mixing some paint. We'll sweep the whole pile down on
their heads, and make them wish they'd stayed away from this place."

"Good!" exclaimed Ned, chuckling. "Give me a broom. There's another
one for you."

The two lads in the loft peered down. The red-headed, squint-eyed
bully and his chums had their knives out, and were about to cut some
of the important guy wires, when, at a signal from Tom, Ned, with a
sweep of his broom, sent a big pile of the dirt, sawdust and lampblack
down upon the heads of the conspirators. The young inventor did the
same thing, and for an instant the lower part of the shed looked as if
a dirtstorm had taken place there. The pile of refuse went straight
down on the heads of the trio, and, as they were looking up, in order
to see to cut the wires, they received considerable of it in their
faces.

In an instant the white countenances of the lads were changed to
black-as black as the burnt-cork performers in a minstrel show. Then
came a series of howls.