ought to be done; but he was not entirely satisfied with the details of his project. He was glad of this opportunity to foment a conspiracy, and promptly took advantage of it.
"It's no fun having you rolled around in the mud, Tom," he answered, smiling; "and, as you say, it's precious little use. But I 've got a notion—" Here the boys all chuckled, for Plunkett's "notions" were a staple joke among them. But he merely paused long enough for the laughter to ebb away, and then continued undisturbed: "I 've a notion how we can fix this up all straight." They were just then passing the school-house yard, so he said: "Come in here and sit down for a while, and I 'll explain it to you."
The old gate swung open, the boys filed in, it slammed together again; and for an hour or so a group of gleeful conspirators concentered around the intellect of Plunkett, the boy with "a notion how to fix it."
They parted at dusk in the best of humor, each distributing giggles along his homeward path.
During the next week, only a very keen observer would have remarked the fact that the thoughtful brow of Ethan Plunkett was upon two special afternoons missed from its accustomed place in the school-room. The schoolmaster noted the circumstance in his little book, but attached no importance to the absences beyond a mental recognition of the warm interest some of the other scholars seemed to take in this lad, who was one of the younger boys. Indeed, the master thought he observed that looks of inquiry were directed toward the youngster upon his second return to the school, and even that the boy nodded an assent to the questions thus mutely expressed. Still, as a small boy was at that moment endeavoring to convince the teacher, by a positive manner and reiterated assertions, that Kamtchatka was an empire in South America, the master's mind was diverted, and never recurred to the subject.
