Get on your mark and look out for your own best interests!" Rejoicing in the possession of such a valuable ally as Tom Reade, Timmy vanished in the darkness.

Tom Reade waited until he judged that the youngster must be in position near the back door.

Now Tom gripped the bottle in his left hand, crouching over the brick.
With his felt hat in his right hand, Tom reached up, hitting a window pane smartly with the hat.

At the same instant he brought the bottle crashing down over the brick.
As the bottle smashed against the brick Mr.Finbrink, in the dining room of the house, jumped up so quickly that he dropped his pipe.
"Some young rascal has smashed a front window!" he gasped, as he bolted into the parlor.
That was just what the noise had sounded like, and Tom Reade had intended that it should do so.
"I'll catch the young scamp!" gasped Mr.

Finbrink, making a rush for the front door, which he pulled open.
Pausing an instant, he heard the sound of running feet in the distance.
"The young scoundrel went west, and he has a good start," grunted Mr.Finbrink, as he gave chase in that direction.