"I can't，"replied McNutt，frankly；"I'm in it myself，an'we'll jest find out what his blame—twisted ol'fifteen—cent mellings is like."Patsy was overjoyed at the success of her plot，which shehad conceived on the spur of the moment，as most clever plots are conceived.On the way home she con？ded to her cousins a method of securing revenge upon the agent for selling them the three copies of the "Lives of the Saints.""McNutt wants to get even with Brayley，he says，and we want to get even with McNutt.I think our chances are best，don't you？"she asked.
And they decided to join the conspiracya.
There was some dif？culty escaping from Uncle John and the Major that night，but Patsy got them interested in a game of chess that was likely to last some hours，while Beth stole to the barn and harnessed Joe to the surrey.Soon the others slipped out and joined her，and with Patsy and Beth on the front seat and Louise inside the canopy they drove slowly away until the sound of the horse's feet on the stones was no longer likely to betray them.
McNutt was waiting for them when they quietly drew up before his house.The village was dark and silent，for its inhabitants retired early to bed.By good fortune the sky was overcastb with heavy clouds and not even the glimmer of a star relieved the gloom.
They put McNutt on the back seat with Louise，cautionedhim to be quiet，and then drove away.Dan Brayley's place was two miles distant，but in answer to Peggy's earnest inquiry if she knew the way Beth declared she could find it blind—folded.In a few moments Louise had engaged the agent in a spirited discussion of the absorbing "mystery"and so occupied his attention that he paid no heed to the direction they had taken.The back seat was hemmed in by side curtains and the canopy，so it would be no wonder if he lost all senseof direction，even had not the remarks of the girl at his side completely absorbed him.
Beth drove slowly down the main street，up a lane，back by the lake road and along the street again；and this programme was repeated several times，until she thought a suf？cient distance had been covered to convince the agent they had arrived at Brayley's.They way was pitch darka，but the horse was sensible enough to keep in the middle of the road，so they met with no accident more than to jolt over a stone now and then.
But now the most dif？cult part of the enterprise lay before them.The girls turned down the lane back of the main street and bumped over the ruts until they thought they had arrived at a spot opposite McNutt's own melon patch.
"What's wrong？"asked the agent，as they suddenlystopped with a jerk.
"This ought to be Brayley's，"said Beth；"but it's so dark I'm not certain just where we are."McNutt thrust his head out and peered into the blackness."Drive along a little，"he whispered.
The girl obeyed.
"Stop—stop！"said he，a moment later."I think that's them contwisted ？fteen—cent mellings—over there！"They all got out and Beth tied the horse to the fence.Peggy climbed over and at once whispered：
"Come on！It's them，all right."
Through the drifting clouds there was just enough light to enable them to perceive the dark forms of the melons lying side by side upon their vines.The agent took out his big clasp knife and recklessly slashed one of them open.
"Green's grass！"he grumbled，and slashed another.
Patsy giggled，and the others felt a sudden irresistible impulse to join her.
"Keep still！"cautioned McNutt."Wouldn't ol'Dan be jestravin'ef he knew this？Say—here's a ripe one.Hev a slice."They all felt for the slices he offered and ate the fruit without being able to see it.But it really tasted delicious.
