Part 35 (1/2)

I sneaked a look, and sure enough, the window he was talking about did have its blinds closed. That made it hard for anybody inside to see out, and impossible for anybody outside to see in, or to make any signals or anything.

”Fine chance,” says I, ”of getting at anybody up there. There ain't a ladder in town that'll reach him.”

”There's things b-besides ladders,” says Mark. ”Say, Binney, if you was s-shut in a room, and something came and rapped on your window like this, _rap-rap-rap_, then _rap-rap-rap_, what would you think?”

”I'd think somebody was doin' it to make me take notice,” says I.

”That's what this Pekoe would t-t-think,” says Mark.

”But,” says I, ”you can't reach him. If you tried it with a long pole Jethro'd catch you at it.”

”Yes,” says Plunk, ”and if you tried it by throwing stones, he'd catch you at that too.”

”Maybe,” says Mark. ”But I got a d-d-dodge that'll work, maybe, and Jethro won't see it, either. Let's all git into the arbor where we can't be seen.”

We went in and Mark asked if Plunk and I had our sling-shots. We had, because we always had them along. You can never tell when you may need a sling-shot in your business.

”Now,” says Mark, ”here's the notion. We shoot at Pekoe's window. I shoot, then Plunk, then Binney. One, two, three. L-l-like that. Then stop a m-minute, and do it right over-one, two, three. See? Jethro won't be able to _see that_,” says he.

”Go ahead,” says I, getting a good stone in the leather, and another in my hand to be ready for the second volley.

Mark shot, then Plunk, then me. _Pat-pat-pat_, the three stones sounded.

Then we did it again. _Pat-pat-pat_. After that we waited with our eyes glued to the window, and our ears, too. Pretty soon we heard a noise like gla.s.s breaking, and then Pekoe, if it _was_ Pekoe, began pus.h.i.+ng and banging at the blinds.

”Hope he don't make too m-m-much noise,” says Mark.

It seemed like he couldn't open the blinds, so they must have been nailed or fastened somehow, and they were strong, heavy blinds, but he could work the shutters up and down so as to get a better look outside, and we could see his fingers reaching through. We knew he must have his eyes right there, looking, so Mark went to the door of the arbor and stood there quiet. Pekoe couldn't miss seeing him any more than he could miss seeing the new post-office in town if he was standing right in front of it. That's one good thing about being fat-it's easy for folks to see you when you want them to. But, on the other hand, it's hard to hide from folks you want to keep away from.

Mark looked at the house careful, but Jethro wasn't in sight.

”Rock,” he says, ”you and Plunk go to the kitchen and yell to Jethro that you're hungry. If he comes, one of you back over to that kitchen window there and waggle your hand behind you.”

Off they went, and pretty soon Plunk showed up in front of the window and waggled his hand. So we knew Jethro was in there where he couldn't see. Then, quick as a wink, Mark looked up at the window and waggled _his_ hand. The man inside saw it, because he shoved as much of his hand through the shutters as he could, and wiggled it as hard as he could wiggle. Mark nodded his head.

Plunk was still standing in the kitchen window, so we knew Jethro was there yet. Mark gave a look, and then started making letters with his fingers. You know that sort of deaf and dumb alphabet that every boy in the United States can use if he wants to-mostly behind his geography in school. Well, that's what Mark was doing now. He was trying to talk to Pekoe.

”Is your name Pekoe?” he spelled out as slow as time. Then he spelled out, ”If you can read what I say wiggle one finger.”

Just one finger came through the blinds and wiggled.

”Are you a friend of Rock's? If you are show two fingers,” Mark signaled.

Two fingers came into sight.

”If you know who he is, and why he's kept here, show two fingers again.

If you don't know, show one finger.”

Just one finger came through.